Control Me

  CONTROL ME

  Book 1 of the Control Series

  Shanora Williams

  Copyright © 2014 Shanora Williams

  All right reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Published December 2014

  Editing by Yours Truly, The Editor

  Cover Art and Design by RBA Designs

  Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Other Books By Shanora Williams

  FireNine Series

  *Who He Is (Book #1)

  Who We Are (Book #2)

  Who I Am (Book #3)

  Who I’m Becoming (Book #4)

  Hard to Resist Series

  *Hard to Resist (#1)

  Hard to Hold On (Hard to Resist Sequel) (#2)

  Hard to Forget (Hard to Resist Prequel) (0.5)

  * BEWARE – An Erotic Romantic Suspense Novel

  Dedication

  This entire series is dedicated to my Juan Carlos.

  Te amo mucho!

  ENRIQUE

  His tongue was first to take action, firm and swift as he crushed my lips and spread them apart to get a taste of me. He splayed his thick fingers on my hips and skimmed the palms of his hands downward, groping my ass just as the elevator expressed a high-note chime and the doors slid open. We stumbled backwards, my arms bolted around his neck, and my back bumped against the nearest wall. Without looking, he ran his finger down the side of the cart until he hit a button. The elevator chimed again, the doors started to close, and I smiled behind his lips before completely devouring them again.

  I figured he’d done this plenty of times before. Usually, things like this bothered me. But tonight… no. Not tonight. I was being careless.

  Reckless.

  Free.

  I was no longer abiding by my own rules because doing so always left me ripped wide-open one way or another.

  My back collided with the glossy cherry-red wall, and with his thick, masculine arms, he lifted me up, allowing me to bind my wobbly legs around him. He grasped my ass again, groaning as his lips traveled down to my neck. “You aren’t the good girl I thought you were, are you?” he questioned, voice raspy.

  His voice did something to me.

  It could’ve been the continuous drinks pumping through my veins that heightened my attraction towards this total stranger, or maybe I was just straight up attracted to him in every way—whatever it was, there was no denying the tingles I felt whenever he spoke. He was smooth. He always knew what to say and how to say it. Yeah, he’d definitely done this before.

  Forcing his head up, I meshed our lips together, and with a deep, guttural groan from my perfect stranger, he elevated my body up the smooth wall, pressing his arousal between my legs. My word, he was hard. And thick. So fucking thick. I should’ve been afraid, but I wanted this. I was leaking like a damn faucet since being introduced to this man at the party. Sad, I couldn’t remember his name or even what he did for a living, but I opted not to care. Caring was useless. It got me nowhere, especially with men.

  Taking my bottom lip between his teeth, he grinded his cock against my slit, and I sighed heavily, pressing the back of my head against the wall. He released my bottom lip, eyes fixed on mine. They were heavy. Intense. I wanted him to look at me with that same steely, brown gaze as he fucked me senseless tonight.

  Because it was going to happen.

  He was going to fuck me.

  The elevator doors finally shot open, and he dropped me instantly, turned, and grabbed my hand to lead the way out. We passed by a few people who looked at us with confused expressions. I fought my snickers and giggles, and he tried fighting his smile, but we both knew what those people were thinking. Probably things along the line of, “Were those two just fucking in the elevator?”

  Not yet, people. Not yet.

  Brown-Eyes released my hand to pull out a bundle of keys from his pocket. We met up to a solid black door with the number 70 on it. He stuffed a key in the lock, and the door was pushed open immediately.

  As he flipped a switch, a dim light flickered in the corner, and I couldn’t ignore the sight of the room. Although a hotel room, it was beautiful. And not only that, the view through his wall of glass windows made it completely breathtaking. We were in Florida—Key West to be exact. That part, I remembered, and the shimmering blue ocean ahead confirmed it. I didn’t remember the water being that blue from my hotel room, though. He had it good.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  An arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled my ass into his groin, burying his nose in the bend of my neck. It was an unfamiliar feeling—one I hadn’t felt in a long time—but I gave in, sighing. “Just as beautiful as you,” he murmured before kissing my shoulder. Pulling my hair to one side, he placed a few more damp kisses on my shoulder and my neck. My legs began to wobble again. I couldn’t keep this up. I was so out of it. I hadn’t felt this way in months.

  Brown-Eyes—what I decided to call him since I couldn’t remember his real name at the time—was my Enrique, and he was everything his name implied. He tucked his fingers beneath the straps of my dress, pulled them to the side, and just like that, my dress hit the floor. I stood in nothing but my strappy heels.

  Okay. I had to ask. “How many times have you done this before?”

  He walked around me, a subtle smirk on his lips as he lowered to his knees. “Plenty of times, Mya. Don’t fret.”

  Wow. He remembered my name. But why the hell couldn’t I remember his? It was odd, crazy maybe, but knowing that he remembered my name made it seem like I was doing something right. I mean, of course I was being the biggest slut ever-imaginable tonight, and of course any man would remember the shit I’d done to them while on the way to this very hotel if it meant pleasing him, but with him knowing my name, it felt like a reward. I was sure he didn’t remember many women’s names. I could see it all over his warm, tan face. I could see it in those dimples that he revealed quite a lot for me tonight. He said my name way too smoothly, which meant he’d wanted to say it repeatedly—all night long.

  Just as I became lost in my train of thought, something warm and wet touched my thighs, and I gasped. With wide eyes, I lowered my head, and he looked up at me, not daring to look away.

  Holy shit. What was he doing?

  Was he really about to—? No, no way. This had never happened to me before. There’s a first time for everything, the bad girl in me sang.

  It didn’t take very long for him to follow through with his actions. I started to speak, but he quietly shushed me, grabbed my hips, and brought my pussy towards his face. His tongue slid between my delicate folds, and at first, he took things nice and slow. I panted, unsure of what to do with my hands. As mentioned, this had never happened to me before. It was new.

  As if he read my thoughts, he pulled back a little and said, “Touch me. Anywhere. Let me know you’re enjoying it.” He spread my legs a little wider, his tongue circled my throbbing nub, and I cried out a littl
e, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Yeah,” he groaned into my walls. “Just like that.”

  Oh… goodness. It felt amazing. Him circling my clit, running his tongue back and forth, slipping inside me. It was almost like he couldn’t get enough. He ate me like a predator would eat its prey. So ravenously.

  So powerfully.

  So… deliciously.

  After a while, I got the hang of what to do with my hands. I threaded my fingers through his dark brown hair, tugging on it every once in a while in which he’d respond with a muffled, “Mmm… fuck yeah.”

  He hummed (yes, he fucking hummed!) low and deep, causing my walls to constrict. The vibrations of his throaty hum along with his finger inside set it off… set me off. I couldn’t last like this much longer. I thrust myself against his mouth, pulling his face in as close as possible. My hips seemed to work on their own, my voice saying words I never thought I’d say in a million years.

  “Shit,” I breathed, knocking my head back. “Sooo good.” It’s what I kept saying, in various tones of course, until I finally began to crumble, shattering. His finger slowed down, and he pulled his mouth away, only to run the pad of his thumb across my swollen nub.

  I shuddered, and a small smile crept to his lips as he moved back and stood slowly. Bringing my limp body into his, he picked me up and carried me towards the California king-sized bed. He placed me in front of the pillows then backed away, stripping out of his white dress shirt and tailored suit pants. When his pants hit the floor, I couldn’t ignore the thick line in his boxers.

  Oh, yeah. He was ready.

  But the question was, was I ready? I mean, yeah I was here. I’d done things to him—things I’d never be able to take back—but was I ready for the real deal? I knew nothing about this guy, nothing about where he came from or what he did for a living. I’m sure he told me what it was he did, but it was my choice not to remember or care.

  And, now, here we were.

  Here he was, ready to take me on.

  As he climbed on the bed, I began to panic. The mattress sank beneath his weight as he got closer. He was on his knees, his cock pointed directly in my face. Placing his large hand on the back of my head, he slowly brought my mouth towards his manhood. I didn’t hesitate on taking him into my mouth because I felt like I owed him this after the way he made me come only seconds ago.

  Knocking his head back, he forced himself further into my mouth, causing an odd gagging noise to sputter out of me. I’d never gagged around a man before. Not ever. Finally releasing the hold behind my head, he told me, “Suck me like you told me you would.”

  I couldn’t remember telling him I would at all, but I did the best I could to not make a strange expression. Instead, I took his hot member into my hand, leaned forward, and licked the tip.

  He smiled down at me.

  I started to look away, but he reached down and tilted my chin, shaking his head. “Eyes on me,” he murmured. “Only me, Mya.”

  I trained my eyes on him, bringing half of his length into my mouth. His tongue slid across his lips, and his dick pulsed in my hands. I massaged his balls with my free hand, but I couldn’t figure out how he could go this long without wanting to have sex already. Don’t get me wrong, nothing was wrong with a little foreplay, but any ordinary man would’ve resorted to straight sex. You know, cut to the chase? Right now, he was being patient… a little too patient.

  Something told me he wasn’t ordinary, though. And honestly, if he was, I was sure I wouldn’t have been in that hotel with him. Some part of him got me to like him… trust him a little. I wasn’t sure what he’d said to me—hell, I couldn’t even remember him asking me to leave the party. I couldn’t remember jack shit. And that was bad, but it was what I wanted.

  It’s what I had planned.

  Before I could finish him off, he gently forced me back. I lay on my back with my legs spread apart, looking at him through my eyelashes. Without a moment to waste, he slid a condom on, leaned forward, and wrapped my legs around him. I stared up into his chocolate eyes, wanting this more than ever but internally afraid of how this was going to turn out in the morning.

  I knew in the morning, once I was sober, I’d be ashamed of myself. I wouldn’t look at myself for days because of the things I did with this stranger, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care. I had to stop burning myself. I had to stop punishing myself over stupid things. I had to live one way or another, and if this was the start of it all, then so be it. I was going to live the fuck out of this night with my so-called Enrique.

  MEN’S ROOM

  “Mya, damn it, hurry the hell up!” Claire shouted, motioning at me with her hand.

  Tucking my folders and papers beneath my arm, I hurried in her direction with a slight frown. “Please, Claire. Stop rushing me,” I groaned.

  Her eyebrows knitted, and she brought a hand to her hip. “Sweetie, I don’t mean to rain on your shitty Monday parade, but we have exactly seven minutes to make it up to floor thirty-eight or we’ll probably be shit out of jobs. This is the third time this month!”

  I met at her side, avoiding her eyes.

  “God, you look horrible,” she muttered, clomping ahead of me and pulling open the glass door.

  I ignored her, stepping inside and walking as fast as I could to the elevator.

  “I’ve never met a woman that gets drunk on Sunday nights. I mean, Wednesdays and Thursdays, I can understand. Even Tuesdays! But Sunday?” She shook her head, tossing her platinum hair over the shoulder of her silver blouse. “Monday is, like, the worst day of the week to have a hangover. And you know we’re supposed to be meeting with the people from Montero’s today, right? Mr. Green is gonna be pissed if he sees you looking like this. He’s been bugging us about it for a solid week.” I couldn’t believe this. She was going on and on about this damn job when my head was about to pop. The aspirin didn’t help, or the Pepto Bismol I downed to ease my stomach, but her nagging damn sure wasn’t helping me either.

  “Claire, just shut the hell up! Please!” I begged as she pressed the elevator button. She quickly turned in my direction and deliberately blinked her vibrant green eyes four times.

  Shit.

  Sensitive Claire.

  Ever since I’d met her in college, she’d been the exact same way. A nagger, a whiner, and a perfectionist. But worst of it all was her sensitivity. She took everything to heart, and I mean everything. One day, I told her I didn’t want to watch Pretty Woman with her again because we’d seen it over a dozen times, and she sulked the entire night. I had to apologize and pop the movie in just to get her to cheer up again.

  The elevator doors shot open quickly, sparing us from an awkward stare down. I was hung-over, so of course it was my fault, not hers, but I didn’t need her bashing me about it. We stepped into the elevator silently, and one other person jumped on board before the doors sealed.

  Clearing her throat softly, she pressed her lips and tucked her folders under her chin and against her chest, staring up at the neon numbers. The other person got off on the seventh floor, and we headed up again. The silence was killing me—actually, the silence was golden, but the fact that she was so quiet proved she wasn’t going to speak to me until she was ready, or until she found something to talk about that she had to share with me immediately.

  I knew if I wanted this day to end well, I needed my best friend to lean on. “Claire… I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  She glanced in my direction, tucking a lock of straight hair behind her hair. After pursing her lips she said, “S’okay… I guess.”

  “I just— it was a rough one last night. This shit with Terry is really getting to me.”

  “Oh… Mya.” Her soft voice caused tears to burn my eyes. Unwanted tears. God, I hated them. They always came at the wrong time. Taking a few steps forward, she lifted my chin and swiped the stray tear away. “I understand how you feel,” she said, “but drinking yourself into oblivion won’t solve anything.”

  “I kn
ow,” I admitted.

  “So, why do it?” she questioned, puckering a brow.

  “I don’t know,” I whined with a shrug. “It just… helps a little.”

  She sighed, putting one of my loose curls back in place. “Once this shit is done with those Montero people, we’re going out. A club, a lounge… it doesn’t matter. We’re going out for fun. And we can invite the girls on the twelfth floor. They were so much fun that one time, remember?”

  I nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, they were pretty fun.”

  Her cheek lifted and a small smile formed on her lips. “Everything will be okay, Mya. Let’s just get through this week.”

  I nodded in agreement, swiping the wetness from under my eyes with my finger and then straightening my back. The elevator chimed moments later, the silver doors spread apart, and Claire turned forward. “Let’s get this day over with, shall we?”

  I followed her down the hallway, passing by the walls made of mirrors, embroidered with gold and black. Our heels clicked along the sleek marble floors, and along the way, I popped another aspirin. When we reached the front desk, we gave our greetings to Jessica, the secretary, and she glanced at us over her thin glasses, pressing her lips. “Late,” she muttered. “Luckily for you, Green isn’t here yet.”

  “Oh, great!” Claire said over her shoulder, her voice laced with sarcasm. When we got far enough, she muttered, “Rusty, miserable bitch. I’m telling you, she’s jealous of us. You know she told me one time that Mr. Green only hired us to stare at our legs?” She scoffed, pressing against the glass door and entering the conference room. “I mean, who says that anyway? It would’ve sounded better if she said he was staring at our asses instead.”

  I laughed, and then winced. Ugh. This hangover needed to disappear already. “I’ll set up the papers. You grab the food,” I said, pulling my folders from beneath my arm and placing them on the table. Claire trotted away, pulling open a solid brown door and grabbing the prepared tray. I hurried with the papers, relieved that Green was actually late today. He’d harassed us about being on time this morning and already he was five minutes late. Five minutes late for him was rare. I figured he was nervous… or maybe he’d been hiding away in his office before Jessica arrived. Who knew?