Manhattan?"
"Uh-uh. I'm going to surprise you."
Twelve
When Kwan pulled the car up in front of the Dakota, I nearly fainted. Home to celebrities and the mega wealthy, the historic old building was notoriously hard to get into. The rejected prospective tenant list reads like a Hollywood red carpet roll call.
The Dakota is a beautiful building. A lot of people say it looks creepy or haunted, but I disagree. I was trying hard not to appear awestruck when we crossed the lobby. The chandeliers, the dark wood, the rich carpets and wingback chairs all screamed old money and class.
When the elevator doors shut, Tristan wrapped his arms around me and claimed my mouth with a savage kiss. "I will make this right for us, Raina. I promise you." The old elegant elevator lumbered slowly to his floor. I wasn't in a hurry. His mouth and mine passed the time well enough.
The doors slid open and we crossed into his apartment. In spite of the fact that I was utterly ready for whatever he had in store for me, I had to gasp at the beautiful interior. It was blended elegance with a vengeance. The inlaid wood floors were strewn with oriental rugs and everything was done in rich shades of burgundy, blue and gold. Antiques, Chinese vases, crystal lamps, modern overstuffed couches and striking Impressionistic paintings all melded together into a harmonious and surprisingly comfortable looking whole.
"This is a beautiful apartment. Did you do this yourself?"
"Yes, I did. It's my refuge." He put his hand against a particularly delicate blue and white vase on the hall table. "Some of these things are from our old house."
I knew now, more than ever, why Tristan felt he needed a refuge. After living through the last few days I felt like I needed one, too. Once again I felt a chill shudder cross my shoulders when I considered the vigilance required in his lifestyle. He saw my body language, but mistook the source. His strong arms gathered me close to him.
"Make love with me. Find your way so close to me that everything disappears but you and I for as long as we can make it last."
I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew I should be drawing back, not growing closer. But he had said 'make love'. The word had been spoken. Out loud.
He didn't give me any time for an internal argument. Gathering me in his arms, he kissed me with a compelling, passionate kiss that possessed me completely. His tongue found mine and played against it. He ran the tip up under my lips and bit softly on my lower one.
I laced my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in the waves that spilled over his collar. He bent and put one strong arm under my knees and another one at my back and pulled me off my feet. As he carried me through the living room and into the opulent bedroom, I couldn't help but think that someday I'd love to be carried this way as his bride. I filed that thought in the "don't go there" file , determined to enjoy the here and now knowing this could well be the last time.
My dress had ridden up to just under my hip bones and he could see the tiny string bikini covering my sex. He leaned down and blew through the fabric. The warm moist heat of his breath stirred my clit to attention. My body had learned well how to react to him and appreciate his every move.
"Take off your dress, Raina." It wasn't a request.
I loved the control in his voice. He wasn't asking for anything, he was demanding it. For some odd reason it made perfect sense, in this context with this man. I knew what to do with myself, with a man, in the bedroom, but with him there was an element of something I had never experienced before. I wanted him to tell me what to do. My life felt so out of control. I needed him to command me. I craved the strength in him.
"Lay back against the pillows."
I did as I was told. He removed my shoes and placed my feet far apart on the bed, splaying my legs open. "Beautiful Raina." He stepped over to the side of the bed toward my head and pressed my
"Uh-uh. I'm going to surprise you."
Twelve
When Kwan pulled the car up in front of the Dakota, I nearly fainted. Home to celebrities and the mega wealthy, the historic old building was notoriously hard to get into. The rejected prospective tenant list reads like a Hollywood red carpet roll call.
The Dakota is a beautiful building. A lot of people say it looks creepy or haunted, but I disagree. I was trying hard not to appear awestruck when we crossed the lobby. The chandeliers, the dark wood, the rich carpets and wingback chairs all screamed old money and class.
When the elevator doors shut, Tristan wrapped his arms around me and claimed my mouth with a savage kiss. "I will make this right for us, Raina. I promise you." The old elegant elevator lumbered slowly to his floor. I wasn't in a hurry. His mouth and mine passed the time well enough.
The doors slid open and we crossed into his apartment. In spite of the fact that I was utterly ready for whatever he had in store for me, I had to gasp at the beautiful interior. It was blended elegance with a vengeance. The inlaid wood floors were strewn with oriental rugs and everything was done in rich shades of burgundy, blue and gold. Antiques, Chinese vases, crystal lamps, modern overstuffed couches and striking Impressionistic paintings all melded together into a harmonious and surprisingly comfortable looking whole.
"This is a beautiful apartment. Did you do this yourself?"
"Yes, I did. It's my refuge." He put his hand against a particularly delicate blue and white vase on the hall table. "Some of these things are from our old house."
I knew now, more than ever, why Tristan felt he needed a refuge. After living through the last few days I felt like I needed one, too. Once again I felt a chill shudder cross my shoulders when I considered the vigilance required in his lifestyle. He saw my body language, but mistook the source. His strong arms gathered me close to him.
"Make love with me. Find your way so close to me that everything disappears but you and I for as long as we can make it last."
I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew I should be drawing back, not growing closer. But he had said 'make love'. The word had been spoken. Out loud.
He didn't give me any time for an internal argument. Gathering me in his arms, he kissed me with a compelling, passionate kiss that possessed me completely. His tongue found mine and played against it. He ran the tip up under my lips and bit softly on my lower one.
I laced my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in the waves that spilled over his collar. He bent and put one strong arm under my knees and another one at my back and pulled me off my feet. As he carried me through the living room and into the opulent bedroom, I couldn't help but think that someday I'd love to be carried this way as his bride. I filed that thought in the "don't go there" file , determined to enjoy the here and now knowing this could well be the last time.
My dress had ridden up to just under my hip bones and he could see the tiny string bikini covering my sex. He leaned down and blew through the fabric. The warm moist heat of his breath stirred my clit to attention. My body had learned well how to react to him and appreciate his every move.
"Take off your dress, Raina." It wasn't a request.
I loved the control in his voice. He wasn't asking for anything, he was demanding it. For some odd reason it made perfect sense, in this context with this man. I knew what to do with myself, with a man, in the bedroom, but with him there was an element of something I had never experienced before. I wanted him to tell me what to do. My life felt so out of control. I needed him to command me. I craved the strength in him.
"Lay back against the pillows."
I did as I was told. He removed my shoes and placed my feet far apart on the bed, splaying my legs open. "Beautiful Raina." He stepped over to the side of the bed toward my head and pressed my
Similar Books
