Broken (Manhattan Ruthless Book 1)
Chapter 25

“Oh my god, Ty!” I throw my hands over my face, feeling my cheeks heat at the memory. “I practically asked him to fuck me, and he just walked out and left me standing there.”

“He didn’t say anything at all? Not even goodbye?”

Groaning, I flop down at his breakfast bar and unpack the sandwiches I picked up for lunch. “He said we’ll talk later.”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “So, he didn’t just leave you hanging. He probably had some important billionaire business to attend to.”

“Pretty sure everyone waits for Nathan James. He could have at least …”

He flashes me a wicked grin. “At least what? From what you told me about what happened last night, he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to at least anything. If ya know what I mean.” He snickers. “I bet you won’t be able to walk after the first time you two finally fuck.”

I shake my head. “You’re such a frat boy.”

He tosses a grape at my head. “And you, baby girl, are blind.”

I fold my arms across my chest and scowl. “Am not.”

He steps around the kitchen island and slides his arm around my shoulder. “Are too. Even if we discount his whole take your hands off my wife routine, no guy eats your pussy that good if he’s not into you.”

I shrug him off. “What would you know about eating pussy?”

He tilts his head, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “I’ve been known to dabble occasionally. Besides, head is head. Nobody does it full gusto if they’re not into the person they’re giving it to. And from what you told me …” He whistles.

My cheeks flame hotter, but the memory of Nathan making me come so hard that I squirted all over him and his kitchen floor makes me clench my thighs together. I didn’t tell Tyler all the details, but I told him enough. “I’m sorry I told you that now.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter as he pours us each a glass of soda.

“What am I gonna do, Ty? I can’t just keep waiting for him to make a move. I need to take back a little control here.”

“So seduce him,” he says nonchalantly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“And how exactly do I do that? The man is an ice machine.”

Tyler laughs. “He wasn’t last night.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t argue. Nathan was straight fire last night.

Ty pulls my hair aside and drapes it over my shoulder, all trace of his previous amusement at my situation now gone from his expression. “He’s just a guy, baby girl. Cook him a steak, wear some sexy lingerie, and he’ll be putty in your hands.”

Taking a sip of my soda, I stare at him over the rim of my glass. I’m not entirely convinced that Nathan James is just like any other guy, but what have I got to lose?

I step out of the shower and reach for a towel when an ear-splitting alarm fills the room. I slam my hands over my ears. What in the bejeezus is that?

Oh crap, I smell smoke. Dinner!

I snatch my bathrobe off the vanity and wrap it around my wet body while hightailing it to the kitchen. Smoke billows out of the oven and the beeping grows more insistent. What in tarnation? I was only cooking potatoes. I grab the first thing I see, a dish towel, and pull open the door, coughing as smoke pours out. The smell of burnt cheese and cream makes me gag, but I swallow it down and pull out the tray.

Holy shit, that’s hot! I let go and the tray hits the floor, splattering molten cheese and potatoes in every direction. I suck on my burned thumb. Why did I think this was such a good idea? I couldn’t have just gone with a simple steak and fries. No, I had to get all fancy and try dauphinoise potatoes. Melted cheese drips down the glass door of the oven, and the marble floors are covered in a cream-and-cheese catastrophe. My hair dribbles water all over my face while smoke fills the kitchen, and the damn alarm threatens to make my eardrums bleed.

I look up at the source of the infernal noise and curse. It’s at least six feet above my head, and I have no clue how I’m going to turn it off.

“What the hell?” Nathan strides through the smoke and opens all the kitchen windows before pressing a button on the panel near the pantry. The god-awful beeping finally ceases, but my ears continue to ring.

Coughing, I wave a hand in front of my face. “I’m sorry. I was trying to make dauphinoise potatoes, but your deranged oven hates me.”

He eyes me suspiciously before glancing at the open oven door. An unidentifiable blob slides from the glass to the floor. “Maybe because you were using the electric grill and not the oven,” he says, his voice strained with what I can only assume is suppressed laughter.

I throw my hands in the air. “Well, there are six dozen settings, and they all look the same. How many functions does one appliance really need to perform? Can’t it just bake and roast like a regular oven?”

After grabbing an oven mitt from the drawer next to the stove, he picks up the tray of charred potatoes and scorched cheese and drops it into the trashcan, baking sheet and all. He turns and gives me his full attention, his lips twitching in a grin. “Cooking not really your strong suit, Mel?”

Pouting, I cross my arms over my chest. “Your fancy-ass oven doesn’t make it easy.”

He crosses the hazy room, although the smoke has started to clear, and rakes his gaze up and down my body. Thanks to my wet skin and dripping hair, the bathrobe clings to me, and he arches an eyebrow. “Were you making a special dinner?”

I clear my throat. “Kind of.”

He cocks his head. “What for?”

I swallow. I’m such an idiot. “I, uh, thought it would be nice.”

“And you were planning to dine in your bathrobe?” He’s no longer bothering to suppress his amusement. Jackass.

I manage to tamp down the urge to stomp my foot. “No. I got out of the shower and the smoke alarm started going off. Then there was some kind of cheese explosion and …” Embarrassed, I shake my head.

He presses his lips together and scans the room, surveying the carnage I’ve caused in his usually immaculate kitchen. My burned thumb throbs, and I suck it into my mouth again.

“Are you hurt?” His joking tone is replaced by concern, which only makes me feel like an even bigger idiot.

I hold out my thumb. “Just a tiny burn. I’m fine.”

He takes hold of my hand and leads me to the sink, turns on the cold tap and lets the water run for a few seconds before holding my hand beneath it. “This should soothe most of the sting.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

His brown eyes narrow. “When was the last time you let anyone take care of you?”

I blink at the unexpectedness of his question and answer honestly. “I can’t remember.”

He sucks on his top lip, his fingertips brushing over my palm as he continues holding my thumb under the soothing cold water. “Well, I appreciate the planning, even if the execution left something to be desired,” he says, his lips curving in a way that makes me smile too.

“Yeah. Should have just stuck to steak and fries.”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Now that is the way to my heart.” He winks. “Or was it my pants you were trying to get into?”

My cheeks burn, and his eyes roam over my face and down to my cleavage. “Jesus, fuck,” he mutters as he realizes his joke was spot-on.

I pull my robe tighter around myself, but it’s too late because I already feel exposed and vulnerable.

He turns off the tap and inspects my thumb. Water drips from my hand onto his suit jacket, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Feel any better?”

“A little, thank you,” I whisper.

He keeps his eyes fixed on mine as he lifts my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the dime-sized patch of pink skin. “How about now?”

Goosebumps break out along my forearms. “A little more,” I croak.

Sucking my thumb into his mouth, he swirls that expert tongue over the pad, and I feel the effects in every part of my body. My lips part on a gasp, and he gives my burn another gentle kiss. His eyes are filled with longing as they sear into mine. “And now?”

“Better,” I pant, my legs trembling.

He trails his free hand down the lapel of my bathrobe. “Are you naked under here, Mel?”

Molten heat fills my core. “Yeah. I just got out of the shower. I had a dress and some lingerie …” I babble, wanting to face-palm myself for admitting that.

“I prefer the bathrobe.”

“You do?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Actually, it’s what’s beneath it that I prefer.” He tugs on the tie around my waist, and my robe falls open.

He sucks air through his teeth, his hungry gaze traveling lower. “Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”

The fire heating my cheeks races down my neck and chest. I shift from one foot to the other, and he smirks at me. “You were planning to seduce me with food and sexy lingerie, but you blush when I tell you you’re beautiful?”

“I wasn’t planning to seduce you,” I protest.

His eyes twinkle. “No?”

“Well, no, I-I …”

He wraps his arms around my waist. “So what exactly were you hoping for, Melanie?” His breath dusts over my forehead.

I press my lips together.

“Tell me, corazón.” My breath hitches in my throat. One of my best friends in high school spoke Spanish, so I know the word means sweetheart in that context. I blink at him, wetness already slicking between my thighs. “What do you want me to do to you?”

I’m no wallflower. I’ve never had a problem asking guys for what I want, but Nathan James is intimidating, which is probably why he makes me feel more like a nervous teenager on a first date than a confident grown woman. Still, I take a deep breath and blurt, “I want you to fuck me.”

He immediately lifts me, wraps my legs around his hips, and carries me a few feet to drop me down on the kitchen island. With deft, eager hands, he peels off my robe and explores my torso, squeezing my breasts in his palms and tugging on my hardened nipples. Moaning, I arch into the pleasure.

He hisses out a breath. “Fucking beautiful.”

Threading my fingers in his hair, I pull his face to mine, but he dips his head and nuzzles my neck instead, biting and sucking while he spreads my thighs apart. And when his fingers slide through my wet center, I moan his name. The arrogant jackass laughs, and I hate myself for being so needy with him.

“I’m desperate to be inside you as much as you want me there, corazón,” he growls, and that knowledge makes me smile.

“Then please,” I whimper.

He dips one thick finger inside me, and my back bows with pleasure. “Jesus, you feel even better than I imagined you would.” He groans. “You’re soaked for me, little Spitfire.”

He peppers kisses along my jawline while he fucks me with his finger, drawing a series of moans from my body. When he adds a second digit, my back bends, and I dig my fingernails into his scalp.

“I had to fuck my hand twice last night after only tasting you. Once I bury my cock inside your tight little cunt, I’m going to be addicted. I’m going to fuck you every goddamn chance I get. I’m going to make you spill your cum on every surface of this penthouse. Are you ready for that?”

He twists his fingers inside me, and burning pleasure rockets through my core. “Y-yes!”

The animalistic sound he makes sends shivers of excitement and anticipation down my spine. Without warning, his fingers leave, but before I can protest, he leaps on top of me like a panther.

He pushes me down flat to the countertop and straddles me, making me gasp. Then he unfastens his belt and pants and frees his thick, incredibly impressive length. “I know I should take you to bed, but I can’t wait another second to be inside you.”

I pull him down on top of me, letting him know that the feeling is mutual. He climbs between my legs and nudges them apart before pressing the engorged head of his crown at my entrance. I hiss at the way it burns when he inches inside me and stretches me wide.

He stills his hips, his lips pressed against my ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just … you’re kind of big,” I admit, even though this man’s ego needs no inflating, but he doesn’t make any smug comments. Instead, he presses a kiss beneath my ear. “You can take all of me, corazón, but you just let me know when you’re ready. Because once I’m all the way in, I won’t be gentle.”

I cling to him, and he rests his forehead against mine, his breaths labored and his muscles vibrating as he waits for me. The guttural sound he makes when I shift my hips has me suppressing a smile. Arguably one of the most powerful men in the entire country is trembling with the effort of not fucking me. It makes me feel like I’m made of granite. “I’m ready.”

“Thank fuck,” he grunts, sinking deeper inside me. The burning gives way to intense shockwaves of pleasure.

I wrap my legs around his waist, but he pushes them back down and fixes me with his fiery gaze. “No, corazón, you keep those beautiful legs spread as wide as you can for me,” he commands in that low, distinctive growl that turns me to putty in his hands.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and nod while he pushes deeper. Euphoria races through my veins, and I let out a cry.

“You like that?” He pulls out and drives back in. “You like my cock filling your tight cunt?”

God, his filthy mouth has me purring like a kitten. “Uh-huh.”

He presses a kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to ruin you, corazón. Every time you move tomorrow, you’re going to feel me inside you.”

“Please!” I claw at his suit jacket and suck in deep breaths as Nathan fucks me into the countertop. He was right about not being gentle, but I don’t want that. I want this side of him. Raw and primal and unrestrained.

I look up at the ceiling and see us reflected in the polished chrome of the overhead light fixtures. Him in his suit and me sprawled naked beneath him, legs spread wide as he nails me into oblivion, and the sight alone is enough to make my thighs tremble.

Wetness slicks my thighs, and the sound of him driving in and out of me might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

Nathan’s lips are hot against my ear, his breath dancing over my skin every time he grunts and groans, only adding to the overwhelming sensations already swirling through me. “Such a good wife. You take my cock so well.”

“Holy crap.” My walls squeeze him, and my entire core feels like it floods with hot liquid pleasure.

“You think I can make you squirt for me again?” he asks with a throaty chuckle.

“I d-don’t …” I throw my head back, unable to finish the thought as my orgasm crashes over me, making every cell in my body melt into the countertop.

“That’s my girl,” Nathan grunts. He pins my wrists on either side of my head so he can rail into me even harder. Stars pepper my vision, and I can do nothing but lie here and take everything he gives me because I am completely obliterated. Boneless.

And when his hips still, he sinks his teeth into the base of my neck. I whimper his name and gasp for breath, my mind reeling with questions and emotions.

But one thought prevails—I want to be Nathan James’s wife for real.

Forever.