Page 59 of Arrogant Heir
‘Big!’
‘Let’s see how big, shall we?’
I nod and open my legs. He produces a condom and rolls it on. He kisses me and pushes into me, driving his hardness into the heat between my legs. My eyes widen, and I gasp.
We quickly find our rhythm as he fills me up like we’re perfectly designed for each other, and I grip onto his muscular arms as we move together, and time stands still. I’ve never had erotic sex like this before, where his touch is enough to make me explode on his fingers. Now he’s in me, I never want this to end.
We’re so charged from lusting after each other for so long, we’re both at boiling point and he says, ‘I’m gonna come soon.’
‘Come then,’ I whisper.
As he pounds into me, wave after wave of searing pleasure rips through me, each new wave building on the previous until I don’t know who I am or whether my name is Jamie, Jackson, or Red. I only know I’m supposed to be with him. He calls out as he loses control and we come together in a fierce crescendo of ecstasy.
Joy bubbles in my chest like sparkling prosecco as he drops a kiss on my hair, and we lie spent and satisfied in each other’s arms.
I’m under the arrogant heir, but he’s surrendered to me like a tamed tiger.
What now?
We doze for a while and then decide we’d better get into action.
‘Are we alone?’ I ask, knowing how many staff the family employs at Greystone.
‘Yeah, my housekeeper’s gone home. She only works mornings on Saturday.’
He makes us coffee and buttered toast and we sit at the dining table overlooking the Thames.
‘I’ve not been in a penthouse as impressive as this before,’ I say, in between toast nibbles. I’m wearing one of his shirts and just my knickers, but the place is warm. He’s got running pants on, like the ones he wore at Greystone when I couldn’t take my eyes off his bulge, but his top is bare, and I admire his firm chest and broad shoulders surreptitiously.
I feel at home with him and I’m glowing inside and out. The sex was the hottest I’ve ever had, and I yearn to do it again before the ball. I’m so horny for him I want to do it with him all night, but I mustn’t get ahead of myself. I don’t usually have a voracious sexual appetite, but it seems with him all bets are off.
I feel like I’ve become someone else, but conversely feel more myself than ever before. It’s an exhilarating experience and I don’t know what to make of it. For now, I’m just going to ride the high. And ride him too if he wants me as much as I want him.
He raises his head and says, ‘I didn’t ask what you’re doing after the ball.’
‘I planned to stay at my flat.’
‘Where is it, again?’
‘I don’t think you’ve ever asked where it is,’ I say, softly.
‘Um. There are a lot of things I didn’t ask. I presumed you lived with your fiancé,’ he says, his eyes smouldering.
‘I never actually lived with him. His place is in Shoreditch. It’s a cool apartment—not on this level—but fancy.’ I sip my coffee and continue. ‘I kept my flat in Clapham Common and thank God I did.’
‘Good for you. Shoreditch is the most dreadful place,’ he says, sniffing.
I laugh. ‘Don’t be such a snob. It’s actually become a very fashionable part of London.’
‘Fashionable it may be, but east London is still dodgy. Give me west or south any day.’
He pushes his empty plate away, sips his coffee and then says, ‘What does this wanker ex-fiancé of yours do, anyway?’
I can’t help laughing at his disparaging expression. ‘He’s an investment banker.’
‘Successful?’
‘Depends what you call successful, I guess. You Rochesters have different standards to us regular mortals. He makes a lot of money. Big commissions, but he doesn’t come from a wealthy family.’