Wall Street Titan (Wall Street Titan #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,66

first editions—like the one you’re looking at—are just part of my collection. As I started to tell you on our first date, I like books too, both reading and collecting them.”

Huh. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. It’s always been my dream to have a shelf full of my favorite authors’ signed copies. “Is that where you got the first editions you sent me? From your collection?”

He smiles. “Indeed. I’m glad I happened to have your favorites.”

I take in a deep breath. “Right. Thank you for that. Unfortunately, I can’t—”

“Here, let me show you the rest of the place.” Deftly, he shepherds me out of the library and into a guest room bigger than my entire studio. His home office, with five computer monitors and three TVs mounted on the walls, follows, and then we finally step into the master bedroom.

Instantly, my heartbeat picks up speed, my skin prickling with increased awareness of the man beside me. During the tour, I was so overwhelmed by the opulence around me that I almost forgot why I’m here. But now it’s all I can think about, my mind flashing to the heated look in Marcus’s eyes when he held my hands and asked me to come home with him.

His thoughts must be traveling along the same pathways because his steely fingers loop around my wrist, and when I look up, I find his gaze filled with dark, primal intent. “Emma…” His voice is low and rough as he pulls me to him. “Kitten, I want you.”

And as my insides clench on an answering surge of need, his lips crash against mine in a deep, voracious kiss.

35

Emma

I wake up slowly and with great reluctance, not wanting to leave the luxuriant warmth of the blanket and the silky softness of the sheets. My limbs feel heavy as I stretch, and my inner thighs are oddly sore, as if I’d done some hardcore yoga. Even my skin is strangely tender, especially in the more intimate—

Oh God. I sit up and look around the unfamiliar bedroom, a burst of adrenaline chasing away the grogginess as I realize where I am and why I’m feeling like this.

I’m in Marcus’s bedroom, and he fucked me all night long.

Okay, maybe that last bit is an exaggeration, but that’s what it felt like. The man was insatiable, taking me over and over, as if we hadn’t had sex just a couple of hours earlier. I’ve lost count of how many times I’d orgasmed last night. Seven, eight… nine, maybe?

No wonder my sex feels like it’s been scraped raw with male whiskers.

Because it has been.

My skin heats at the memory, and I pull up the blanket, realizing I’m sitting there totally naked. Thankfully, I’m alone. Gripping the blanket, I look around for my clothes. I don’t see them anywhere, but there is a fluffy pink robe, much like the one I have at home, hanging on the door—and matching fuzzy slippers next to the bed.

I hesitate for a moment, then slide my feet into the slippers and beeline for the robe.

I hate the idea of wearing the same thing as Marcus’s other hook-ups, but it’s better than prancing around naked.

To my surprise, the robe has a tag attached.

Did he get it just for me, or does he keep a stash for these types of situations?

Either way, I gratefully rip off the tag and put on the robe, wrapping the tie around my waist. Unlike mine, it’s long, all the way down to my ankles, and I instantly feel warm and cozy, as if I’m at home cuddling with my cats.

Speaking of which, I have to get back to them soon. They’re not used to me being out all night, and I’m sure Mr. Puffs is already on a path of destruction. Plus, if I don’t do laundry today, I’ll have no underwear for tomorrow.

Marcus is still nowhere to be seen, so I hurry into the adjoining bathroom and take a quick shower, then brush my teeth with a toothbrush I find considerately laid out by the sink, still in its plastic wrapper. There’s also a nice, expensive face moisturizer—unscented, just like I prefer—and even a bottle of hair gel that I use to tame the worst of the frizzy explosion on my head.

My host is really acing this whole “having a female guest” thing.

As I do all this, I try not to gape at my surroundings like a peasant. So what if the square whirlpool tub in the