Hearts of Glass (The Glass Trilogy Book 3) (12 page)

I skulked back to the bed and lay beside him, pouting, still fixated on his comment about my imagining his proposal. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and drew me in close. I could smell him . . . the full-on Daniel Glass aroma, no longer tinged with the odor of the hospital. I inhaled him deeply and it calmed me despite my hurt.

He brought his lips to my ear. “Thinking about your wet, tight pussy has me constantly hard. All I can concentrate on, twenty-four seven, is being deep inside you, fucking you, making you come, and fucking you again.”

I wanted more than just sex. I wanted the whole package—and not just the package below his waist. “Daniel, the doctors—”

“Fuck the doctors, I need you, Janie. Look, feel this, feel how hard I still am. You do this. Just being in the same room as you has been driving me insane.” He took my hand and placed it once more on his pajama bottoms, where his erection was still thick and eager. I gasped but this time he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He began to undo the ties to his pants and guided my hand under the fabric. My gaze wandered to his chiseled six-pack, which had become even more defined while he was bedridden. He took my thumb and lay it on the tip of his wide, lubricated crest. It was throbbing, moving of its own accord. I felt familiar liquid heat between my thighs.

“Today is the day I’m going to fuck you,” he said, his voice gruff. “No more procrastinating, Janie.”

“But Daniel, I’m not ready—”

“You will be, believe me. In a few minutes you’ll be lying on your back, legs akimbo, begging me. All those silly excuses about doctor’s orders will be out the window, guaranteed.”

“They’re not excuses . . .” I trailed off, not sure what to say next.

“I know what the real issue is,” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead and fumbling in his pajama pocket for what I assumed was a condom.

“What?” Maybe it was true. Maybe the doctor thing was a way of protecting myself from getting hurt. After all the shit I’d been through in the last week: Daniel’s coma, being abducted and locked up by Kristin, the animals in the lab, ending up in hospital myself, ill yet again . . . I was more vulnerable than ever, edgy and fearful. I needed to guard myself emotionally.

“Bring your fingers down here,” he said, bringing my attention back to his body, guiding my hands under his, between the space of his massive penis and his abdomen. “Do you feel it?”

I giggled uneasily. “How could I not? It’s ginormous!”

“Maybe you’ll realize, Janie, that what comes attached is something romantic and forever binding, not just sexual.”

I was flummoxed, but then I understood what he was talking about. My fingertips felt something hard lodged at the base . . . I stuck my finger through a metal hole . . . a ring?

“A ring?” I asked.

“Not just any ring, baby. Put it on your engagement finger.”

I drew my hand out, and with my other hand slipped the jeweled ring onto the fourth finger on my left hand.

He had planned this! My faith in Daniel instantly renewed, my heart beat a million miles an hour. “How did you know the size of my finger? When did you have time to buy this?”

“I bought the ring that very morning. Before the accident. Before your brother Will sent me flying. I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I know I should have asked you days ago, but I was worried you might say no, and I’ve been so blissful with you all week, I didn’t want to cut my happiness short.”

I looked at my hand, but tears were blurring my vision.
As if I would have said no, the silly man
! Didn’t he
get
it? Didn’t he
know
by now, with every single cell in his body, how deliriously in love I was with him? This was my dream, my fantasy—well, not with Daniel’s huge great erection in the marriage proposal mix—that I hadn’t envisioned—but this was everything I wanted. To be Daniel Glass’s wife and for the whole world to know. He’d bought the ring before his accident! He had wanted to marry me
all along
!

He said, “Not the most conventional place to find your engagement ring, but I wanted to surprise you, and I got the feeling you were running out of patience. I’m going to get down on my knees now, to prove to you I mean it. Down on my knees, and down on you.”

I laughed at his joke as he got off the bed and pushed my legs apart, pulling them down so my butt was on the edge of the mattress, my knees dangling over. He shoved his head into the apex of my thighs.

He wasn’t kidding. Talk about taking me by surprise. This sex-craving maniac was a true romantic, after all. He’d had me fooled, though.

“You want it, Janie, don’t deny it . . . your pussy’s glistening like that diamond on your hand.” He swept his tongue along my cleft, resting it on my tingling clit. “Will . . . ”

He continued his sweet journey, down to my wet opening. “You . . . ”

Then he plunged his tongue inside me and I remembered how much I loved being penetrated by him. “Marry . . . ”

I whimpered with pleasure. So many sensations coursed through me: happiness, peace, arousal, relief that he wanted me to be his wife . . . I looked at the ring, blindingly sparkly, a massive, oval diamond cut so finely it reflected prisms of light around the room and on the ceiling.

“Me.” Daniel punctuated the last word of his proposal with another sweep of his tongue, coaxing out a little cry of pleasure from me.

But my eyes were so focused on my engagement ring, I didn’t reply.

“Well?” he said in a hoarse voice, giving my open thighs a squeeze with his hands, and looking up at me.

“This is the most outrageous and unorthodox proposal in the history of all marriage proposals,” I gasped, everything south of my waist on fire. I didn’t want to sound haughty but hey, all my life I’d dreamed about a more conventional proposal. Everything had happened so fast and unexpectedly. I guessed this was Daniel’s plan; to take me off guard and surprise the hell out of me.

“And?”

“You basically asked my pussy to marry you. I want you to say it to my face.” Why I was putting him through this torture I wasn’t sure, but the words just tumbled out of my mouth.

Daniel stood up and took me by the shoulders, tilting me up so I was in a sitting position, holding me firmly with his strong warm hands. His pajama pants had slid off his hips, revealing that perfect V, and an erection as large and vertically spired as the Washington Monument. He bent down to my level, his lips inches from mine. His breath danced into my parted mouth as I waited for his kiss. He paused, looked intently into my eyes, his gaze serious and fixed. The intense, no-nonsense Daniel Glass that I had fallen in love with when he was my director, bossing me around, telling me what to do.

“Marry me, Janie Cole. Be my wife.”

“Is that a question or a command?” I teased.

“It’s a command, and by God you’d better obey.” I detected a tiny smirk as the corners of his mouth lifted sardonically, before he pressed his lips on mine and drew a kiss from me. I was still dumbfounded—a proposal was the last thing I expected this morning.

But then he pulled his head back and murmured into my mouth, “Answer me, goddamn it, Janie, I’m not fooling around here.”

“Y-Yes,” I stuttered. “I’ll . . . I’ll marry you.”

“You’re sure?” His warm breath came fast.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“You’ll be unequivocally mine?”

“Totally, utterly, and completely.”

He narrowed his eyes but looked pleased with my answer. “I fucking love you,” he said, cupping a hand behind my head, bringing me closer to ensure our lips were touching. I heard a low rasp of pleasure from his throat, letting me know his approval. I let my hands wander down the sides of his muscular body and over his slim hips, one hand gently brushing across his massive, yet silky-soft cock that I was now more than ready for. He was right; I couldn’t wait. There was something savagely beautiful about that, knowing how his huge tool could hurt me if he wasn’t gentle, yet longing for exactly that; to be ripped open and mercilessly fucked. The whole center of my body was aching for him, pounding with longing, the wetness between my legs evidence of my arousal. A marriage proposal can do that to a girl.

The package was now complete. In every respect.

Inhaling deep through my nose to prepare myself for the kiss of all kisses, I parted my mouth again, letting out a soft mewl as I did so, welcoming Daniel’s deft tongue, which he licked seductively along my bottom lip. I moaned with anticipation at the idea of being claimed. Finally, after a week of slow torture for both of us.

I brushed the tip of my tongue lightly against his, and a spasm of hot desire shot directly at my clit like an arrow—just that alone did it, just the tip of his tongue had me melting. My nipples were pebbled, also aching for attention. Every nerve on my body wanted Daniel, and by the sounds of his groans, he hungered for me just as badly. Our tongues then began their dance, clashing together, licking, sucking, plunging, Daniel holding my head in place as if I were a breakable object that he couldn’t let go of, his fingers sliding into my hair, caressing my scalp, his guttural groans filling my greedy mouth.

Suddenly, he let go, pulled me up, and lifted me into a standing position. He went down on his knees. I knew what he wanted: for my crotch to be at his eye level—or rather, mouth level.

“No, Daniel, it’s my turn. Stand up.” I dropped to my knees, his erection resting hard against his navel, his “happy trail”—that fine, soft hair a feast for my eyes. I never tired of observing Daniel. Naked or clothed, he was a specimen of genuine beauty. He wasn’t aware of it, though, and didn’t even care, had more important things to ponder over than himself. That’s what made him even more attractive; there was no arrogance on his part concerning his looks—he wore his beauty with such incidental ease. Like his vintage Patek Phillippe watch—passed down to him from previous generations, wickedly expensive and exclusive, yet something he possessed with nonchalance. A birthright he didn’t even acknowledge . . . I guessed that sort of casual entitlement held its own brand of arrogance.

He stood up. I grabbed his lean, muscular thighs, my hands were claws as I gripped him tight. His cock was flexing with anticipation.

“Oh fuck, Janie, you’ll be the undoing of me.”

I wanted him to come in my mouth for a multitude of reasons, mainly to unblock that fear which had been holding me hostage all week: that Daniel would fall back into a coma if I gave him oral sex. But I also knew that he’d been suffering from a case of blue-balls and that he’d need to come several times before feeling sated. Daniel could go for many rounds at the best of times, but now his cock was burning up, the biggest and thickest I’d ever seen it. If I hadn’t been so in love with him, I would have found it intimidating.

I gripped his throbbing rod in my grasp, squeezing it at the root, but because of his six foot three frame, I was too low for him to get my mouth around his crest from above. So I darted out my tongue, flicking it at the underside of his balls, sweeping my tongue up and down and around.

“Ah . . . Janie . . .”

I said nothing but filled my mouth with one whole ball, sucking on it gently as my hand rose and fell along his thick girth of his cock.

“Fuck, you’re sexy, this is incredible,” he groaned.

I took the other testicle and gave it the same attention, as he flexed his hips back and forth. I knew Daniel . . . as much as he loved this, he wanted to fuck me.
Not so fast.
I hadn’t reached my goal yet: to rid myself of my coma paranoia. I got up on my feet and carried on with my mission, guiding his huge length into my mouth, the veins pulsing against my tongue as I licked him up and down in preparation. I wouldn’t be able to take all of him in, but I knew I could make him come like a rocket being launched to the moon.

I flicked my gaze up sideways and saw his eyes squeeze shut in concentration and pleasure. “Janie, baby, you always drive me wild with this.”

I swirled my tongue around the smooth head of his crown, aware for the first time that this piece of his anatomy—hell, all of it—now belonged to me. I was going to be his wife! If any starlets came near him, I’d have the moral right to fight them off. Daniel Glass was
mine
! My mouth pushed down onto his shaft and I suctioned him in, hollowing my cheeks, my head bobbing up and down as he moaned my name.

“Baby, if you keep this up I’m going to come.”

“That’s the idea,” I mumbled, cock in mouth. I didn’t let up, my rhythm getting faster and faster as I pumped him. In one final plunge that I knew would do it, I let his erection jam the back of my throat and almost gagged as a hot burst of semen showered into my welcoming mouth.

“I’m coming so hard, baby. Fuck this is intense.” His fingers gripped wildly at my hair, pulling it slightly as his orgasm pulsed through him, his cock thickening by the second. I was totally turned on by the power I had to make him so weak with ecstasy. His guttural moans and hooded eyes told me how far gone he was. A woman likes a man to be strong at all times but ironically wishes to have the power to make him weak. This one split-second moment: to have her man at her mercy. Vulnerable. For him to
surrender
to her.

But—as if Daniel had read my Cleopatra mind—he tilted my head back and pulled my mouth off him. “As much as I loved that,” he growled between his teeth, “I have to fuck you. Right now.”

Weak? Ha! Not Daniel Glass. His erection was still a mighty sword, ready to conquer me. The only thing my blowjob had done was whet his appetite.

And “wet” mine.

He wanted to be in control again.

“Get on the bed and open your legs,” he commanded. “I have a surprise for you.”

Another surprise
? I did as I was told.

He was my director, after all.

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