Drawn to You Read online

  Why do those possessive words start a sweet ache in my belly, which grows and spreads until every inch of my skin is waiting impatiently for his touch?

  I shake my head. “I don’t belong to anyone,” I say stubbornly, “I sure as hell don’t belong to you.”

  He leans forward and, placing a finger under my chin, brings my face close to his. “Unless you’re telling me that you want to stop this, to end this arrangement… right now, then you belong to me.” His blue eyes are almost hypnotizing. “Is that what you want?”

  I want to tell him to go to hell. I can do that. I can go back to the suite and concentrate on my article while he remains in the next room. I can stay here for two more days without touching him. I can tame the craving that my body has for him. I can.

  I can’t

  I shake my head, too ashamed of my need for him to say the words out loud.

  “Say it,” he demands.

  “No,” I whisper, “That’s not what I want.”

  I see the smile of triumph on his face right before he lowers his lips to mine. The kiss is soft, possessive and sensual. He’s so skilled. He makes me forget everything but the feel of his lips over mine, the warmth as he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, before releasing it to slide his tongue into mine, licking and tasting. He’s gentle, tender, and so sweet, that I immediately lose myself, moving across the seat so that I’m leaning into his body.

  He pulls me onto his lap, deepening the kiss as his hands move down from my arms to my waist, setting fire to every inch of my skin he touches.

  I barely register it when the car stops, but I groan in protest when Landon tears his lips from mine.

  “We’re here,” he says softly, smoothing my hair.

  I nod, my body aroused and wanting, resenting the time we’d need to take the trip up to the suite.

  He starts to open the door, then stops and looks back at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he says, surprising me. “I wasn’t sure…” he stops. “I was very busy, but I should have called.”

  “Okay.” I watch him leave the car, barely having time to wonder what he’d been about to say before he’s opening the door at my side. As soon as I step out, his hand closes around my waist and he doesn’t let go even as we cross the spacious lobby.

  Once in the elevator he starts to kiss me again, pressing my hips against the walls with his, giving me no doubt as to his desire for me.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is a rasp against my ear. “Every single minute I had you in my head.”

  I respond by pressing my hips forward, and rubbing against the bulge in his trousers. He groans. “If you don’t stop that, we’re going to end up fucking in here.”

  I want to tell him that I don’t care, and right then, I don’t, but the elevator stops just in time, and he lifts me in his arms, carrying me all the way inside the suite to his room. He lays me on the bed, then starts to remove his clothes. Rising up to my knees, I pull my dress over my head, eager to be naked by the time he’s done undressing. I remove my bra and pull off my panties, just as he pulls down his briefs, letting his glorious erection spring free. At the sight of the thick, hard, length, and the veins bulging under the silky skin, heat spreads from below my stomach to pool between my thighs.

  He joins me on the bed, gently pushing me to lie on my back. He lowers his head to lick along the seam of my lips, making me shiver in pleasure. Then he starts to trace a path from my lips, over my throat down to my breasts. I squirm as he takes one nipple in his mouth, while he rubs the other one between his finger and thumb. He moves his lips to the other nipple, licking and sucking it, before moving downwards, over my stomach, kissing the mound at the juncture of my thighs before he nudges my legs apart, and lowers his lips to my sex.

  I groan at the first contact of his tongue, my hips bucking as he licks my clit. He grips my thighs and spreads them a little more, sucking me greedily before moving down to rim the pulsing slit of my sex. I moan loudly, my fingers threading through his hair as he drives me to the point of madness.

  “Landon,” I moan his name, unable to bear the heat and pleasure coursing through me.

  “Hmm.” The sound vibrates through my body as he moves his mouth back to my clit, teasing me to the point of climax, before moving back to my wet aching slit. My hips start to move of their own volition, matching the licking movements of his tongue. I feel his fingers, teasing at the entrance to my body, hovering there for a moment before he slides them inside.

  I squirm, my insides tightening and demanding more. He moves his fingers without stopping the teasing of his tongue, rubbing them against the tight bundle of nerves inside me. I cry out and jerk off the bed, my whole body exploding in a shattering climax.

  He removes his fingers and I draw my legs up, wanting to turn on my side and press my legs together to still the trembling all over my body, but he doesn’t let me. He kneels between my legs and positions himself, rubbing the wide head of his cock over my sensitive clit and down over my slick folds. I spread my legs wider, inviting him in.

  Slowly, he slides inside me, drawing out the pleasure as he fills me. I moan softly, rubbing my hands over the muscles of his chest as he surges forward with a groan. His muscles tighten, and he expels a slow breath before he pulls out almost entirely, and then pushes in again. I wrap my legs around his waist, tightening my inner muscles as I urge him deeper inside.

  “Fuck,” he groans, his hands moving feverishly along my thighs, his hips grinding as he thrusts into me again and again. My soft cries blend with the sound of his groans, and pleasure builds uncontrollably inside me, but still I want more. My hands find the tight muscles of his buttocks, and I press my fingers against them, urging him deeper. He starts to move faster, his body covered with sweat, his eyes shut, and his face tightened in an expression of primal male lust.

  My body seizes, unable to bear the pleasure anymore. I come with a loud, helpless cry, and Landon moans my name as he thrusts hard into me. Then he stiffens too, his hips jerking as he comes.

  Later, he leans down to lay kisses on the sensitive tips of both my breasts, then pulls out and lays back on the bed beside me. He draws me close to him and I relax into his body, luxuriating in the feel of his skin against mine, and his heart beating against my chest.

  I fall asleep soon after. A few hours later. I wake up and find myself alone on the bed. This time, I find Landon in the library, where a temporary office has already been set up for him, same as before he left. He’s sitting in the dark, his face lit only by the glow from his computer screen as he types something really fast. The door is open, and I watch him from the doorway, wondering if he ever sleeps.

  He doesn’t see me standing there, and after a while, I go back to bed. This time, without him beside me, it’s harder to fall asleep. I finally drift off, but for the rest of the night, even in my sleep, I’m aware of his absence beside me on the bed.

  I WAKE up missing Landon. The feeling is acute, real and sad, almost as if I’ve gone forward in time to when our arrangement is completed and he’s no longer a part of my life. It makes no sense, because for one, our arrangement isn’t over, and two, even when it ends, there should be no reason for me to be sad. It’s not as if we’re even in a real relationship.

  Still, I can’t shake the feelings of depression and emptiness. Confused by the intensity of what I’m feeling, and my inability to rationalize it, I get up from the bed, wondering if Landon is still working in the library. Wrapping myself in one of the sheets, I walk over to the bathroom.

  The dressing room and bathroom are combined in one large suite, and as I step in through the door, Landon emerges from the shower, totally naked. His hair is wet, plastered to his face and neck. His body is glistening with moisture, as little drops of water run down his skin. A cloud of steam comes out with him, carrying the tangy scent of his body wash.

  He stops when he notices me standing by the door, and his eyes linger on me for a moment. “Good mornin
g,” he says, going to a carved wood shelf next to the shower and picking up one of the hotel towels. He goes to sit on a low bench that runs along the wall by the marble bath and starts to dry his hair. I watch the bunching of his muscles as his arms move, my body responding almost immediately. This part I get, the wanting him. It’s only normal, no woman could see him and not want him. It’s the other part I don’t get, the way my feelings have started to become a mess that even I don’t understand.

  “Are you going to stand there staring at me all day?”

  He’s teasing, and it makes me smile. “Would you mind?”

  He grins. “Not at all.” For someone who has had so little sleep, he doesn’t look tired at all. How does he do it?

  “You hardly slept last night.”

  He shrugs. “I was working.” Something in his face tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it, and I drop the topic. He drops the towel beside him on the bench and combs his hair with his fingers. I could watch him all day, I realize. Everything about his body is amazing.

  I’m staring, and from the smirk on his face, he knows why.

  “I know I said I didn’t mind you staring at me,” he says, “but it seems I mind if that’s all you do?”

  “Really?” I chew on my lower lip. “What else would you like me to do?”

  “What would you like to do?” he asks. “I’m entirely at your service.”

  My eyes travel over his body, from his tousled hair to his naked cock, lying thick and hard on his lap, and growing harder by the second. I lick my lips and free the sheet I’m holding around my body, letting it drop to the floor before walking over to him. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I run my hands along his thighs, then looking up at him, I take him in my hand, stroking up and down his length.

  His breath deepens and his hips move forward. I bend my head and lick around the head of his cock while still stroking him up and down. He groans and throws his head back.

  “Fuck!” The word comes out as a low, harsh whisper. His fingers thread in my hair, flexing over my scalp, and I respond by taking him inside my mouth, and flicking my tongue around the head of his cock before taking him all the way in, until I can feel him at the back of my throat.

  His hands tighten in my hair and I hollow my cheeks, sucking deeply as I pull my lips back up, then do a deep suck on the head of his cock.

  “Rachel!” he groans, removing one hand from my hair to brace it on the bench, while the other remains to help him move my head to match the movements of his hips as he strokes his cock in and out of my mouth.

  It’s so blatantly erotic, what we’re doing. I feel as if I could come just from sucking on him. My eyes rise to meet his and he groans again, throwing his head back as his hips continue to move.

  I cup his balls with one hand, the other busy exploring the tense muscles in his thighs. I love the sounds he’s making, the way his muscles flex as his hips thrust. I love the heady feeling of feminine power I get from seeing how aroused he is. I want him to lose control, and I want to be the reason why.

  I tighten my lips around him, my tongue licking at the underside of his cock. His fingers flex in my hair and a tortured sigh escapes him, followed by hoarse words. “I’m coming,” he breathes, “Fuck! I’m coming.”

  I respond with a moan, taking him deeper inside my mouth. His hips thrust forward, his muscles stiffening and his whole body shuddering as he comes into my mouth in a warm rush.

  I swallow, milking him for every last drop. When I’m done he leans down and kisses me deeply, his chest still heaving.

  He releases me and I start to get up, but he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growls, “not until I make you scream.”

  His lips cover mine again, and his hands cup my breasts, but I take hold of his wrists and pull away from his kiss. “You don’t have to,” I tell him. “I sucked you off because I wanted to, not because I want you to return the favor. Anyway,” I continue, “You should be resting. I’m sure you need to recover your strength, and I want to take a shower.”

  I start to get off his lap, but he doesn’t release me. “I wasn’t trying to return the favor,” he says, “I happen to like making you come. I’m very fond of the way your face looks when you lose control, and the sounds you make are addictive.” He gets up, still carrying me, and moves like that to the shower stall.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, when he sets me down.

  He gives me a look. “You wanted to shower?”

  “Yes...”

  “Shh.” He turns on the water, testing it to get the right temperature. Then he reaches for the bottle of body wash. Even in the steamy enclosure, I notice that he’s hard again. How on earth does he do it!

  He pours some of the soapy liquid on his palm. “Turn around,” he orders.

  I do as he says, already aroused. He spreads the soap on my back, then my arms, his hands snaking in front of my body to soap my breasts, and then my stomach. By the time he starts working on my buttocks, my legs are weak, and my sex is pulsing with desire.

  He rubs the soapy liquid across my buttocks and my hips, spreading the round cheeks of my buttocks with each repeated motion. Hooking an arm around my waist, he pulls my ass back towards him. I steady myself by placing my hands on the glass wall of the stall, and gasp when with his free hand, he parts my butt cheeks, one finger coming to rest on the puckered opening between them.

  As he moves his finger, massaging the tight ring, the feeling is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, and I don’t want him to stop. At the same time, I can feel his erection pressing against the back of my thighs, intensifying my need to have him inside me.

  The hand on my stomach slides down between my legs. It slips between my folds and finds my clit, and a loud moan escapes me when he starts to stroke it.

  “What was it you said about recovering my strength?” he asks.

  My only response is another moan, which intensifies when the finger at my rear dips inside the entrance. My hips roll of their own accord, my body taken over by need verging on desperation.

  “I don’t need to recover my strength when it comes to you,” Landon whispers. “I could fuck you all day long.”

  I want him to fuck me now. I reach behind me, wanting to touch him at least, to feel his thick hardness in my hands, but he doesn’t let me. He pushes my hand away and leaves me hanging for a couple of seconds before I feel the head of his cock pushing into me from behind. Even as he slides fully inside me, his finger is still playing with my puckered rear opening, sending unbearable sensation through me even as he rocks his hips, using his cock to drive me to an explosive dimension of pleasure.

  With only a few strokes, my entire body is shaking, the pleasure nearly unbearable. My skin is covered with sweat and water and steam, and my whole body is pulsing, suffused with pleasure so intense that I can’t bear it. My hands flex against the glass wall of the stall, a scream tearing from my throat as I come so hard my legs give out.

  Landon holds me up, his own climax coming at the end of mine. He slams into me and comes in a hot surge, his growl full of ecstasy that mirrors what I feel.

  Later, after he has washed me all over my body, and shampooed my hair, he wraps me in a towel and carries me over to his bed.

  I snuggle against him, happy and contented. “What’s the plan for today?”

  “I already said I was going to spend all day fucking you.”

  “Ha!” I laugh softly. “I’d probably be dead by lunchtime. Though it wouldn’t be so bad, dying of pleasure.”

  His chest rumbles as he joins in my laughter. “I’d probably be the one dying from trying to keep up with you.” He nuzzles my ear. “After breakfast, I have a few calls to make, then we’re going out.”

  I raise a questioning brow. “Out to where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I hate surprises,” I declare with a pout.

  “I’m sure you’ll like this one,” he says, getting off
the bed, his tight muscles flexing as he walks towards the dressing room.

  I leave his bed, retrieving my clothes from the floor before going to my room, where I get dressed and make myself presentable. By the time I come back to the living room, Landon is already dressed. He asks what I’d like for breakfast, then makes the order. When he’s done, we go outside to the terrace, where he reads his newspaper, while I check my phone for emails and messages.

  I had a great time yesterday, a text from Jack reads, looking forward to hanging out when I get back.

  There’s no mention of Landon at all, but somehow, he’s there between Jack and me, even in the message. In a moment of clarity I realize that whatever my feelings for Jack were before, after Landon, they’re almost certainly gone.

  Acting on a suspicion I’ve had since yesterday, I do a search on Claudia Sever. The first few results are news articles from entertainment sites, and they confirm my suspicions. According to the sites, Claudia Sever has rekindled her on-again off-again relationship with billionaire Reese Fletcher, after ending a short engagement with American writer and TV personality Jack Weyland.

  I’m glad that I don’t even care enough to be disappointed in Jack. Why would he tell me that he had been dumped? It didn’t gel with his image, he was usually the one doing the dumping.

  There’s a message from my mother, asking how I am, and as I type my reply, an email from Laurie pops up with the subject line, ‘FAMOUS’.

  The email contains a screenshot. There’s Landon, opening the car door for me outside Jack’s hotel last night, and below it, part of an article.

  New York hotelier and real estate mogul Landon Court spotted in a passionate clinch with a mystery lady in San Francisco.

  All over New York, hearts are breaking as Landon Court is spotted with this mystery lady for the second time. We’re still trying to find out who she is, and how she managed to get the elusive bachelor on lockdown.