Promise Me Forever: Manhattan Ruthless
: Chapter 26

“What the hell are you doing here?” I bark at Constantine as I emerge from the restaurant. I watched in satisfaction as she said goodnight to the schmuck she was with and gave her enough time to leave and get into the car.

I look past my driver, trying to peer through the tinted windows. “If you’re still here, she’d better be in that damn car.”

His lips press into a thin line. “She’s not, sir.”

Mild annoyance turns to the burn of anger. “Why not?”

He offers a small shrug. “She insisted on taking a cab.”

The woman is fucking infuriating. “You should have made sure she got into the damn car. I told you to get her home safe.”

“What would you have preferred I do, sir? Manhandle her into your car in the middle of the street? Maybe tase her and shove her in the trunk?”

Yes! “No, of course not.” Sighing, I run my hand over my face and immediately regret it. Her smell, the intoxicatingly addictive scent of her cum, is still on my fingers, and now all I can taste is her. My heart pounds a staccato rhythm in my chest. “Did she say anything else?”

He clears his throat and looks at his feet.

“Constantine?”

He takes a deep breath. “She said that you did not need to make yourself feel better about being a”—he winces—“a coldhearted asshole. She also said that she is a big girl who can take care of herself.”

She thinks I’m coldhearted? If fucking only. That would make this whole goddamn thing a whole lot easier, wouldn’t it? If only I didn’t feel so fucking much of everything whenever she’s around. I pull at the collar of my shirt, twisting my neck.

“Would you like to go home, sir?” Constantine asks, the question loaded with meaning. He opens my car door as he awaits my answer.

I step inside the car, but home is the last place I want to go.

The security in this apartment building is abysmal. I buzzed the super, and he let me in without even asking for my fucking name. Not a single word of greeting, the door just swung open. I shake off the uneasy feeling as I look around me with a judgmental eye. I’m fully aware of how privileged I am to have the kind of money that buys security and safety and to have grown up knowing nothing else. But still, I don’t like her living here when any psycho off the street could walk in and knock on her door.

Case in point, I hammer on her door with my fist. My anger festered on the car ride over here. I was angry at her for refusing the ride, sure, but mainly I’m angry with myself. How did I let myself lose control like that? And how the hell did I expect her to react when I treated her like a whore by offering her a ride home but nothing more? I bang again, and a few seconds later, I hear her footsteps. At least she has the sense to check her peephole, which doesn’t work out in my favor. She yells at me to go to hell.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just want to talk.”

“And I just want you to go away and leave me the hell alone.”

Dammit, does she have to be so infuriatingly stubborn? This is why I don’t do dating and relationships. They’re fucking torturous. Except here I am, on her doorstep. Ready to drop to my knees and beg if it will make her let me in. “I’m not going anywhere, Amelia.”

“Then you’d better get comfy, because you’re not coming in here, asswipe.”

I suck in a deep, calming breath, unclench my fisted hand, and rest it on the door. “Asswipe? Really? I’m offended, but only by the subpar caliber of your insults, Miss Ryder.”

As I expected, that pisses her off enough that the door opens a little. She folds her arms over her chest, her cheeks pink with rage. She’s wearing pajamas, if they could be called that—barely there boy shorts and a shirt, the fabric so flimsy I can see the outline of her nipples. Dammit it all to hell, now all I want to do is pin her to the wall and fuck every bit of attitude out of her and every ounce of anger out of me. “Can I come in?”

She taps her foot impatiently. “No. Whatever you have to say, you can say right here.”

I make a show of glancing up and down the hallway. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want your neighbors hearing any of the things I’d like to say to you right now.”

Her breath hitches and her pupils dilate, but she tips her jaw defiantly. “I’ll take my chances.”

I lick my lips and hold her gaze, wondering how far I can push her. Because as much as she likes to pretend she hates this back and forth between us, she loves it as much as I do. “I want to fuck you. No, I need to fuck you. But before I do that, I’d really like to spread you wide open and⁠—”

She pulls me inside and slams the door closed behind me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Kris with a K has teenage boys!”

Fuck me, I love pushing her buttons. “Well, I did warn you.”

She blows a strand of dark hair from her face. “I don’t just mean that, Drake, I mean …” She looks at the floor and takes a step back from me.

I follow her, tipping her chin up with my forefinger until she’s looking at me once more. “You mean what, Amelia?”

The curve of her throat works as she swallows. “You ruined my date.”

I grind my teeth together so hard my jaw aches, and then I shove my hands into the pockets of my suit pants so I don’t wrap them around her slender neck. At least not yet. She obviously needs to talk some shit through first. “I’m not here to apologize for ruining your date, because you shouldn’t have been on a fucking date in the first place.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “And it seemed to me like you were enjoying your time with me in the stairwell a hell of a lot more than your dinner with that prick from accounting.”

“His name is Jacob.”

“His name will be Jacob from the Chicago office if you so much as smile at him again, Amelia.”

She steps forward and raises up onto her tiptoes, her hands screwed up into little fists. “Are you listening to yourself? Can you actually hear this horseshit coming out of your mouth? Why shouldn’t I have been on a date, Drake? Why?”

I’d like to tell her, but I barely understand it myself. I’ve been working off instinct all damn night, and all I manage is a frustrated growl.

“Why?” she yells, her face so close to mine that I could dip my head and kiss her.

I move without thinking, and in a flash, my hand is on her throat and she’s pressed up against the wall of her apartment. Her pulse flutters beneath my palm, her nipples spiking through her thin pajama top.

“Because you’re mine, Amelia. Don’t you understand that yet? You don’t get to drive me crazy every second of every fucking day and then go on a date with some jackass who works for me. In fact, you don’t get to go on a date with anyone. Ever.” Where the fuck did that come from? What has this woman done to me?

“You’re insane,” she whispers, but her pupils are blown wide, her hazel eyes the color of a forest at midnight. Her pink tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I swear I feel the action as though she’s swiping it over the head of my cock. Hot, pulsating need ripples down my spine.

I press my forehead against hers, drinking in the scent of her. “Yeah? Well maybe I am insane, because I am fucking obsessed with you. Believe me, Miss Ryder, I have tried very hard not to be. I can’t stop thinking about you for more than five seconds. Whenever you’re anywhere near me, all I can think about is how good you taste.” I release a low growl, and she shivers, those hard nipples grazing my chest. “All I can think about is how good your tight cunt feels when I sink my cock into you, like we were made to fit each other. Your smile is the only goddamn thing I see when I close my eyes. You are the air that I breathe. You are everything and everywhere, and I can’t go one more single fucking day without touching you.”

Her chest heaves as she sucks in a shaky breath. “We already agreed that we can’t do this. You’re my boss, Drake.”

My cock pulses, twitching against her belly. “Then I’ll fucking quit.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not even within the realm of possibility. I don’t want to be the secretary screwing her boss, and I definitely don’t want to lose my job. I’ve given up my career for a man before, and I’m not doing it again, not even for you.”

Not even for me? I tuck her hair behind her ear, my other hand still resting on her collarbone. I’m mesmerized by the rise and fall of her breathing, my fingers gently exploring the hollows and curves of her throat.

“Nobody has to know, and you won’t lose your job. We’ll figure it out.” My tone is desperate, pleading. I have no clue how we’re going to figure this out or how we can make it work, but right now it appears I’m only thinking with my dick. And my dick is only interested in one thing—being buried inside Amelia Ryder.

“Drake, no. It’s impossible, and not only because of work. I don’t want something casual, and you don’t do relationships.”

Fuck. I want to put my fist through the fucking wall. That used to be true. It’s how I’ve been since I was twenty-three years old. But with her, those feel like empty words I used to say. Words that became empty when I met her. “I don’t know about all that. I just know that I want to do you, Amelia.”

It sounds like something a high schooler would say, and she presses her lips together like she’s trying to suppress a giggle. She doesn’t quite succeed, and at least it does something to ease the tension that is filling the cramped entryway of her small apartment.

I wince. “Yeah, I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.” Well, not completely anyway. I’d laugh too, but I’m too on edge to find any of this remotely funny.

She pulls her juicy bottom lip through her teeth, cocking her head up and looking into my eyes. “So you don’t want to do me?” The words vibrate through my body, bypassing the logical part of my brain and traveling directly to my aching cock.

There’s no going back now. If I do this with her, then I’m really doing this. All in. “Oh, I want to do you every single way there is, Miss Ryder, and then I’m going to invent some new ones. But I want to do this whole thing with you. Whatever this is. Whatever it looks like. We can keep it a secret or tell the whole fucking world, but just let me have you.”

She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. I’m pretty certain my heart actually stops beating while I wait for her response. I don’t know how the fuck I’ll go on if she turns me down. “You’ve already got me, Drake.”

I waste no time in sealing my mouth over hers, lifting her so she can wrap her legs around my waist. Rocking my hips, I chase a little relief by grinding my aching dick against her, but it’s not enough. I need so much more. Breaking our kiss, I groan my frustration. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”

Her eyes light up. “I have some. They’re in my dresser.”

I try not to let my completely irrational anger show on my face, but I guess I fail because she rolls her eyes. “Women are allowed condoms now, you know. It’s not 1950.”

I rub my nose along her jawline, and jealous heat coils in my chest. When the fuck did I become this guy? “I know that. But I hate the thought of you ever wanting to use them with anyone but me.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, her lips twitching with a smirk. Looks like my girl enjoys it when I’m possessive. “Well, I didn’t and I don’t. The girls bought them for me after my divorce, and the box is still sealed. Satisfied?”

“Not even a little. But I’m gonna be.” I find her bedroom on the other side of her tiny living area and kick the door open with my foot, not bothering to be gentle. Amelia’s legs tighten around my waist as I carry her to the bed, my lips never leaving hers. I set her down on the edge of the mattress and finally break our kiss.

“Where are they?” I ask, already yanking open the top drawer of her dresser.

“Second drawer,” she pants. Yeah. She wants this just as much as I do.

I rummage through the drawer, pushing aside neatly folded sweaters until my fingers close around the small box. When I turn back to Amelia, the sight of her nearly brings me to my knees.

She’s lying back on the bed, her dark hair fanned out around her on the pillow. Her pajama top is pushed up, exposing a strip of creamy skin above the waistband of her shorts. Her lips are swollen from our kisses and her eyes rake over my body. I toss the box of condoms onto the nightstand and prowl toward her, a predator stalking its prey.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I growl, reaching for the hem of her pajama top.

She lifts her arms and allows me to pull the offending item over her head. Her breasts spill free, nipples pebbled and demanding my attention. I waste no time lowering my mouth to one peaked bud while palming the other, squeezing hard until she moans.

She arches into my touch, another breathy moan escaping her lips. “Drake, please …”

I release her nipple with a wet pop and look up at her flushed face. The sound of her begging has me desperate to give her what she needs. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she tugs me close enough to kiss me again. “I want you,” she breathes against my lips. “All of you. Right now.”

I groan, my cock straining painfully against my zipper. “Fuck, Amelia. Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?”

My hands slide down her sides, coasting over her ribs before hooking into the waistband of her pajama shorts. I pull them down along with her panties, leaving her gloriously naked underneath me. Allowing myself time to appreciate the moment, I drink in the sight of her, all creamy skin and supple curves.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, trailing my fingers up the inside of her thigh.

She shivers beneath my touch, her legs spreading wider in invitation. “Drake, please. I need you. I’ve waited so long.”

Oh, her need is fucking exquisite, and I decide I’m going to make her wait a little while longer. I’m going to enjoy teasing my little vixen so damn much. I dip my head and press a kiss to her inner thigh. “Patience, baby. I want to savor every goddamn inch of you.”

She whimpers as I trail kisses over her flesh, the heady scent of her arousal already scrambling my senses. I deliberately avoid allowing my mouth where she wants me most, knowing it will be even sweeter for the wait. I brush my nose over her pussy instead and inhale deeply, as intoxicated by her scent as I am by every other thing about her. Where the hell has this woman been my entire life?

“Drake,” she moans, fingers tangling impatiently in my hair. I chuckle, and even the touch of my warm breath on her skin makes her gasp. When I finally drag my tongue through her wet center, she cries out, her hips bucking against my face.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I remember, mi rosa,” I groan, sucking her clit into my mouth. “So much better than having to taste you on my fingers.”

A shudder runs through her, and her grip tightens in my hair. I reward her with my tongue, alternating between broad strokes and teasing flicks, driving her wild. Her taste floods my mouth, sweet and addictive and so incredibly delicious that I could do this every day for all eternity and never get bored. Her breathing grows increasingly rapid, and I can tell she’s close. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit the spot that makes her see stars. Her walls clench around me as I gently work my fingers in and out of her, my mouth never leaving her pulsing clit.

“Drake, I’m so close,” she gasps, her thighs trembling against my ears. “Oh god, don’t stop, please don’t stop …”

I have no intention of ever stopping. I am going to spend the rest of my goddamn days with my head buried between this woman’s legs. I double down on my efforts, pulling her clit into my mouth and lashing it with my tongue while I sink my fingers deeper inside her. Her back arches off the bed as she unravels, a cry of ecstasy coming from somewhere deep inside her and tearing out of her throat. “That’s my good girl,” I say, my lips still pressed against her skin as I work her through her climax, gently coaxing every last tremor from her beautiful body.

Her fingers fall from my hair. “Come here now.” She sounds utterly sated and completely perfect.

I growl, unused to being told what to do, but for her, I can make an exception. For her, I can do anything at all. I crawl up her body, trailing my tongue and teeth over her skin until I reach her lips, and I capture them in a bruising kiss that lets her taste herself on me. She moans into my mouth, her hands frantically working at my belt buckle.

“Already greedy for more, baby?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes as well,” she mumbles against my lips.

Laughing, I pull back to shrug off my jacket and unbutton my shirt. Amelia’s hands join mine, her fingers trembling slightly as she helps me undress. When I’m finally naked, she lightly scrapes her fingernails down my chest and across my abs.

“You’re so perfect. Are you even real, or were you made in a lab?”

I capture her wandering hands and pin them above her head. “Not even close to perfect, baby. But I am very real.”

Leaning down, I drop kisses along her jaw and down her throat and nip gently at her collarbone. She arches into me, her breasts pressing against my chest.

“Drake, please,” she whispers. “I need you inside me.”

I reach for a condom from the nightstand and tear one open with my teeth before handing it to her. She bites her bottom lip as she takes it from me, eyelashes fluttering and her cheeks flushed bright pink. “Don’t pretend to be coy. We both know you’re a wicked temptress, Amelia Ryder.” I wink at her, and she laughs. When she rolls the condom down my length, her expression is one of intense concentration and her hands shake. There’s something about her uncertainty, her lack of experience with other men, that makes me burn with the possessive need to ensure that she will never do this with anyone else ever again. That, along with the sensation of her hand on my cock, nearly undoes me.

After positioning myself at her entrance, I make myself pause and search her eyes for any hint of hesitation. Because there’s truly no going back after this. We’re doing this in full knowledge of the fact that I’m her boss and she’s my employee. We can’t pretend we don’t understand the power dynamic that’s at play here. I find myself uttering the words “Are you sure about this?”

She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Drake.”

Thank Christ for that, because I have no fucking idea how I would have torn myself away from her if her answer was different. I slowly push into her with one long, smooth stroke, savoring every inch as her tight heat envelops me, squeezing me tight. “Jesus, fuck, you feel amazing,” I groan, resting my forehead against hers. “So fucking wet for me. You’re fucking perfect.”

Amelia gasps and rolls her hips, urging me to move. “You feel amazing too.”

I rock into her, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has her groaning. I start gentle, but then I pull all the way out and slam back inside her, hard. Her nails dig into my back, and she cries out as I hit that sweet spot inside her. “Oh, my! Drake,” she moans.

I pick up my pace, driving into her harder with each stroke until the headboard slams against the wall on every thrust. I worry vaguely about the neighbors, but only for a split second. I don’t give a shit about the neighbors or the rest of the world. All that matters is Amelia and this moment right here. The way her body feels against mine, the desperate little sounds she makes as I push her closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” I say, nipping at her earlobe. “Let me hear you.”

Her cries grow louder and more feral as I pound into her. I feel her walls squeezing me tighter as she gets closer to the edge. I’m almost there too, my head spinning and my heart booming as endorphins race through my body. Snaking a hand between us, I find her clit and circle it with my thumb. Her back bows, arching off the bed, and a keening cry escapes her lips.

“I know,” I say, soothing her, feeling my own release near. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

Her nails rake down my spine as she shatters around me, crying out my name. The tight squeeze of her pussy is enough to trigger my own climax, and I bury myself deep inside her with a guttural cry.

For a moment, we’re both still, panting heavily as we come down from our high. I rest my forehead against hers, not wanting to break our connection just yet. Maybe not ever. Amelia’s hands come up to cup my face, her thumbs stroking my cheeks. It feels magical, this thing between us, and for the first time in as long as I remember, I feel safe.

“Drake,” she breathes out. “That was incredible.”

It was better than incredible. It was so good they need to invent new words to describe it. But right now, I don’t want to talk. If I talk, I might fuck it up. And if I fuck this up, my heart will snap in two. Instead, I seal my lips over hers once more, pouring everything I’m feeling, everything I am, into this kiss and hoping that it’s enough.