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The knowledge made her heart soar. Because if it was true, it meant Lucy was not his entertainment, was not one of hundreds of other women, and was definitely not the uncomfortable “kept” woman.
Suddenly she was swamped with the memory of Holden’s kiss earlier and she had to press her legs together in an effort to still the sudden, stinging ache in her sex. He’d looked so despicably gorgeous this morning when she’d entered his office that her heart had skipped a beat. His black hair had been mussed, his tie skewed sideways, his cheeks stubbled with a day’s growth of beard. And when he’d kissed her…
“You know? I’m glad he didn’t marry Katrina,” Irene said thoughtfully. “Now I’m lighting all my candles and cheering for you Divine, so please don’t ruin this for me. I want to have grandchildren soon, and so does Pipsqueak.”
Lucy nearly fell off her chair as she turned, wide-eyed, to stare at Irene, who was calmly scrutinizing her nails while a pair of magic hands massaged her feet. “Irene, you couldn’t possibly mean what I think you mean?”
“Why yes, dear. Didn’t I mention that Pipsqueak and I are getting married?”
The devil was right on time. He wore all red, but conveniently forgot the ridiculous tail and the mean-looking little horns at his apartment. Now, the fork he didn’t forget, and he carried it proudly, using it to tap on the front door of his princess’s place in the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
Lucy opened the door of her small apartment wearing a plush robe and a big smile. Before Holden could even open his mouth to speak, she lifted three fingers and said, “Three minutes, that’s all I ask for.”
In a hurry, she disappeared inside, leaving the door wide open for him. Holden felt like he grew four sizes when he followed her into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Her place was…quaint? Yes. Clean? Yes. Extremely tiny? Hell yes.
He waited patiently in the living room, stifling the urge to hunch because of what he thought was an extremely low ceiling height, and instead leaning on his tall plastic devil’s fork while he considered the wisest course of action. The wisest thing would be, naturally, to stay home and kiss her, hold her, make slow, sweet love to her. The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could either wait. Or he could make a move.
Narrow-eyed, he scanned his surroundings. If he took two steps, he’d reach the little kitchen. And if he took five steps he’d be in her bedroom…
Suddenly realizing there were only five steps between him and heaven, he set his fork down over the living room table and headed determinedly toward the partly closed doorway.
His abort-the-benefit-party-and-instead-make-love-to-Lucy mission went up in flames when she pulled the door open, dressed and ready, before he finished the fifth step.
“What do you think?” she asked from the doorway, looking all flushed and beautiful.
Well. First, he never thought someone could look so damned sexy, like a Kama Sutra princess, in such a strange costume. Second, he knew for certain he was going to have a pretty hard time keeping his hands off her for the duration of the event. Third, if she even thought he was going to allow her to prance around Manhattan with that cleavage…
“It’s too tight on top,” he said gruffly.
She laughed and, linking her fingers with his, pulled him toward the door, dragging him across the sidewalk and to the limousine parked outside.
They sat side by side in the back of the limo, his hand firmly settled on her thigh. As the car slowly moved through the darkened streets, Lucy said something about how fun the evening was going to be and Holden forced himself to smile. His entire body felt so tense he could barely even breathe. Every nerve in his body seemed to ache at her nearness, at the feel of her warm body so close to his. He felt weak with it, with the need to touch her.
Positively certain he couldn’t endure this torment a second longer, he shifted his hand upward, slowly stroking it up her inner thigh as he bent his head and softly planted a kiss on her ear, another on the soft skin of her temple. Surprised, she twisted her face to his, and having expected the move he swiftly captured her lips. She gave a startled gasp, presenting him with a golden opportunity to thrust his tongue inside her. He took it, flicking his tongue inside her mouth tentatively at first, then sliding it out and dipping it in again.
Settling his free hand on her jaw, he brushed his thumb over her cheek and kissed her slowly, his lips tender on hers, his tongue slow and gentle as it stroked the insides of her mouth, every inch receiving his full attention. He feasted on her lips, drank in a delicious coffee taste with just a bit of vanilla and a hint of cinnamon.
While he continued to kiss her, he gently took her hand and pressed it to his erection, groaning when she cupped him fully. He’d already rolled up the tinted window that separated them from Carlos and that gave Holden the freedom to kiss her, touch her. He’d sworn to himself a couple minutes ago that he would only kiss her—and maybe grope a little—but now he wanted more. Wanted to grope much more, grope her everywhere.
Gently, he pulled down the fabric covering her chest and growled in delight when it gave way to reveal her glorious round breasts, ripe and ready for him. It would have probably been impossible for her to wear a bra with the damned dress, but now, with the utmost reverence, he mentally crossed himself and blessed it—blessed that holy cleavage.
Bending down, he laved and sucked a pink, swollen nipple, and when he did, he felt a clenching pressure in his cock, felt it throb and pulse while Lucy slowly rubbed it through the fabric of his red devil pants. With her other hand she clutched the back of his head and pressed his face against her breast, writhing in her seat as he sucked her tits, expertly switching from one to the other. He snarled in hunger when he grazed his teeth over a nipple, softly biting the taut crest, fervently wishing he could eat it whole.
“Patrick,” she whispered.
It was the first time she’d actually said his name. It sounded like a prayer, like something sacred. God, he needed her. Like water or air to live. Slowly, his hand returned to her inner thigh and began to inch the silky yellow fabric upward. It rustled as it slid over her legs until it gathered in folds around her hips—and surprisingly revealed the dark, sweet-scented valley between her legs.
“Forget your underwear, Miss Divine?” he asked hoarsely.
She nodded breathlessly, her golden eyes shimmering like jewels in the darkness of the car. His answer was a painful grunt as he briskly dipped his hand to that spot he craved until he held her essence, grinding a slight pressure there with the heel of his palm. She was flooded with hot, slick juices, pooling like cream on his palm. His throat suddenly turned dry. Did they still have a couple minutes so he could haul her up and delve inside her or… She was touching him so expertly, he was shoving his cock against the gentle touch of her hand and practically begging for it. Though Holden never begged, he was willing to make plenty of exceptions with Lucy.
Shifting his hand, his middle finger found her delectable little pearl and slowly began to toy with it, making her buck her hips like a wild one. Grabbing his forearm in a death grip, she sank her nails into his skin and threw her head back ag
ainst the seat, gasping for air.
He groaned at the temptation the luscious curve of her neck posed and went after it with a vengeance, swirling his tongue over every inch of skin. She squeezed his dick through his pants as if she wanted to break it, tearing a raw groan out of him. Seconds later, she yelped in pleasure when he thrust his middle finger inside her. Honey oozed around his finger as her muscles clenched him, drawing him deeper, up to her center. Smoothly withdrawing, he touched the tip of two fingers to the slick outer folds before screwing them inside her with a harsh twist of his wrist. She cried out, the walls of her cunt opening then tightening around his fingers as they buried themselves as far as they could go. The scorching feeling of her swollen muscles so tight around his fingers made the sweat glisten on his brow and the burning flames in his body become unbearable.
Feverishly, her hand pulled on the drawstring of his pants, diving past the elastic of his cotton underwear. He made a sound of stark need when she touched his iron-hard erection and cupped him in her palm. His cock burned, and Holden could feel the tip of it already damp with his own come—almost spilling before she’d even touched him. She pressed his cock with the heel of her hand and splayed her fingers over his balls, driving him crazy with need.
