Page 75 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Finally,” I say with a stern tone. “Christ, Mauve, how long does it take you to answer a simple call?”
Bellini looks between the two of us and then points at Paisley. “You called her up here?”
“Who else could I send out to the store to pick me up my essentials as well as press my warm-ups for me for tomorrow? But I’ve been calling her up here for hours now. What took you so damn long?”
“Oh that was me,” Bellini answers flippantly. “I had her color coordinate my wardrobe, shine my shoes, and tend to Pope Francis while I bathed for an hour. If I knew you were needing her assistance, I would have sent her sooner.” Bellini then turns to Paisley. “Mauve, it’s called multitasking. Try it. We celebrities don’t have time to wait for your scribbled-up body to make the rounds. If you’re going to keep this job, then you have to be efficient, not be some wandering Neanderthal, dragging your knuckles along the ground. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” Paisley bites out, obviously not happy.
“Good.” Turning back to me, Bellini taps my cheek with her hand and says, “Get a good night’s sleep, handsome. I’ll be thinking about you all night.” With zero regard for others, Bellini blows by Paisley, knocking her shoulder and not bothering to apologize.
Once out of sight, Paisley gives me the death glare, and I wonder if she’s actually going to step foot in my room. Instead of playing the doe-eyed guy who shies away from her anger, I egg her on, wanting her to take it out on me.
“Get in my room,” I say sternly.
“Excuse me?” One of her eyebrows shoots up in question.
“You heard me, get in my room and don’t make me say it again.”
Her posture wavers from retreating to joining me, and I just pray she chooses the latter. I’ve been waiting—quite impatiently—for her to arrive so I can get lost in her body.
With a stern look in her eyes, she stomps into my room. “You have some nerve.”
My door can’t shut fast enough. It swings quickly into place, causing the walls to rattle, and Paisley’s eyes to widen in shock. Before she can get out another word, I cup her face with one of my hands while the other pushes her against the wall of the entryway of my room. Her breath catches in her chest from surprise right before my lips capture hers with a greedy need.
Right when I’m settling in, tasting every inch of her mouth, she shoves me away, extending her arms between us but not putting much distance between our faces.
I glance down at the space she put between us, and then back up at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Her breathing is a little ragged and even though she is calling a timeout, I can still see the lust in her eyes. “Why are you acting like some alpha male plucked straight from a romance novel?”
“Acting like?” I give her a quizzical lift to my brow. “Baby, I’m a one-hundred-percent born and bred alpha male. It’s about time you accept that.”
Swiftly, I scoop her up in my arms and bring her over to my king-sized bed. I lay her down and don’t give her time to try to change her mind of going anywhere. With both my hands, I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly lift it over my head, giving her a show, knowing full well my sweats are resting very low on my hips. I toss my shirt to the side and look down at her.
Her lips are recently moistened, her eyes are glued to my chest, and she is taking me in with a devious glare to her eyes.
I place my knee between her legs and move over her body, pressing her into the mattress. Her hair fans out behind her, filling the bed with her black waves.
“I didn’t think I could wait any longer for you to show up tonight,” I admit, working my hand under her shirt until she’s forced to take it off. To my delight, she is wearing a red lace bra that pushes her breasts up to mouth-watering proportions. Her stomach is taut underneath my hand, flexing under my movements, wavering with nerves as I move south to undo her jean shorts.
“And why’s that?” she asks, her voice breathless.
Removing her shorts reveals a matching thong. I pull away and rub my jaw as I say, “Because I’m in desperate need to fuck you until the early morning light.” My fingers graze the waistband of the thong, loving the way her skin looks with the vibrant color. “Fuck, Paisley. You’re so damn sexy.”
A devastating grin crosses her face as she sits up and then stands in front of me. My hands instinctively fall to her ass where I caress her bare skin, loving the achingly beautiful curves of her petite body.
Grabbing my hands from behind her, she guides me over to a chair and forces me to sit. From the bed, she plays on my phone until music starts to play. A slow, seductive melody plays through the speakers. To amplify the sound, she places my phone in a cup so the music reverberates off the glass.
Her body sways back and forth while she gathers her hair and brings it over her shoulder. Leaning forward, she places both hands on my shoulders and straddles my waist, her breasts coming close to eye level.
I’m already hard as fuck so when her hips start grinding on me, I know she can feel my arousal. There is no question there. Methodically, so her nails scrape along my skin. She runs her hands to the back of my neck where she holds on tightly, moving slowly against my hips. My hands fall to her ass, loving the way her movements make my hands rise and fall on her skin, creating an erotic caress.
Even though she set her hair to one side, it doesn’t stay contained with the sway of her head. Instead, it tickles along my arm and rests over her shoulder, cascading down like a midnight waterfall. Not able to contain my eagerness, I release one hand from her ass and glide it up her back until I reach the clasp of her bra. With precision, I release the clasp, springing her bra open. She doesn’t even take a second to think about it, she slides the straps down until they are completely off her, revealing her full breasts.
“Christ,” I murmur, letting her bring them closer to my head where I take one into my mouth. I play with the barbell of her nipple while she writhes on my lap, still gripping to the back of my head. “You make me so fucking hard, Paisley.”
Like a wave in the ocean, her body moves against mine—grinding, thrusting—enticing me until I don’t think I can take it anymore. I try to take in her other nipple but she stops me and pulls away, leaving my lap aroused and ready.
