Page 131 of Guarded King

“Somewhere we can be alone.”

Two floors up, I tug her out behind me, and when I find the door I’m looking for, I throw it open and lead her inside.

The room is dark, but against the far wall is a long window that looks over the ballroom below. This is one of the smaller meeting spaces used during conferences to provide a private area for side-meetings.

Hand still clasped around hers, I lead her toward the window. It’s not one-way glass, but it’s smoked out, making it difficult for the people below to see who’s in here—or what they might be doing.

We can’t be gone for long, so without hesitation, I shove my hand through the slit in her dress, my fingers instantly finding the scrap of lace covering her.

With her pressed against the window, I nip the lobe of her ear. “I can’t not touch you. Not tonight. Not when other men get to smile at you and touch you and tell you how fucking beautiful you look.”

“Roman.” My name is a ragged whisper.

“Don’t make a noise,” I say as I slide two fingers deep inside her.

I pump them into her, over and over, relishing the way her wetness soaks my skin as she tightens around me.

“I want you,” she pleads. “I need you inside me,”

Eyes squeezed shut, I grit my teeth. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control, and I’ve always used condoms before,” she says.

The implication makes me almost lose my mind. “What are you asking?”

“I want you to come inside me.”

I still, then pull back, a feral need I’ve never experienced before consuming me. “You’ll be the first.” My voice comes out low and rough.

“You’ve never… Even with?—”

“Never.” I cut her off. Fuck, the last thing I want is to hear Katherine’s name from her lips.

Our breaths are heavy in the dark room while below us, hundreds of people mingle, oblivious of the two of us.

With my thumb, I tenderly trace the soft skin of her cheekbone, the gentle action at odds with the hunger pounding through me. “I’m going to fuck you,” I tell her. “But I’m not going to come inside you here. The first time I fill you with my cum won’t be a rushed screw in a dark room.”

“Then what?—”

“Turn around. Keep your eyes on the party. See the people down there? They have no idea we’re up here. No idea your boss is going to make you come on his cock.” The words sound so fucking wrong and so fucking right at the same time. Like everything when it comes to Chloe.

Shivering, she turns and braces her hands on the windowsill.

I reach around and find the slit of her dress again. This time when I slide my hand under it, I gather the material up and push it out of my way, revealing the globes of her ass, a strip of black lace between her cheeks.

With my other hand, I undo my pants, shoving them down and pulling myself out. I glide my fingers over her hip and dip them beneath the waistband of her panties again, gathering up her wetness and using it to lube myself up.

Pulling the strip of material between her legs to the side, I step up closer and press the head of my cock to her hot, wet flesh.

She whimpers in response. That sound and the intensity of the sensation cause my heart to pound as if it’s going to beat its way out of my chest.

“Hold still,” I order, and when she does, I give one sharp thrust, sinking into her. “Fuck.” She’s so damn hot and wet and silky. I’ve never felt anything as incredible as Chloe’s bare flesh around mine.

Any control I’ve been clinging to evaporates. Releasing her panties, I drive into her again and again, harder, faster, one hand splayed over her abdomen to steady my movements, the other massaging her clit.

Her arousal drips down my hand and cock. “You’re always so fucking wet for me. Have you been needing this?”

“Yes,” she moans, head dropping between her shoulders.

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