Iron Princess (Iron Palace Book 2) Read online

  Kellan always introduces me. He says, “This is Claire, my girlfriend.”

  I love hearing that.

  By the time we’re back home at Kellan’s, we’re both exhausted. It’s been an eventful four days. We take a leisurely shower together, slowly, gently, but thoroughly washing each other. Kellan has a huge erection the entire time.

  Once we’re clean and dry, we collapse in bed. I adore his big, white, fluffy bed. It’s a mess of pillows and down comforters. My bed is orderly, with a smooth fitted sheet and matching top sheet and a nice fleece blanket on top of that. Kellan simply has three down comforters and seven or eight pillows.

  I like his bed better.

  Especially when he’s in it with me.

  And when we’re so, so naked, like we are now.

  Kellan starts kissing my stomach. It sends rivers of chills through my entire body.

  His mouth closes over one of my nipples. I scarcely have time to moan when he’s shifted himself deftly between my legs. He’s a big man, very big; six-foot-four and 260 pounds; but he’s surprisingly nimble and agile. And gentle.

  So gentle that the next thing I know, he’s sliding inside me very, very slowly.

  It takes my breath away.

  He’s a big man in every way.

  Somehow, I’m able to accommodate him.

  This is the first time we’re making love in his bed.

  I wrap my legs around his waist and reach down with my hands and grab his firm butt. I pull him deeper into me, squeezing and pulling on his perfect, taut, round muscular butt as hard as I can.

  Kellan moans and gasps, “God, I love it when you do that.”

  A few minutes later, to my surprise and delight, he erupts deep inside me.

  Like at the hotel, I feel him coming. I feel him so thick and hard, flexing and pulsing inside me, then his semen shooting into me so warm.

  I come, too.

  I never know if it’s going to happen in five minutes or three hours. I love it all the same.

  Kellan lays on top of me, supporting himself on his elbows and forearms, still inside me. I feel him flexing it, pumping every last drop into me.

  I love it. I want him to stay inside me. I want us to sleep like this. “Next time we make love, let’s do it in a position where we can both fall asleep with you still inside me. Okay?”

  “I would love that. Imagine if we fell asleep like that and we woke up six or seven hours later and it was morning and we hadn’t moved and I was still inside you. How hot would that be?”

  I get butterflies just thinking about it.

  Chapter 3

  MORNING COMES.

  As usual, Kellan is awake before I am, but he hasn’t gotten out of bed, had coffee, answered email, done an hour of fasted cardio, showered and dressed, answered more email, trained three clients on Skype, cooked breakfast, and prepared a mug of hot coffee for me to help me wake up.

  Which is what he normally manages to accomplish before I’m even conscious.

  We lie in bed together, sleepy and still only half-awake. It truly feels as though we are a couple.

  It’s kind of astounding. Wonderful, but astounding.

  I move closer and kiss his chest. “What should we do today?”

  “Well, I was going to get up and do some morning cardio. Would you care to join me?”

  “Okay.”

  I love working out with Kellan. Morning, noon, midnight, here, at the Palace, fasted, fed, cardio, weights, or whatever. It’s so much fun training with him. My very own personal trainer.

  With whom I get to have hot, buck-nekkid sex afterward.

  “Then breakfast,” Kellan continues. “Then I have some work to catch up on that I’ve been neglecting a bit. What’s your schedule?”

  “I’m off today. Working tomorrow and Friday. Then I’m not sure. I need to check the new schedule at work.”

  “About that, I have an event this weekend. It’s an annual charity thing I do down at Sears Point, and I would love it if you came with me.”

  “What’s Sears Point?” I envision us going shopping.

  “It’s a race track. I charter a bus and go down to the Sacramento Children’s Receiving Home and we load up all the kids and drive to Sears Point for a track day.”

  “What’s a track day?”

  “A track day is when you pay about 100 bucks to drive your car around a professional race track for fun. There’s a couple of Lamborghini owners clubs who participate and a bunch of other children’s homes. Last year we had about 300 kids and 80 cars. This year is supposed to have about 500 kids and 120 cars. We have lunch and a quick seminar about getting a good education and starting their own businesses, how to be entrepreneurs, how to save money instead of just spend it, how to eat right and be healthy, how to get good grades and stay off drugs, stuff like that. Then we put the kids in the Lambos one at a time and whip ’em around the race track all day and they love it. So do I. It’s a lot of fun. I’d love it if you could come.”

  My heart positively swells. Is this man for real? He gorgeous, kind, wealthy, and a humanitarian who cares for orphans?

  I’m so touched that it makes me love him even more.

  It also makes me want him even more.

  I climb on top of him and practically rape him. I squeeze fistfuls of his hair and take him inside, guiding him with my hips, sliding up and down with my legs wrapped around his for leverage.

  We stare into each other’s eyes as I ride him fast and hard, slapping my pelvis against him. It feels so good.

  “What are you doing, Claire?” Kellan gasps.

  “Making you come.” I bite his lower lip and hold it between my teeth, squeezing him with my PC muscles. My clitoris is pressing on his abdomen and I think I may come before he does.

  About 30 seconds later, Kellan comes inside me.

  As soon as I feel it, I come too.

  “Oh my God,” Kellan gasps. “Oh my God.” He keeps saying it. “Oh my God that was good.”

  “I love it when you come inside me.”

  “I love coming inside you. We should probably look into some form of contraception, though. I love you and would love to have kids with you but not quite yet.”

  I sit up and look at him. “You would? Really?”

  “Of course. Are you kidding?”

  My heart swells. No one has ever said that to me before.

  “Claire, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You look scared.”

  I decide to tell him what I’m thinking, to be honest.

  “No one has ever said that to me before.”

  “And that scares you?”

  “I guess I’ve never been serious enough with a guy to have a genuine discussion about having kids. I am a little scared, though. Don’t get me wrong; I love it. It’s just all a little new for me. Everything is happening so fast.”

  “I’ve found that success often happens that way. It’s a series of effortless events that simply happen. Everything falls into place. That’s how you know it was meant to be.”

  He sounds like Denise with her newfound superstring theories. But I don’t want to insult his sweet, romantic sentiment so I keep my mouth shut.

  WE EVENTUALLY EXTRICATE ourselves from the lush and lavish bed to go do our morning cardio.

  We then eat breakfast. Kellan prepares scrambled eggs with avocado, and fresh blueberries. It’s scrumptious. It causes me to wonder why I’ve been eating cereal out of a box all these years when I could’ve been eating this, guilt-free.

  I quickly clean up while Kellan goes into his office to work. I take my laptop out to the pool and sit at the patio table and mess around online for an hour before I buckle down and get some writing done.

  But my mind drifts back to our morning lovemaking. I’ve always liked the idea of morning sex. Now that I’ve experienced it, it’s everything I always hoped it would be.

  THAT NIGHT AT Iron Palace, we train our backs, beginning with deadlift. W
e do it over in the corner near the squat racks, the same place we were last night.

  Just like last night, this part of the gym is empty. The usual guys in tank tops and baseball caps are doing bench press and curls on the other side of the gym, and the thigh machines and treadmills are occupied by the ladies.

  I get up behind Kellan as he prepares to lift 405 pounds. Four plates on each side. My workout is putting the four plates on one end of the bar while Kellan loads the other end.

  Kellan gets into position with his feet spread wide. He squats down and leans forward to grasp the bar. When he leans forward, I press my pelvis against his butt. Then I squeeze it while he lifts. I feel how hard it is. I feel the muscles rippling.

  “You’re supposed to be spotting me, not turning me on.”

  “I can do both. You have a great ass.”

  “Thank you.” When he’s finished, he gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. “Your set.”

  BACK AT KELLAN’S house, we’re laughing because we can’t get out of the car. We took the green Huracan to the gym. It was bad getting out of it then; it’s even worse now. Last night’s leg workout is taking its toll. Kellan says delayed onset muscle soreness, aka D.O.M.S. (sounds like “domes”) always hits 24 hours later and peaks at around 48 hours.

  It’s been 24 hours. It hurts now but it’s going to get worse?

  Kellan assures me that it is.

  We take turns rolling out of the car and onto the floor of the garage. It’s like DiCaprio in Wolf of Wall Street trying to get out of his white Countach. Minus the mind-altering drugs.

  We make our way inside and go for a swim. It’s better being in the water.

  We swim and play in the pool while the Jacuzzi finishes heating up. For some reason, I am super horny. I grab Kellan and climb into his lap as he half-floats, half-stands in the water. I shove my tongue in his mouth. He responds with equal fervor.

  “Why… am I… so horny?” I ask, between breathless kisses.

  “It’s the exercise. Lifting weights gets your hormones pumping. Your endorphins, too. Feels good, huh?”

  “Yes.” I grab fistfuls of his hair and kiss him harder.

  I eventually drag him into the warm, bubbling spa. We’re already naked, otherwise I would rip his bathing trunks down and have my way with him. As it stands, I’m free to do exactly that with his perfect, naked body.

  I dare to hope that if I continue training with Kellan and eating what he eats, someday, maybe in six or nine months or even a year from now, I’ll have a body like his.

  Kellan stands knee-deep in the Jacuzzi while I fellate him. I love having his penis in my mouth. I’ve never enjoyed giving head before; not really, and certainly not like this. It was always a curiosity, as well as something guys expected of me. But Kellan doesn’t expect anything. Which leads me to want to do it for him, and for myself, even more.

  I suck him and stroke him and squeeze him and pump him, trying to think of new ways to make him feel good.

  I reach around and squeeze his perfect butt. It’s bronzed nicely from the sun, and is smooth and hairless and muscular. “God, I just want to bite it.”

  “Go ahead.”

  I spin him around and bite his ass on the right side. Hard.

  Kellan gasps but seems to enjoy it.

  I do it again. And again and again, until I am running my mouth all over his perfect butt, kissing and licking and sucking, giving him big purple hickeys all over his butt cheeks.

  Kellan LOVES it. From the sounds and groans and gasps he utters, I wonder if he’s going to come just from this.

  I lean back to study my handiwork. “Your ass is mine now. See? It’s covered in hickeys.”

  Kellan does his best to examine himself without a mirror. He laughs.

  I reach around and resume stroking him while I kiss his perfect round buttocks, nibbling and sucking and nipping with my teeth. “Bend over and spread your legs.” I reach up and grab his erection and bend it backward between his legs so I can suck it. It’s really, really hard. “You are so hard.”

  “I know. I love it when you give me hickeys on my ass like that.”

  I lick his balls and suck his penis into my mouth and resume putting hickeys on his perfect butt. I let go of his cock and squeeze his cheeks while I bite and suck. I pull them apart and get my first glimpse of his anus.

  “Oh, God, Claire… Oh yes…” Kellan is moaning and breathing heavily.

  We’ve never done this before. I hope he doesn’t freak out or think it’s disgusting or perverted.

  I lightly caress his anus with my finger.

  Kellan goes crazy.

  I decide to go for it: I lick it with my tongue.

  Kellan goes even more crazy.

  I spread him apart, hard, and put my entire mouth on him, trying to put a hickey there too, sucking and licking at the same time.

  I grab his erection and stroke it as I slide my tongue into him. It’s very soft.

  Kellan is moaning and breathing heavily, writhing while trying to remain still for me. He keeps saying my name. Wow.

  A few minutes later, I feel his anus contracting and squeezing my tongue.

  “Oh my God, Claire… yes… I love it… you’re making me come…”

  His cock pulses in my hand as he climaxes.

  When he’s done, I pull him down into the water and have him lie on my chest. I put my arms around him and support him. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”

  Kellan rests his head on my shoulder.

  “Did you like that?” I purr into his ear.

  “God yes. I loved it. I loved it so much. No one has ever done that to me before. Promise you’ll do it again sometime.”

  “I promise. Don’t worry, there’s lots more where that came from.”

  Kellan twists around to kiss me. “God you’re amazing.” He then settles back on my chest again, his body floating in the water.

  I secretly wonder if I keep doing stuff like that, if Kellan would be open to what I have in the black box hidden in my closet.

  Chapter 4

  THE NEXT MORNING, I get up and go to work, even though I really, really, really really don’t want to. Really.

  I depart from Kellan’s house and begin my drive. It feels odd, because I’ve always left from my own tiny little apartment. The drive from Kellan’s is a bit longer, but I don’t mind.

  Work is smooth. Nancy asks how I’m doing. This is the first time I’ve seen her since taking four days off for what I referred to as a personal emergency.

  I tell her that all is well.

  She says good and seems relieved. She has the sense not to pry. I get the feeling she was worried I was quitting. I am the only one capable of carrying the big round ovals of meals during served events. Buffets are always easy; just set it up, let them stampede through, keep it stocked as necessary, especially the tri-tip, and then clean up after them. But served events take longer. It can take 45 minutes to serve 300 people one table at a time. And that’s with me hauling ass.

  I get home later than I expected.

  Kellan is asleep on the sofa with his hardcover copy of Prisoner of Azkaban open on his chest. I guess he finished Chamber.

  He wakes up as I close the door.

  “Hi. You’re home late.”

  I notice his use of the word ‘home’, as though it’s my place, too. I like it.

  I sit beside him and give him a kiss. He smells good, like bodywash and sun and him.

  “How was your day?” I ask.

  “Good. Busy. But good. Yours?”

  “Fine. Pretty typical. Did you work?”

  “Yeah. Big time. I trained eight online clients. Three in California, one in Utah, one in New Hampshire, two in Florida, and one in Australia.”

  “Wow. How much do you charge for that?”

  “Two hundred bucks an hour.”

  “Holy crap. You made sixteen hundred bucks today?”

  “From training I did. I haven’t checked retail sales or online ord
ers yet.”

  “That’s more than I make in a month.” I am baffled and dazzled by his financial prowess, his money-making expertise. I wish I could do that. I have 13 novels for sale online. Maybe if I keep training with him and eating right and losing weight (shifting my body composition), some of his business charm will rub off on me, too.

  While I shower, Kellan fixes me a snack, a grilled chicken breast, with asparagus sautéed in garlic, and a protein shake. It’s scrumptious.

  We go to bed naked but don’t fool around. For some reason, I really like this; simply being naked with Kellan and not overly obsessed with having sex.

  FRIDAY MORNING IS essentially the same as Thursday morning. I get up and go to work. Kellan and I joke that it’s like I’m the breadwinner working man going off to the office and he’s the wife in the 50s.

  I work late again, a long all-day golf tournament with a breakfast, a lunch, and a dinner and awards ceremony.

  By the time I get home, I’m hot, sweaty, dirty, and sticky from carrying giant containers of lemonade and iced tea out to the golf course all day and traipsing around in my stupid black men’s work pants from Walmart. I go into the bedroom and rip off my clothes and take a shower to wash off the sweat and stink.

  It’s Friday night but rather than go out, Kellan coerces me into training at home with him in his elaborate home gym. It’s ten times better than the little fitness center at my apartment complex.

  Kellan and I train chest but wind up having sex on the bench press. We strip off each other’s clothes and I ride him on the incline bench.

  “Can I tie you to this bench and have my way with you?” I ask.

  “Like Christian what’s-his-name in Fifty Shades?”

  “Christian Grey. Hence the title. And yes.”

  “Sure.”

  “Really?” He agrees so readily that I am surprised.

  “Sure. Would you like that?”

  “I think so. Not in a demented, fifty-shades-of-fucked-up kind of way. But I think it would be fun to please you when you can’t move, so I can be in control and do whatever I want to you.”

  “I would love that.”