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CHAPTER THREE
‘MADAM.’ A SUITEDdriver stood waiting, the door to a black car with darkly tinted windows held open, his eyes focussed behind India.
She bit down on her lip, a hint of apprehension at what she was about to do assailing her. But it was too late to turn back, and besides, she didn’t want to. Sliding into the car, she realised that it was far larger than an ordinary vehicle, though not quite as big as a limousine. A bench seat was at the back, and, directly opposite, two large chairs faced her, with a shiny black box between them. She took a seat on the bench, knowing it was because she hoped he would sit beside her, wanting to pick up right where they’d left off. The door clicked shut and she sat, hands clasped in her lap, waiting, her heart pounding, her breath burning with the desire he’d invoked.
Her phone beeped and she pulled it out of her bag, guiltily reading the response from Ethan.
I hope you feel better tomorrow, India. Sleep tight.
She winced, not liking how it felt to lie, the unusual turn of events pushing her to act in a seriously uncharacteristic manner. Before she could slide her phone away, it beeped again. A text from Jackson.
Hope you’re having a great birthday. Wish I could have been there.
Her heart skipped a beat, because she was having a great birthday, and with a hint of disloyalty she realised she was now glad Jackson hadn’t come back to New York. She was glad she’d been here tonight, that she’d met Khalil.
Having a great night, miss you. Thanks for checking in. x
She pushed the phone into her bag as the car door opened once more and Khalil stepped in, his frame instantly making the enormous vehicle feel smaller.
‘Hi,’ she murmured shyly. His cheeks were slashed with colour and his jaw was locked, as though angry or stressed. But as he looked at her he smiled, a smile that sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies into her stomach and pulled an answering smile across her own lips.
‘I believe you promised me a life story,’ he reminded her as he took the seat beside her, just as she’d hoped.
He pushed his arm up behind the seat, making no effort to keep any kind of space between them.
‘I’m not sure you’re remembering accurately.’ The car’s engine throbbed to life. A moment later, a dark screen slid between the back of the car and the front, offering privacy.
‘Are you keeping secrets?’
She shook her head, wide-eyed, and lifted a hand to his chest. ‘No, I just—’
But he understood. His eyes flared as he dipped his head lower. ‘Don’t want to talk?’ He finished the sentence for her, brushing his lips over hers.
She shook her head.
His laugh was husky, uneven, and somehow, despite her lack of experience, she knew he was as surprised by the strength of their desire as she was.
His kiss was slow and explorative at first, but that wasn’t enough. This time, it was India who deepened it, hungrily demanding more of him than he was giving her, her body cleaving to his as the car moved through Manhattan. She groaned, the kiss nowhere near enough to satisfy her, so she moved swiftly, unclicking her seat belt and pushing up, her dress lifting over her thighs as she straddled him, rolling her hips in a silent, eager invitation to his masculine strength. His arousal was firm between her legs, with far too much fabric blocking him from her, so a wild kind of desperation overtook her. As she kissed him, her fingers moved, thrusting his belt apart, then his zip, needing more than she could put into rational thought and words to feel him inside her.
‘Please, Khalil,’ she said, because she knew how it drove him wild to hear his name on her lips. She rolled her hips again, kissing him more, and then, she lifted her dress over her head, needing to be naked. There was flame burning within her, a flame he’d lit, and she needed him to control it, to feed it, to eventually extinguish it—but not for a long time, yet.
He swore at her nakedness, and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his fingers plucking at her nipples until she saw stars. Her back arched and she cried out as he moved one hand between her legs, brushing against her sex almost by accident as he reached into his pants and freed his arousal from the confines of his clothing.
She kissed him hard then, lifting up on her haunches so his hands could dispose of her underpants, pushing them low enough for her to kick them off. It was instincts that were driving her, not experience. India had barely any of that, certainly nothing that would guide her in the way of men and pleasure, and yet she moved back to his lap and welcomed him, taking his length deep on a long, slow breath, pleasure exploding as he filled her completely, her muscles stretching to accommodate his generous size.
It was impossible to be aware of the lights that were streaking past their window, the city a shimmering blur in the distance as he rocked his hips and India thrust down on his length, pushing them towards an inevitable, almost immediate climax, tipping her over the edge at the same time he exploded, drawing her close to him, kissing her hard as their bodies united in rapture and joy, their mutual release punctuated by India’s frantic cries.
Afterwards, only the sound of their breathing was audible in the back of the car—no sounds of New York permeated the vehicle’s bulletproof steel. Even if it had, India wouldn’t have heard it. Her ears were full of the rushing of her blood and the exhalation of her breath, her heart turning over at the suddenness—and rightness—of this.
‘That was—’ She searched for the right word, but Khalil beat her to it.
‘Just the beginning.’
Her eyes flared and she smiled, lazy, warm pleasure spreading through her completely. She didn’t move; not at first. She didn’t want to be parted from him. It was far nicer to feel their bodies melded together, to experience his breath through her chest, to be able to kiss him as she wanted, as the car snaked through the city. But eventually, Khalil ran his fingers lightly over her back, his voice husky. ‘We’re here.’
She lifted her head to see they were in an underground parking garage.
‘Allow me.’ As she wriggled off his lap, Khalil retrieved her dress, lifting it over her head then letting it cascade down her body. ‘I am already looking forward to removing that all over again.’
