"Make Her Want It" Chapter One
“Edward! Edward! Keep…going. I’m cumming again. Shit! Harder, harder, Edward… just like that! Aaahhh! God damn,” Sonya screamed, pulling at his hair, her back slamming against the wall with her cocktail dress hastily pulled up around her waist, her legs securely astride his torso, eagerly welcoming the ruthless penile symphony his cock played against her cervix. “Harder!” She hung suspended, her hips singing Edward’s praises one sodden stroke at a time. “Ahhhh, Edward!”
Edward’s lips grazed the delicate heat of her neck just under her hair—the one spot he knew would bring Sonya to her knees. There, he gently bit, steadily increasing the pressure as she moaned. He knew how to get her off: semi-aggressive pain.
Sonya caught a breath and a glimpse of their mirrored reflection in a wall hanging across the room. The intensity of their lovemaking manifested itself in the strain in Edward’s calves, the tautness of his arms, and the rippling muscles beneath his pallid skin. Breathlessly, she watched the undulations of his rigid ass grinding between her chocolate thighs; in and out he drove, and with each stroke, she conceded to his authoritative demands, knowing only that her visceral yearning to be stretched into accommodating the pneumatic drilling of his girth was capable of igniting his incendiary lust.
“I love it when you fuck me like this.” She bit her lower lip.
His hand found its way around her slender throat, gripping it firmly, to which Sonya gasped and released a low groan of pleasure. “Do not cum again,” Edward ordered. His thick cock pummeled her with palpable precision.
Sonya wilted forward into his neck, inhaling his intoxicating cologne. “Oh God, I’m in heaven,” she whimpered softly. “Please, Edward. Please let me cum.”
“No!” Edward focused on her face, mentally caressing her—leaving her spellbound by his formidable blue eyes. “Not yet. Hold it just a little while longer.” He kissed her with languid motions—a stark contrast to the vaginal chaos he instigated below.
Sonya pulled away. “Edward, I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer. I’m cum—.” Her eyes rolled into her head, “Aahh, shit!” She tried to scream but found her banshee howls ensnared in her dry throat.
His strokes began to falter. “Damn, Sonya,” he crooned with a low grunt. “I’m cumming.” He gripped her ripe ass harder, throwing the orgasm-riddled remnants of her former self against the wall until his pelvic spasms slowed in the quiet of the room. Attempting to salvage what remained of their sanity, they held one another, kissing with the refined passion of lifelong lovers while the faint sounds of the orchestra and revelers’ merriment could be heard in the background.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Sonya said weakly.
“Not on your life.” Edward kissed the shallow of her neck.
“Do you think anyone saw us sneak off? Does anyone know about us?”
“Of course not. No one has any idea we are eve acquainted. Can you stand?” He placed her on her feet before walking to the executive bathroom to begin their wash, repair, and reintroduction ritual. “Come check my back for any scratch marks. You left marks last the time. I had a devil of a time explaining those to James. I think my excuse was something about badger-baiting…who knows.”
Tossing her hair back into place, she joined him in the bathroom, surveying him for injuries. “I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time, I promise.” She kissed him on the shoulder.
Edward looked at their reflection in the mirror. Sonya’s delicate frame was dwarfed. He could barely make out the top of her head peeking over the expanse of his shoulder. It was hard to believe that their ‘relationship’ had begun as a one-night stand two months earlier. Now, they were a couple in the untraditional sense, which suited these two alpha dogs perfectly. She was the bottom to his top. Consequently, what neither realized was that they had unwittingly become the other’s shadow.
“You look amazing tonight,” Edward remarked, watching Sonya twist her black layered chiffon cocktail dress into place. “Your dress is beautiful. Is that the one I sent?”
“Yes, it is. Of course I would wear it here. I can’t disappoint you, Edward, now can I?”
“Who is your date? He looks happy.” He ran a warm towel over his face.
“Drunk is more like it. He’s no one.” Sonya rolled her eyes. “I met him a few nights ago at a café and only invited him to the party because I didn’t want to show up alone. Who’s your date?”
“She’s a pawn. I believe she’s a princess or heiress somebody… who gives a shit? I’m chucking her on the pile of rejects as soon as the party is over. I only met her hours ago, and she has already tried to suck me off. She has the manners of a common whore,” Edward proclaimed bluntly, leaving Sonya to finish dressing in his office. “What ever happened to proper courtship? You know, the period right before everything goes shit-flavored and you dive into the unhappiest years of your life… or better yet, how about getting to know someone before trying to fuck them?”
Unable to resist the urge to see where this conversation was headed, Sonya said, “You mean the way our relationship began? With you insulting me, fucking my brains out, cumming in my ass, and then swiftly throwing me out of the house for hours—butt-naked, no less—and then capping off the day by making me an offer to be your submissive.”
Catching a quick look of himself in the mirror, Edward shot himself a wicked smile and thought to himself, How easily she trivializes our relationship. I’ll make her pay for that comment.
Keenly aware that she was studying his every move, Edward slowly unbuttoned his shirt and removed his cufflinks, allowing the crisp shirt to slide down his well-formed arms, exposing the taut frame beneath. Then, hanging the shirt neatly inside the closet, he closed its door and turned to her, his face devoid of emotion, and his cobalt eyes fixed on hers. Carefully removing his watch, he sauntered toward her. Sonya stood entranced.
“Exactly. No woman will ever compare to you,” Raising her left hand to the warm softness of his lips, Edward gently kissed her O-ring. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were perfect,” he crooned seductively, his heavy French accent trickling down her spine. Seeing Sonya’s eyes roll backwards, Edward cocked a creamy, composed smile, inquiring softly, “Did you cum again?”
“Oh God, yes,” she bashfully moaned.
“You must learn control, Sonya. I cannot have you cumming every time I touch you.” He returned to his closet after retrieving his shirt.
“You don’t have to touch me. I don’t know how you do it.”
Buttoning his shirt and running his fingers through his perfectly trimmed whiskey-blond hair, he asked, “What time should I expect you tonight?”
“Tonight? We’re both here with dates,” she reminded him, going into the bathroom to finish cleaning up.
“I don’t recall asking you about them. My question was, what time should I expect you? You still have not answered. Why do I have to repeat myself?”
Instinctively, Sonya knew that the subject was closed; he had their dates removed from the premises. “You don’t have to repeat yourself. I was simply wondering if I needed to call the idiot a cab. When did you have them thrown out of the party?”
“Right after we left. Did you think I would give you up for one night to that guy? He was not worth your time, much less mine.”
“What about your date? What happened to her?”
“James took care of her.” Edward’s brow wrinkled with a puzzled expression that spilled over into a slight grin.
“I really don’t know what he does with them once I have found them disagreeable. He doesn’t kill them, but… well, I just don’t know where they go. Funny. I will have to ask him one day.”
Sonya doubled over, laughing. Seeing her amusement, Edward joined in. “Oh my goodness, Edward. Where do these thoughts come from?”
“You laugh, but I literally have no idea where these women end up. It is not as if I will ever see them again, and I don’t.” He shrugged. “They could very well be dead, for all I know.”
“You’re a mad man, Edward Von Marks.” She collected her purse.
“It is a family trait. We are all twisted.” Edward swung on his tailor-cut tuxedo jacket. Sonya straightened his collar. Standing on her tippy-toes, she kissed his lips.
“How are we going to get out of here? I don’t want anyone to see us together, but I’m sure your bodyguards standing on the other side of the door have attracted the attention of any passersby,” Sonya pointed out impatiently.
On the surface, he ignored the frustration he saw staring back at him. “You’re aware that I can’t go anywhere without them, correct?”
Sonya placed her hand on his burly chest and sighed longingly. “I know, Your Royal Highness.”
Gently, he tilted her chin upward, meeting her eyes straight on. “Don’t get caught up in me.”
“I won’t,” she murmured honestly.
“Good.” He kissed her with a groan. “I will leave first. You can follow later. I have to say a few words, and then I’m going back to the penthouse. James has arranged a car, and your bodyguard will escort you. Do not keep me waiting. We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Mmmm…” she moaned.
“Nick, everything is fine. Go back to bed. We will talk in the morning,” Edward said in full stride, dismissing his bodyguards with a flick of the wrist. They closed the doors behind him, leaving him to the privacy of the penthouse. “There is nothing either of us can do. It’s two o’clock in the morning.” He paused while Nick continued to protest. “I will fire him right now if that’ll make you hang up the goddamned phone! Fine, I will do it now. Kiss Ali for me. Goodnight.” Edward hung up the phone and threw off his tuxedo coat.
James, Edward’s personal valet and omnipresence, caught the rendered garments in midair. “I will start your shower, Your Grace,” James offered. He called for a chamber valet and then passed Edward his personal BlackBerry with Chet’s line already ringing, “Here you are. Good evening, Your Grace.” James bowed and turned to leave. Edward raised his hand, stopping him in step. James sighed in defeat. There was nothing more the staff dreaded than Edward in a foul mood. Only Nick dared swim those choppy waters.
“Chet, this is Edward. Wake up, you fat fuck! You are fired. We’re pressing formal charges against you. My personal attorneys will be contacting you in the morning. You will make a full written disclosure of your practices, expunging EcoTech of any prior knowledge. And I warn you, if you go near the office ever again, I will have you shot on sight. If you go near Alyanna or belittle her in any way I will shoot you myself. Do you understand me? What did you think would happen once I found out?”
Chet stammered incoherently, unable to form a clear thought.
“You racist bastard. That was a rhetorical question. I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” Edward said bluntly. “Had your actions been leaked to the media, you would have singlehandedly ruined all of my family’s hard work and thrown us into a media shit-storm… and that is to say nothing of the families and careers you have damaged. If you want to play games with people’s lives, then I beg you to fuck with me. I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands.” He hung up the phone and tossed it back to James. “That was painless. Where’s Sonya?” Edward inquired calmly, as if two seconds earlier he hadn’t physically threatened a man’s earthly existence. He fanned away a groom offering to undress him.
“Her driver reports they are en route. She’ll be here within thirty minutes.”
“Thank you. Dismiss the staff for the rest of the night. I want everyone gone in ten minutes.” He walked into the bathroom, already completely nude. “Please ensure no one awakes me in the morning. I am not to be disturbed. If there are any calls or questions, direct them to Prince Nicolas. Don’t contact my father. He has enough on his plate… and have someone prepare tea and light breakfast.”
James scribbled Edward’s demands in his pocket planner. “What time shall I have breakfast delivered?”
“You will have to make a rough estimate. And…what else? I know I am forgetting something.” He thought for a moment. “I cannot remember. You’ll think of it for me. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sir.” James began clearing the servants and staff out of the penthouse. After many years in Edward's service, James was accustomed to the man’s temperament. He wasn’t rude by any means, but he was very pithy in his use of words, especially when dealing with unsavory characters like Chet Washington, who rightly deserved whatever tongue lashing he got for his unethical practice of promoting only Caucasians to high-level positions within his division; in stark contrast to Edward’s manner of conducting business. He was no longer the inquisitive blue-eyed youngster; he was a diligent politician whose meticulous forethought and commitment to the financial and social welfare of his country had him poised to enter posterity as one of the greatest Kings to rule Sarbania.
Unlike most Crown Princes, he hadn’t overindulged in the vices that came with his position. He fiercely guarded his reputation. His only vices were life-threatening recreation and, as of late, Sonya. James didn’t know what to make of their relationship. She wasn’t Edward’s girlfriend; however, she wasn’t like his other ‘lady friends’. Somehow, Sonya captured Edward’s interest; she engaged him on a cerebral level. For this, Sonya was just—exalted.
His sufficient other in all but name, Sonya was lavished with all the trappings of her lofty position. There was nothing too good for her: She had her own private security detail and staff to wait on her hand and foot, overseen by James himself, as well as a custom-tailored wardrobe that could easily surpass any royal, and personal transportation and lodging on stand-by. But, to her credit, Sonya asked for nothing—yet there it was, lying before her pampered feet. Edward would have given her the moon if she’d so much as looked at it twice.
Where Ali was seductively sweet, her sex appeal refined by her classical upbringing, Sonya smoldered. Her slender five-foot-seven frame didn’t lend itself to the typical Barbie-doll definition of beauty. No, her scandalously rich caramel curves were built for misuse; she had moves that put Shakira to shame. And with one flip of her chocolate brown hair, one sideways glance of her dark, sultry eyes, or one tiny curl of her full lips, Sonya could ignite a room. Yet there was something about her—a dangerous streak that captivated almost every man in her presence. James would often catch Edward scrutinizing the way others were drawn to her; it seemed to excite him.
Edward’s ability to wrap women around his finger was second nature, but with Sonya, the situation was different. Emotionally detached, intrepid, and a consummate thinker, she was, in short, Edward’s perfect match.
Under normal circumstances, Sonya wouldn’t have allowed anyone to order her about. She hadn’t risen to the top of her profession by being a pushover. However, in the confines of their bedroom, she unconditionally surrendered herself into Edward’s capable hands. He was a generous lover, and the sensual experience they created defied linguistic expression. It was what Sonya christened ‘Celestial Sex’.
Celestial Sex was the way their bodies hungered for one another, the way they became unapologetically immersed during lovemaking; the apparitional figures that appeared before her when he took her from behind; the clean, woodsy scent in the recess of his neck; his punishing thrusts that sent her head first into the ethereal netherworld of subspace.
Greater still, though, it was in the softness of his lips against hers as they held one another in post-orgasmic afterglow, validating the other with compassion and kindness. This is when she caught a glimpse of ‘Edward’ the man—when he lay reassuring her that that what they’d created was beautiful and that there was no permanent damage to themselves or their relationship.
He was indeed a generous lover.
Edward grasped the physical and metaphysical nuances of their relationship. The way he manipulated her entire being was indescribably primal. He understood that her submission didn’t equal subjugation. He recognized that by accepting her submission, he was granting her an inherent license to experience pleasure in acts that the normally dominant Sonya would demur.
However, in their bedroom, Edward ruled with corporal hegemony, and Sonya willingly acquiesced to him. She wanted nothing more than to see him taking pleasure in her actions or inaction. She felt no shame being on her knees before him, sucking his impossibly thick cock with the religious fervor of a medieval monk; she needed him to take charge and order her about. She craved it.
Clasping her handbag, Sonya stepped from the limo and kept pace with her bodyguard, passing the uniformed doorman and walking through the lobby of The Ritz-Carlton in all its grandeur. With Edward’s preeminent taste, she wasn’t surprised to hear he’d arranged to have the penthouse, which encompassed the entire floor, remodeled to fit his personal style. The classic Ritz standards of elegance—full parlors and vintage fixtures—were replaced with custom-made furnishings and a luxurious minimalist décor consisting of a classic neutral palette that played off rich exotic woods chosen to highlight the panoramic view of Central Park below.
“This way, madam,” the bodyguard offered. They stepped off the elevator, passing the first round of stone-faced security, then onto second round of detail. This time, however, her bodyguard muttered a few unintelligible words in French to the men standing post before they passed through a pair of imposing double doors into Edward’s private apartment.
“Good evening, Ms. Lewis. His Majesty is waiting. Right this way.” James led Sonya to Edward’s bedroom.
“Thank you, James. How is he tonight?”
“He was in a foul mood a while ago, but I believe that has passed. He has been asking for you. I told him the driver was running behind on account of the traffic. You should find him in better form now.” He knocked on the bedroom door. Not even James came into Edward’s presence before knocking and being acknowledged.
“Ms. Lewis is here, sir. Shall I show her in?”
“Yes, please. That will be all for this evening, James. You are dismissed,” Edward droned.
Sonya playfully elbowed James and hissed, “I thought you said he was in a better mood?”
“He was. I don’t know what happened. Better you than me. Have a good night.” He opened the door, ushered Sonya inside, and took his leave.
She found Edward lying across the bed flat on his stomach naked save a pair of black boxer briefs; his body as firm as a Greek God. “Edward, are you alright?” she asked, approaching him.
“I’m fine—just tired. The jetlag is setting in. Come here,” he said, pulling her onto the bed with him. “Rub my back. It is killing me.”
“Stay there. Let me get dressed for bed.” She went to the closet that James had arranged for her. “Where did James put my sleeping clothes?”
“Check the top shelf. I believe I saw them there. Hurry up. I’m dying in here.”
“Stop being a baby. I’m coming. Have you taken anything for the pain?”
“No. James did not bring me anything.”
“Get it yourself.”
“You cannot be serious. I wouldn't even know where to find them.”
She went to her purse. “Edward, I swear, you can be the biggest baby when it comes to doing stuff like this. Here. Sit up and take some of this Advil®, and I’ll get you some water.” She handed him the pills and went to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder on the way, “Really, Edward, you must get more rest.”
“It is entirely your fault.” Sitting up and resting against the high headboard, he asked, “What the hell are you wearing?”
“It’s one of your t-shirts. It’s obvious we’re not doing anything tonight with your condition.”
“I said my back hurt… not that I’m dead. Take it off and put on something else.”
“I will. Here… take a drink and turn over,” she said, handing him the glass. She dimmed the lights and returned to his side.
He swallowed the pills quickly and tossed the glass back into her hand. “There, all done. Now, take it off. I want to see you undress. And tonight, you are not allowed to cum until I give you permission. Understood?”
“No, you have to give me a chance to learn to control it first.” Removing his shirt, Sonya plopped backwards on the bed, pouting. “I can’t stop cold turkey. Hell, I almost came walking into the room just now. It’s not that easy.”
“I did not give you an option. You will wait until I tell you to cum. There is no debate. Come on, get up,” he prompted. “We will talk while you rub.”
“Edward, this isn’t fair. I was hoping you’d put me on all fours and fuck me off my knees.”
“Disobedience will be met with punishment.” He turned briefly grinning up at her. “But I imagine that excites you. You merely have to focus on something else, not sex and not me. Thinking about goldfish always seems to turn me off.”
Lugubriously, she sat atop Edward’s back, pondering the night of pure torture staring her in the face.
“Begin,” he ordered flatly. Sonya rubbed reluctantly. “Please leave.” He moved Sonya off of his back and stood.
“What?” Sonya sat back on her knees, her eyes registering confusion at his change in tone, and it unsettled her.
“Please go home. James will call the car. Leave,” he demanded, his voice utterly devoid of any feeling.
Shaken, Sonya moved to the edge of the bed; he backed away. “Edward, please don’t. We haven’t seen one another in two weeks. I need this. I want to—”
He couldn’t help but smirk as he cut her off. “You’ve insulted me. I gave you an order, and you refused to comply.” He loomed firmly in front of her, arms crossed.
The space between them grew heavy with anticipation. Her breathing quickened, and her heart pounded in her chest. She understood his intentions immediately: he wanted her in scene, and what Edward wants, Edward gets. No man held dominion over her like Edward; no man could manipulate her desires to mirror his own; no man commanded unwavering devotion with little more than gentle insistence. Only Edward understood her insatiable hunger to have her mind tenderly, unremittingly, ruthlessly, and inevitably fucked with by a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
Her eyes shifted away from his, downcast. “I’m sorry.”
“What was that?” He stepped closer.
“I’m sorry, Edward.” She hoped the expectation pooled in her eyes hadn’t betrayed her.
He took a long breath and lovingly raised her face, studying her carefully. She saw no malice, nevertheless she couldn’t shake the feeling that her potential orgasms hung precariously in the balance.
He gently nudged her to the bed. “Lie back,” he said as he tapped her legs sideways. Without debate, Sonya positioned herself in the center of the bed, defiantly crossing her legs at the ankle. Edward wasn’t impressed by her insolence. Briefly, he stood, inspecting her from her flawlessly pedicured feet to the rich chestnut brown hues of her mane. Taking her ankles, he slowly uncrossed them, aligning himself between her thighs before he moved atop her until their eyes met. “Stay very, very still,” he whispered, kissing her lightly between each word.
Entranced, Sonya lay, gazing straight into Edward’s arctic blue eyes, relinquishing all responsibility for her contentment. The backs of his fingers lightly caressed her forehead and then down her cheek and along her delicate jaw, and then he nudged her chin, lifting her head, deliberately dragging his exploring fingers across her throat, never once taking his eyes off hers.
As if he could read her mind, he traced a path along her collar bone and continued lower until it came to resting silently outside of her silken gates. She willed him to press ahead, but he would give her little more than a fingertip gliding up and down her perma-wet slit, methodically teasing her.
His finger plunged just into her lips. Sonya’s eyes widened, and her breaths came in short, sharp gasps punctuated with deep inhalations and sensual moans.
Edward smirked and raised an eyebrow, leisurely twiddling her lips.
Clearly shaken, Sonya’s desperate eyes begged him to spread her open and finger her until the room spun.
“You look so beautiful tonight.” He sucked his digit provocatively. “Then again, you’re always beautiful.” He hovered over her, dangerously close to her mouth.
Sonya was close to hyperventilating with excitement—eager for him to take her, use her, and make her feel whole again.
“Do you remember my last trip? We made love until sunrise.” He ran his finger up her slit and then placed his finger between his lips and tasted her again.
Sonya arched slightly, her nipples painfully hard. She watched him draw tiny circles around her areola. “Yes, I remember. Is that how you want me?”
Edward gave a sinister grin. “No.” He kissed her tenderly. “Make no mistake, Sonya. I’m fucking you tonight.”
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