Pleasing Mr. Parker

“THAT WAS BOTH THE scariest and most exhilarating forty-five minutes of my life!” I laugh as Griffin places our bags inside the entryway of the beach house. “I can’t believe you flew that yourself.”

“I’ve been flying for years. A birthday gift from my dad.” He smiles at me. “And you were in safe hands the entire time. I would never let anything happen to you.” He walks into the huge open-plan kitchen and over to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of champagne and holding it up. I nod at him before allowing my eyes to roam around the space.

“This is your house?” I ask, walking into the living area, which is lined with white wooden bookshelves. I run my fingers along the spines of the sailing books, and local guides to coves and sea life.

“One of them,” he says distractedly as he steps out onto the rear deck and pops the cork.

“One of them,” I repeat, stopping in front of a picture of Griffin with Emily and two other men. The four of them are flashing mega-watt smiles, the sea behind them.

“Those are my brothers.” Griffin smiles as he passes me, back to the kitchen to fetch two glasses.

I look at the photo again. They are a lot like Griffin. One has the same dark hair, but stormy green eyes, and the other has blue eyes like Griffin, although a shade darker, and shorter deep chestnut toned hair.

“You all look happy.” I look at Emily’s wide grin as I place the photo back down.

“It was the day Emily hit her first million in charity donations. We came up here for the weekend to celebrate.” He comes to stand next to me, handing me a glass.

“Did you fly them all up here in your helicopter, too?”

He smirks as he clinks his glass against mine. “Are you making fun of my choice of transport, Ms. Taylor?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I smirk and continue my perusal of the room. “Is the whole house like this?”

“Like what?” His eyes follow mine around the whitewashed wood furniture, and over the cream sofas and shutters at the windows.

“Like something out of Coastal Living magazine.”

He tips his head back and laughs.

“What’s so funny?” I look back at him and he shakes his head.

“The design editor for that magazine decorated the house for me as a thank you for helping her out once.”

“Pays to have friends.” I smile, looking around again. It really is a beautiful house. Calming, tranquil.

Griffin watches me closely.

“Let me show you around.” His eyes sparkle as he takes my hand and shows me room after room of beautifully decorated spaces, all with the same light, fresh, coastal vibe.

“So, is this where you come when you take time off work?” I ask, setting my glass down.

He takes a dish of something out of the fridge and places it in the oven.

“I try to get here as much as I can. My housekeeper knew we were coming,” he adds, noticing me looking at the pre-prepared meal.

“We?”

“I had Harley call her this morning.”

“Oh.” I lean against the counter as I remember the delight in Harley’s voice when she caught us kissing. She visited the spa a couple of times throughout the day, but I was talking with a client each time, and so she went again, barely hiding the disappointment on her face. And now she knows that I’m here with Griffin tonight. I’m definitely getting grilled when we return.

“That’ll take half an hour,” Griffin says, walking over and standing in front of me.

I look around the kitchen, at the watercolor beach canvas on the wall, at the giant hurricane glass vase spilling over with fresh flowers… anywhere but at him. Because I know once I do, I won’t be able to stop the fire inside me from engulfing me the moment he touches me. The moment he touches me and says all the things I love to hear spill from his lips as he shows me what I’ve been holding back from all this time.

What I’ve been missing.

The air in the room stills, until all that moves is our breath, slow and rhythmic, in time with one another.

“Maria?”

I take a deep breath and flick my eyes to his. Their bright blue grabs hold of me, and it seems fitting that we’re at the ocean for this, because his eyes are the color of water I want to dive into. Dive into, drink from, bathe in… every damn thing possible.

“Yes?”

His eyes roam over my face and come to rest on my lips. “Say it.”

“Say what?” I gaze up at him.

He lifts his hand and trails the back of one finger over the side of my face, then down my neck, his eyes following its journey as it comes to rest above the swell of my breasts.

He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching my breasts rise as I take a deep breath.

“Give me permission to do anything I want to you.”

The restraint he’s exercising not to touch me any further without my consent has electricity coursing around my body, lighting up every nerve. I know once I say the word, that restraint will be gone. It will vanish, along with any chance of things ever being able to be purely professional between us.

There’ll be no going back.

I wet my lips with my tongue, stalling for time, because as much as my body is vibrating with the need for him to touch me, my mind knows that once he does, I will just want more.

One night with this man will never be enough.

And there’s the possibility this is all about the chase for a man like him. A man who is used to having his own way, getting whatever, or whoever, he wants. After my dad, I swore I would never gamble in my life. I’ve seen the destruction it leaves behind, the broken hearts.

But I find myself willing to take the risk, because in all my life, no-one has even come close to making me feel the way Griffin Parker does when he looks at me.

No one.

His eyes travel from my breasts and back to meet mine.

“You said you were starving for me. At the gala. You said you were fucking starving for me.”

The muscles around his eyes twitch as he listens to me.

“I am.”

The energy between us crackles in the air as I look at him. I knew what coming here meant. So did he.

But he’s waiting for me to say it.

I part my lips and stand on my toes to whisper in his ear. “Maybe it’s time I fed you.”

He pulls back and the corner of his perfect mouth curls as his eyes flicker with the confidence of a man who always gets what he wants, sooner or later.

“About fucking time, Sweetheart.”

Before I can react, he lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist to hold on. His eyes never leave mine, blazing like blue flames as he carries me upstairs to the master bedroom and throws me down on my back on the crisp, white sheets of the bed.

He crawls up over me and I sink my fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pull his mouth down to mine.

Our kiss is a hot, frantic mesh of lips, tongues, gasps, and moans. Every minute we’ve spent together up until this point creating an intense desire that we can only express by trying to climb inside each other, trying to intertwine ourselves in the fabric of one another.

He pulls back, panting, his eyes even more breathtaking in their fire.

“Come back.” I reach for him, even though I need to catch my breath. But he sits back on his knees between my legs and shakes his head.

“Patience,” he tuts. “I’ve waited a long time for you. You can wait one more minute.” His eyes drink in my legs. “Keep the heels on.”

It isn’t a request. It’s an order.

I shiver as he wraps one hand over my skin and then lifts one of my legs and runs his tongue across the top of my foot inside my shoe, and up to my ankle, the day’s growth on his chin dragging against my skin. I wriggle and peel my back away from the bed. He smirks and pushes one large hand down on my stomach, holding me against the mattress.

“Someone’s eager. Tell me“—he holds my other leg up by the heel of my stiletto as his tongue weaves a path up the inside of my calf—”can you feel your pulse in your cunt?”

I suck in a breath, biting my lip to hold in my moan.

The fact he’s dressed in a shirt and suit pants with a Rolex on his wrist only makes his words even filthier. Even cruder. Even more horny as hell. I’ve never been spoken to with the language that Griffin uses. But each syllable that passes his devilish lips brings with it another wave of desire, another rush of heat, another clench in my core, followed by slick arousal coursing between my legs.

My hands scrunch up the sheets on either side of me, and he chuckles and places my leg down. “I thought so.”

My body thrums with desire. I sit up and reach for him, but he grabs my chin in one hand before I can close the gap any further, halting my lips so they hover inches from his.

“Take it off,” he hisses, squeezing my face so my lips pucker. “All of it.”

He rises to his feet, his eyes holding mine as he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the floor. My eyes rake over his toned, broad chest and stomach.

“Now!” he hisses again, unbuckling his belt, the sound of the clinking metal the opening credits to what’s coming.

I reach around and unzip the back of my dress, letting it fall into a puddle around my feet. Griffin curses under his breath as he looks at my cream lace bra and thong. I wore this one specifically as the lace cuts low, causing my breasts to look like they’re about to spill out over the top. Seeing his reaction, I’m glad I did.

He pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift move until he’s standing gloriously naked. I swallow. His thick, hard cock with a vein running along its length hangs obnoxiously between his legs, taunting me with its arrogant confidence.

Even his cock knows I never stood a chance once I boarded that helicopter.

Now I get why he’s such a dirty talker—he has the goods to more than back it up.

“You’re getting distracted,” he growls.

I bring my eyes back to his and unclasp my bra, my nipples pebbling as the air hits them.

“And the panties,” he says, his eyes dropping to my hips.

I hook my thumbs under each side of the lace and wriggle out of them, letting them join my dress on the floor.

Griffin’s jaw is set, his brows drawn together as he takes his time sweeping his eyes over my body. I stand on display for him, arousal burning low in my core.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he finally breathes.

He looks at me with an intensity that steals my breath, and then he closes the distance between us in one large stride and wraps a hand around my throat.

“One more thing, Sweetheart.” His free hand reaches to the clip in my hair, and he yanks it out, sending my hair tumbling down my back. “Every time I fuck you, I want your hair down. Understand?”

I nod as I breathe in the air he’s just expelled, growing drunk on the scent of him. He’s everything I’ve never experienced—rough, controlling, commanding. Yet, I’m loving every second, despite knowing that I would never allow any other man to dominate me like this. Especially knowing I would never let any other man do this. Just him. Only him.

“Say it.” His fingers tighten against my neck and he leans down and runs his tongue over my bottom lip.

“Hair down,” I whisper.

He smiles, and then his lips are on mine, his hands fisting in my hair and forcing my head back as we kiss. I push my breasts into his chest, willing him silently to touch them. To relieve the heavy ache that’s settled in my nipples since he knocked on my door at the start of the evening.

I whimper into his mouth as his hands finally leave my hair and slide down to grasp them, his thumbs rubbing over my nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans into my mouth, pulling us down onto the bed as he tugs one nipple between his thumb and finger.

I hook my legs around his waist, trying to pull him even closer, but his mouth leaves me panting and writhing against the sheets as he dips his head and sucks a nipple into his hot mouth.

I moan and arch my back. Everything he does, every kiss, every touch, every word, has me loaded like a grenade that’s had its ring pulled. I’m vibrating, every cell ready to explode.

“Griffin,” I moan, grabbing his hair as he sinks two fingers inside me.

“You’re so wet,” he groans around my nipple. “So fucking wet.”

He adds a third finger and pumps me hard as he sucks my other nipple and grazes it with his teeth. All I can do is roll around underneath his solid body, praying that he’ll give me what I want soon. Because I know I’m not the one in charge. He is. It’s always him.

He sucks my nipple one final time before leaning back on his heels and staring between my legs. He flexes his fingers, parting them inside me, stretching me wide open. The air is cold against the wetness that’s seeping out all over his hand.

He bites his bottom lip and hisses, shoving my legs further apart with his free hand as he fixates on a spot deep inside my body.

“I can see right inside your creamy cunt.” He closes his fingers back together and circles them inside me, rubbing my G-spot and making me cry out. “My cock’s going to stretch you wide, Sweetheart,” he growls as he fists his cock, the end of it dripping with wet beads of his arousal. “And it’s going to feel fucking incredible… for both of us.”

My mouth falls open as he swirls his fingers again, setting me trembling. He’s so sure of himself, so confident, almost arrogant… and it has me moaning with the need to have him inside me.

To finally let go.

“Do you know what I want?” He pulls his soaking fingers out and holds them up to my mouth.

“What?”

As I part my lips, he slides his fingers inside my mouth and growls deep in his throat as I suck them clean. I swirl my tongue around them, hollowing my cheeks.

His curve of a smile tells me he’s picturing me doing it to his cock.

“I want to watch your face as you bleed your orgasm all over my cock.” He hovers over me, his eyes burning into mine. “Then I want to pump you so full of my cum that it’s still dripping out of you next week.”

I murmur around his fingers, wriggling beneath him.

I think I might be dead by the time he’s finished with me. Killed by too much sex.

He removes his hand and reaches over to the bedside table. The next second, he’s ripping a condom packet open between his teeth and rolling it down onto his cock, his eyes never leaving mine.

“But we’ll start with the first one,” he says as he holds my thighs wide open and pushes himself against me, the thick head of his cock pressing into me agonizingly slow.

I moan and pull my chin down so I can watch him bury himself in my body, inch by inch.

“Griffin.”

He takes both of my hands in one of his and holds them over my head against the mattress.

“Yes, Sweetheart.” He keeps pushing, his jaw clenched, until my body has accepted all of him and his balls are grazing my skin.

My eyes roll back in my head as I savor the stretch.

Fuck, he’s right. It does feel incredible.

He circles his hips, forcing a deep moan from my lips as I clench my inner thighs and throw my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles at his back.

“You feel so good,” I whisper.

“Lift your hips.” His eyes sparkle at me as he slides a cushion beneath my bum, canting my hips up toward him and re-setting the angle at which he’s entering me as he withdraws and then pushes straight back inside, holding my wrists above my head once more.

I cry out as pleasure rushes over every millimeter of my body, inside and out.

His other hand slides around my throat and his gaze darkens as he draws back and thrusts into me again, the sound of his balls hitting my skin echoing in the air.

“Again,” I cry, squeezing my eyes shut.

“You feel even better than I imagined you would,” he grits as he drives back into me.

He keeps hold of my wrists as he pumps his hips over and over, fucking me hard. I dig my heels into his back, holding him tighter, spurring him on as I arch my body against his chest. Heat and sweat cover our skin as I pant below him.

“Griffin… harder, please…”

“This sweet cunt is mine,” he hisses, stealing my gaze as I open my eyes. “Isn’t it?”

I nod, my breath turning to gasps as he thrusts, burying himself to the hilt and circling his hips, sending tension and heat racing to my clit.

“Say it.” He slams in again, and I grind against his skin.

“Yours.”

“All of it.” He slams in again, circling twice this time before he draws back, every ripple of his fat cock rubbing the muscles deep inside me.

I swallow as a bead of sweat runs between my breasts. I don’t care what he wants me to say. I will say anything to ensure he doesn’t stop.

“This cunt is yours,” I cry, bucking underneath him, my hands still pinned. Doing anything I can to get more friction against my throbbing clit.

“That’s right. I’m the only one who fucks it.” The sweat glistens on his chest as he leans down and drives his tongue inside my mouth, claiming it, just like he is with the rest of my body. He sucks my bottom lip as he pulls back. “Only me, Sweetheart.”

“Only you,” I pant as the tightness in my clit becomes unbearable. One more move and I will…

He circles his hips and I explode, coming around him in hard, fast waves.

‘Fuck,’ he hisses, his eyes glued to mine as I moan and writhe beneath him. ‘Squeeze me, Sweetheart. Squeeze.”

The crystal blue fire of his eyes brands me as he pushes his body into mine even harder, forcing me down into the mattress. He juts his chin forward, the muscles in his jaw tight as he groans and slams into me again. All the while his eyes burn into mine.

I will never be the same again.

He flexes his cock inside me, and it’s enough to make my orgasm roll into another. My lips part and I hold his gaze as my muscles ripple around him again, spasming in hard waves.

He groans deep in his chest and his fingers tighten against my wrists.

“Tell me,” he growls.

“I’m…” Pant. “… coming…” Pant.

“Good gir—”

“… all over your cock,” I finish, moaning loudly as the pulsating continues, hugging Griffin’s body tightly inside mine as I shake.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growls, upping his pace as he watches me ride my pleasure out underneath him.

His cock feels incredible, every vein in it massaging areas inside me I’ve never taken notice of before, the rim of his head dragging over my G-spot on the outward thrust.

“Shit.” I screw my face up as the final wave steals my breath.

He stills, grabbing my chin and forcing my eyes back onto his. Every muscle in his body tenses as he holds his breath.

Intense doesn’t come close to describing the look in his eyes right now.

Then he thrusts again, and his cock swells inside me.

“You.”

Thrust.

“Are.”

Thrust.

“Mine.”

Thrust.