FOK (Wall Street Royals) Page 7
“Don’t miss a drop,” he ground out, unable to hold back any longer, and let his body take over, spilling into her mouth and down her throat. She waited until he pulled out, licking him clean in almost a reverent fashion before redressing him. She sat back down on her knees and awaited his further instruction.
“Very good, Celeste.” He held his hand down to help her up. When she stood to her feet, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’ll go get us a bottle and some glasses. Dress yourself and wait for me back on the love seat. The bathroom is right behind you if you need to freshen up.”
Ten minutes later, she sat down beside him, calm as always. Though he recognized the satisfied look of a submissive that she wasn’t trying to hide. He poured them both a glass of white he’d had chilling.
“I normally only drink water after a scene,” he said. “But since you aren't driving and we didn’t do anything too intense or long, if you promise me you’ll go to the kitchen and get some before heading to your room, I’ll make an exception tonight.”
“Thank you…” she raised an eyebrow as she took the glass he handed her.
“Lance is fine.”
“Lance,” she agreed with a smile. “I wasn’t sure. Some Doms feel different.”
Why did the thought of her with another Dom make him want to smash his fist through something? “I understand,” he forced himself to say.
She took a sip of wine and closed her eyes. “Oh, wow. That’s good.”
Her reaction made him smile. “I’m glad you approve. It’s one of my favorites.”
She took another sip. “What kind is it? It’s sweet, but not Reisling sweet.”
He lifted his glass. “I didn’t know you were a wine enthusiast.”
Her laughter sounded low and throaty. “I’m not near what you call an enthusiast. I’m merely someone who enjoys wines. Although it helps that my family is in the restaurant business. Knowledge of wines was part of my job, but still, I never recall tasting anything like this.”
“It’s a Gewurztraminer,” he replied. “Not as sweet as a Reisling, but because the grapes used for it come from the northern regions and are harvested later in the season, they make a sweeter wine than the average white grape.”
For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, enjoying their wine. Lance rested his arm along the back of the couch and brushed her shoulders with his fingers. She shifted, moving her body closer to his. He lifted a finger and twirled it around a lock of hair, not missing the shiver that went through her at his touch. He needed to stop before they went further than he thought prudent for the night.
“I enjoyed our time together,” he said, moving his arm. He hated to break the spell, but knew it had to be done.
She dipped her head and when she lifted it, her cheeks had heated. He fucking loved he could make her blush. “I did, too.”
“I would like to see you again, if you’re interested in us exploring more together.” He wasn’t sure why he worded it like that, surely she knew if they played together again, he'd fuck her until she couldn’t walk. And then do it again. “Though I recommend we move to my penthouse in that case.”
She giggled. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
He eyed her wineglass, mentally kicking his own ass for not remembering how it impacted her the last time. She still had over half a glass and he wasn’t going to give her another one. She should be fine.
“How would this weekend work for you?” He suggested. “I could make us dinner Friday night, and if you wanted, you could stay overnight.”
“I’m free all weekend.”
“Then it’s settled. Friday at seven-thirty. Your driver knows the address. But since you mentioned tomorrow, are you free for dinner?”
“Just dinner?”
“Yes,” he said, “Tomorrow night only dinner, and Friday night, perhaps more.”
“It’s a date,” she agreed.
Taking a submissive, even a potential submissive out to dinner, was nothing out of the ordinary for Lance. He’d always preferred to get to know his submissive partners outside of any power exchange relationship. Celeste should be no different.
But she was.
No other submissive made his heart pound and his body react the way Celeste did. Add to that the passion she’d played with during her audition and there was little he wouldn’t do to get to know her better.
He’d asked her to meet him in the lobby of his office building. It wasn’t the optimal location, but he saw no other choice. Picking her up at the estate wasn’t a good idea because Barbara might see and question what they were doing. If they met at his penthouse, he feared the temptation to take her upstairs and fuck would prove too much to resist.
No, he didn’t like it, but at the moment, he had no other viable options.
He found her inside the lobby, waiting, when he arrived five minutes early.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “I hope you haven’t been here long.”
“No,” she assured him. “Only a few minutes.”
Assured, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”
She looped her arm around his. “Lead the way.”
He’d secured reservations for dinner at a restaurant not far from his office so they could walk instead of taking a car. The hostess greeted them warmly and led them to the quiet corner table he’d requested.
He was unsurprised to find Celeste to be a delightful conversationist in addition to being witty and talented. Time passed much too quickly, but he couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a dinner conversation more.
They had finished their entrees, declined dessert, and were lingering around coffee.
“Tell me how you became interested in playing the violin.” They had discussed their favorite types of music over dinner, but now he wanted to dig deeper, to learn more about this woman who had captivated him almost from the first moment he saw her.
“My grandmother, my mom’s mother,” she said. “The one who came to live with us later?” At his nod, she continued, “Before she became sick, she was the most alive person I’d ever met. Her family came to America when she was thirteen and the only thing she brought with her was her violin.”
The way she spoke about her grandmother touched something inside him and he could almost envision a young Celeste, sitting by her grandmother’s side as she told stories of her childhood.
“We would beg her to play the violin for us and felt we’d accomplished something when she’d give into our demands and do so. When she played, it was almost as if the music transported her to another world. That’s how intense she appeared when she played.”
Lance wondered if she knew she did the same thing when she played.
“She’s the one who taught me how to play and gave me an appreciation for music that later became love. I hate that she died before I got really good and could play something that would make her proud.” She sniffled.
Though he had told himself he wasn’t going to touch her, he couldn’t help reaching across the table to take her hand. “She knows,” he told her. “Trust me. She knows, and she’s very proud.”
She dabbed her eyes with her napkin. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “I feel the same way about my mother.”
“She was a pianist?”
“Yes, and, of course she made me take lessons when I was young and of course, I hated them.” He’d felt guilty over that when she died and had wished he could have those years back.
“I’m sure you were the typical young boy, unable to sit still for longer than ten seconds.” Her soft voice soothed the hurt he’d been unaware he still carried.
“I never learned how to play.” It shamed him to admit, but he’d always seen it as a failure on his part, and one he’d never be able to fix or set right.
“Lance?”
He hadn’t noticed he’d been da
zing off into space until she whispered his name. “Yes.”
“I know your mother is very proud of the man you’ve become.”
It was that moment he realized that for her small size and willowy frame, Celeste Walsh had the power to flip his world upside down. But the most surprising part was, he didn’t mind at all.
Chapter Ten
Lance made a decision the next morning. Because he wanted to spend more time with Celeste, he would do what he’d often said he’d never do.
He would hire a personal assistant.
It would be nice to have someone to delegate to. A person he’d be able to trust. But of course the main reason was Celeste. She’d found out a few days prior that they had canceled the summer class she’d signed up for. Barbara mentioned over dinner a few nights ago that Celeste was thinking about going home to Virginia for the summer. Celeste hadn’t mentioned anything to him about leaving the city, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.
Lance would work whatever magic he had to make sure she stayed in New York. Starting on Friday night, he’d do anything in his power to make it impossible for her to think about leaving. First things first - he needed to find a P.A. He sent Lillian an email to see if she had any recommendations and was pleased when she replied with a handful of applicants. He didn’t ask how she had them handy because he was grateful she’d forwarded them his way so quickly. He selected his top five and sent out a few emails ready to set something up.
Later that afternoon, he received a reply from his top pick, Alex Russell. He was momentarily shocked the young man was interested. Lance had thought for certain, especially with such an impressive resume, that Alex wouldn’t be available.
Unfortunately, after several emails back and forth, it appeared the only time Alex could meet was Friday night. Lance hated having to reschedule with Celeste, but the way he saw it was that even if he had to cancel this Friday night, in the long run it’d give them more time together.
With a sigh, he emailed Alex back and grabbed his phone to call Celeste.
When Friday night finally rolled around, Lance gave serious thought to canceling with Alex. Lillian had been in a foul mood all day. No doubt, they all had Ty to thank. After telling his assistant to go home for the day, Isaac told Lance that if he had to, he’d fly to London and personally kick their business partner’s ass.
With all that drama, maybe having a personal assistant wasn’t worth the hassle.
The only thing that kept him going was that the result would translate into more time with Celeste.
He arrived early and went into the bar and ordered a whiskey neat. The bar was decorated in rich woods and vibrant shades of red and a faint scent of leather filled the air. The place was full, but not crowded and all around him people chatted animatedly.
He wasn’t sure what Alex looked like, but didn’t think he’d be too hard to pick out. Based on his resume, he was young, and almost everyone at the bar was in a group. Lance only needed to find someone sitting by themselves.
At the moment, the only person not with someone was a young woman. He took his drink and sat down at a table close to her, drinking slowly while watching the entranceway. By the time he’d finished his drink, Alex still hadn’t shown up.
“Mr. Braxton,” a soft feminine voice said from behind him.
He turned to find the young lady from the bar standing by his seat. She was lovely, with soft light brown curls that fell around her shoulders, striking blue eyes, and full lips that almost seemed to be laughing at him.
He raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t unheard of for someone to recognize him, but it didn’t happen often. “Yes.”
She held out her hand. “Alex Russell.”
Lance didn’t surprise easily. However, it shocked the hell out of him that Alex Russell was a woman. And it made him feel like a sexist idiot.
“I’m, I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I thought…”
She shifted her hips and gave him a knowing look. “You thought you’d be meeting someone with a y chromosome.”
“I did. I’m sorry.”
“Happens all the time.” She waved toward the hostess stand. “Shall we ask for a table?”
They sat at a corner booth close to windows that opened onto the busy street outside. Darkness had fallen, though, so the glass reflected the lit candles on the table. The restaurant suddenly took on an intimate atmosphere Lance hadn’t expected, and he shifted in his seat, uneasy.
Across the table, Alex templed her fingers. “You’re quiet. It’s not a problem I’m a woman, is it?”
“No, of course not,” he hurried to say.
“My resume hasn’t changed,” she said, as though he hadn’t replied. “On paper I’m the same person.”
“Ms. Russell, I assure you, your gender is not an issue for the position.”
“Is it a problem for you?”
There wasn’t anything sensual or suggestive about her question. It was straightforward and understandable under the circumstances. Yet, the uneasy feeling intensified.
“No, it’s not a problem for me.”
She glanced down at the table and a lock of hair fell across her forehead. “I should have somehow -”
“Ms. Russell, look at me.”
He’d used a firmer voice than normal hoping to stop her from apologizing for stupid things such as being female. But when she lifted her head, the eyes he saw weren’t of a businesswoman, but the soft and yielding gaze of a submissive.
It wasn’t a situation he’d ever found himself in before and it caught him off-guard for a moment. Obviously, he couldn’t ask her to confirm her sexual preferences. Nor would he ever breathe a word about his to either an employee or perspective employee.
Lillian was a submissive, but he only knew that because of the relationship he’d had with Ty prior to becoming business partners with the man. As a result, Lance had never even once considered playing with Lillian. He’d labeled her as off-limits. It should be easy enough to do the same with Alex.
He smiled at her. “When can you start?”
* * *
Celeste took a deep breath and told herself not to freak out. She couldn’t explain it but for some reason, she wasn’t able to find her calm today. Though she blamed it on Lance, it wasn’t fair of her to blame him completely. Some of her issues could likely be traced to the way her mind kept repeating his words.
You step a foot in my penthouse and you’re mine exclusively and I hold nothing back, you’ll be mine to tease, pleasure, and torment.
Did that mean he would be hers exclusively, too? Her and Lance Braxton? It didn’t even make sense if she pretended it was a dream. She didn’t pinch herself, but how was this possibly happening?
She opened the door to his building, planning to give her name to the security guard working the front desk, but to her surprise, Lance waited for her in the lobby.
“Lance?” She smiled.
He crossed the lobby and kissed her cheek in welcome. “Celeste. Thank you so much for being willing to reschedule.”
“I didn’t have anything else planned this weekend,” she said. “And if I did, I’d still make a way to see you tonight.”
He pulled her close and nodded at the security guard. “That anxious to become mine?” he whispered as he led her to a private elevator.
Her heart pounded faster. She was here. She was getting ready to walk into his penthouse and submit to him.
“I made us dinner,” he said as the elevator door opened on his floor. They stepped out into an entry way of sorts. She assumed the building had just one penthouse since Lance walked toward the only door. He swiped a keycard and let them in.
“Dinner?” She asked, trying to find her calm once again seeing as how the tiny bit she’d managed to muster vanished somewhere between the lobby and his floor.
“Typically the last meal of the day?” he teased, closing the door behind them. She must have looked stunned, because he pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest.
His hand lifted her chin, so she looked in his eyes. “Did you think I’d jump your bones as soon as you walked in the door?”
His easy going manner soothed her nerves, and she actually smiled. “Honestly? I wasn’t expecting you to seduce me.”
“Seduction wasn’t on my mind.” He continued to tease. “I’m making sure you have enough energy to keep up with me tonight.”
“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to end the conversation with a kiss. It was even more intense than she remembered, and by the time he pulled away, she didn’t care if they had dinner or not.
He rocked his hips against her. “Does this feel like a tease to you?”
Deciding to give him some of his own medicine, she dropped her hand to cup his erection. “No. It feels like my best fantasy come to life.”
He encircled her wrist so tight it almost hurt. “You are not allowed to touch me without permission when you are here.”
“In that case, I’ll have to just tell you what my fantasies are instead of showing you.”
He growled and pushed her against the door he’d just closed. She thought he would kiss her, but his mouth moved to her ear and he whispered, his voice harsh, “I hope you know what you’re doing, little girl.”
Since he’d called her that, she felt comfortable replying, “No, Sir. I only hope you’re getting ready to put dinner in the refrigerator so it doesn’t go bad.”
He pulled back and though he no longer appeared easy going, there was still humor evident in his eyes. “I can’t even tell you to go to my room to strip and wait for me because I haven’t had the chance to show you where it’s at.”
Before she had time to think of a snappy comment, he crossed his arms. “Which means you’ll have to do it here and now.”
Did he mean to get naked?
“Strip. Now.”
Apparently so. In less than twenty seconds, she’d undressed, her clothes in a messy pile on the floor. Did he want her to kneel?
He held out his hand. “Come with me to put dinner away. I’ll give you a longer tour later.”