"Yanna."
"Yes," I whimpered.
"You have to promise to keep quiet, though."
I nodded, unable to say anything more because his fingers were moving again, going up and down against my sheath.
"Are you ready?"
"Ye---" My mouth parted in a silent scream of agonized pleasure because Constantijin had again taken me by surprise, sliding his finger in and out in a rhythm that made a huge shudder go through my body.
"Quiet, schat."
I nodded, gripping the tablecloth desperately with one hand as I did my best to prevent my body from meeting the thrusts of his fingers. I was so wet and crazy for desire for him that even this very first penetration of my body didn't hurt. If anything, it just left me wanting for more and more.
"Do you want it faster?"
I nodded, and closed my eyes when his fingers thrust in and out in increased speed, making me catch my breath.
"Harder?"
I nodded again, not wanting to speak. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd end up moaning my pleasure instead.
His fingers fucked me harder and faster this time, and I nearly buckled in my seat when a second finger penetrated me. Oh, oh---a third finger? This was too much.
"Yanna." His voice was thick with desire now, almost guttural again.
I had to force myself to open my eyes.
"I want you to come now."
My breath hitched.
"I want you to come by impaling yourself with my fingers – get it as deep as you can inside you. All right, sweetheart?"
I could only gaze at him in muted desire.
"Say yes," he gritted out.
"Yes."
"Then do it now." And almost as if we had rehearsed this a thousand times, he shoved his fingers in just as I lifted my hips to meet his thrust. I bit my lip hard as I convulsed around him, aware of the wetness trickling out and to my upper thighs.
Dizzy with pleasure, I watched Constantijin take a handkerchief from his pocket and dip it in water. After a moment, I felt the cold touch of the fabric on my thighs. My legs parted on its own as Constantijin efficiently cleaned me under the table while his other hand drummed a lazy beat on the table, his golden gaze burning bright with satisfaction.
"You are right, sweetheart," he murmured when he pulled his hand away, seemingly satisfied with how he's cleaned me up. His lips curved in a knowing smile when he heard my legs immediately snapping shut the moment he withdrew his hand.
Still trying to keep my legs from trembling and wondering if I could actually walk a straight line after the very first orgasm I had in my life, I asked shakily, "I'm right about what?"
"This friendship of ours." He came to his feet in a fluid movement, utterly gorgeous and unflappable, not one bit of him betraying the fact that he had just gotten me into engaging in a public act of sex with him.
He smiled at me again. "I like this kind of friendship, Yanna. I look forward to more of it."
Lesson #5
Don't let yourself be rattled by your billionaire.
He'll see it as a come-on and find more ways to rattle you even more.
My weekend was spent lazing around in Alyx's home. She hadn't wanted to charge me for rent, but I had insisted. All our meals consisted of take-outs from nearby delis and fast food chains, since both of hadn't a clue of cooking. When she left Sunday to meet up with another set of friends, I quickly used the time to Google more information about Constantijin. I couldn't help it. He was already an obsession – but one I couldn't bear anyone knowing about.
Just this week alone, more photos of Constantijin came up, with a different arm candy for every event he attended. From the gossip rags, I also learned that he had left the country to sail with his friends, two other billionaires who were almost as gorgeous as he was. A famous celebrity paparazzi referred to them collectively as the Three Pussketeers. I totally agreed, even though the name also made my heart twinge.
God, I was pathetic. Any more of this and I was, like, so applying for some kind of hard casing for my heart. It had to be tougher to survive more attacks of seduction from Netherland's #1 playboy.
I came in as early as I could to work on Monday, but Charli was already ensconced in her ultra-savvy chair when I got to our office. She also had a new set of Post-Its stuck to our LCDs, and she was fast becoming like Donald Rumsfeld in that sense. In Woodward's State of Denial – I had this weird thing for political controversies and cover-ups – the author had revealed how Rumsfeld, who was still the Defense Secretary of the US then, would issue white sticky notes whenever he had new responsibilities and duties for his people. They called them snowflakes, and most of those sticky notes had been about the war in Iraq.
Glancing at my own set of snowflakes, I had to wonder what kind of war Charli was waging on behalf of Kastein Inc.'s.
My Post-It asked for a Power Point presentation for a manga series I could recommend which had the Big Three – romance, action, and comedy. And just because Charli had a lot of faith in us three – it said so in her snowflake! – we'd be presenting our recommendation to a small group of middle managers this very afternoon.
I buckled down immediately for work, which I found totally fun and challenging – a great combination that got my heart pumping almost as fast as it tended to do whenever Constantijin – shit, fuck, damn.
I'm not going to think about him, I'm not, I chanted to myself silently.
Determinedly refocusing on my presentation, I asked George, "Do you know how to import videos to Power Point?"
"Sorry, hun, not one clue," he answered right away.
Swallowing my pride, I asked, "Arian?"
She gave me a wide-eyed stare that I totally wasn't buying. "Not a clue either." Today, she was dressed in another come-hither outfit. You would think that guys would get used to her D-cups but no. As days passed by, George told me that Arian's fan club of lechers just seemed to grow and grow in number.
Her face was also perfectly made up, as always – the one thing that I secretly envied her for. I loved dressing up, but cosmetics? Not so much. Mascara, powder, and lip gloss was just about my limit while I had a feeling Arian even trimmed her nose hair. Whatever. Good for her.
At half past noon, I slipped out to buy an energy bar from the vendo machine, unaware that behind the tinted windows was a pair of golden eyes following my every movement.
The energy bar was yummy – but insufficient. I slid another note into the slit and punched the necessary button, but this time nothing come out.
"Oh, come on!" I couldn't afford any delays right now.
"Here, let me." Someone spoke from behind and a moment later, a dark haired guy was bending down slightly, rapping one fist on the side of the vendo machine.
The energy bar finally fell down and I grabbed it. Looking up, I was about to thank Mr. Fix-It for vendos but I ended up gasping instead. "You!"
He was just as surprised and then his lips formed a very pleased smile, one that had me blushing again. "You seem to make a habit of needing my help," he murmured.
It was the very same guy who had helped me out during the time I went shopping for work clothes. It was such a freaky coincidence that for more than a moment, I could only blink at him, wondering if he was Mr. Right.
Yes, yes, I knew I was totally jumping into conclusions – as far as Point A to Point Z in fact, but you see that was how it happened between my parents. Walter and Carole fell in love at first sight. They hadn't even spoken to each other. They had just looked into each other's eyes – and that was that.
Could this guy be the one for me?
Still smiling, the guy offered his hand and said, "I'm Drake Morrison, by the way." He seemed even taller and more handsome than I remembered, but with the same olive skin and light brown eyes.
"Yanna Everleigh," I returned shyly, shaking his hand. Upon releasing it, I said apologetically, "I have to go. I've got a presentation in three hours."
"Sure," he answered easily. "Break a leg."
"Thanks." When I turned around to walk away, I could feel his gaze following me. It made me extra clumsy and conscious, tripping on my own two feet as I reached the office I shared with George and Arian.
George raised a brow when I came in. "You look happy."
I quickly told him about Mr. Fix It.
"Oooh. A forbidden office romance is in the works then?"
His words made me think of Constantijin, and the memory was more than enough to wipe every good feeling I had about Drake. Deflated, I shook my head. "No," I sighed out. "Not for me." I might find Drake attractive but it was probably because his very obvious admiration of me was thrilling. But that was it. He didn't make me feel alive with just one glance and he certainly didn't make me hot, wet, and bothered all at the same time with a few words.