A commitment to love cha.., p.1
A Commitment to Love (Chasing Love Book 3), page 1
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
A Commitment to Love
Copyright © 2015 by Kenya Wright
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
A Commitment of Love
Prologue
ACT ONE
Chapter 1 | Jasmine
Chapter 2 | Jasmine
Chapter 3 | Chase
Chapter 4 | Jasmine
Chapter 5 | Chase
ACT TWO
Chapter 6 | Jasmine
Chapter 7 | Chase
Chapter 8 | Jasmine
Chase
Chapter 10 | Jasmine
Chapter 11 | Chase
Chapter 12 | Jasmine
Chapter 13 | Chase
Chapter 14 | Jasmine
Chapter 15 | Chase
Chapter 16 | Jasmine
Chapter 17 | Chase
Chapter 18 | Jasmine
Chapter 19 | Chase
ACT THREE
Chapter 20 | Jasmine
Chapter 21 | Chase
Chapter 22 | Jasmine
Chapter 23 | Chase
Chapter 24 | Jasmine
Chapter 25 | Chase
Chapter 26 | Jasmine
Chapter 27 | Chase
Chapter 28 | Jasmine
Chapter 29 | Chase
Chapter 30 | Jasmine
Chapter 31 | Jasmine
Epilogue | Chase
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2015
ISBN 0-9000000-0-0
www.KenyaWright.com
Prologue
In Oshane City, the masquerade ball began with no problems.
Tonight would be an event of the senses. Celebrity chefs composed mouthwatering dishes that Jasmine had approved. Broadway set designers arranged the decor and turned the luxury hotel’s ballroom into an exotic, underground world of sex and mystery. Ropes of red light hung from the high ceilings while yards of sheer fabric draped the walls.
Bare-breasted women strolled the space in strips of satin that tied around their bottoms and hid their other secrets. Gossamer silk cloaked their entire faces. With smooth elegance, they balanced trays on their heads and served drinks.
And now the time had arrived to present Jasmine.
Dressed in a tuxedo, I donned a mask. It was themed with the Beatles “Yellow Submarine” album cover. Psychedelic blues, yellows, and reds painted the whole disguise that only covered my forehead, nose, and cheeks. Stacks of silver musical notes outlined the border like huge peacock feathers.
John Lennon himself might have ordered a second mask.
I tapped my side pocket over and over as I waited in front of the orchestra, which was placed at the center of the ballroom. Jasmine would be entering from the far back of the space, so that she could walk by all of the guests.
Sorry, Jasmine. But everyone needs to understand who you are to me.
Tonight, the world would know that she was mine. Respect would be required. If not given, then taken with a swift vengeance that I held only for enemies. Those that knew me reasonably well, figured that Jasmine would be the first live-in girlfriend of many more. They’d watched me in awe as I lived with my old girlfriends for years.
Dawn, Wendy, and Lucy had strolled by my side from city to small beach town, elegant engagements to private dinners. Some compared me to Hugh Hefner and his bunnies.
That was all behind me now.
I’ll show her and everyone else. Tonight is a start. This will let the women know that I’m unavailable.
The ring would show Jasmine, Gabe, and her family.
Everything else would fall into place ... after I give her the ring. There would still be the matter of Benny, but I won’t think of that now.
Dad refused to come. He understood what it meant for me to tell the world about my love, and he didn’t approve of Jasmine. He’d called her gutter trash, and I’d hung up, breaking my phone several seconds later.
Initially, Jasmine had wanted a simple welcome or small meet and greet with my friends. She hoped for something like a short news article about our relationship, or even a tiny afternoon tea with a casual group. Regardless, she begged me to do a quick hello and then escape back into her private universe.
No.
I wanted a goddamn ceremony—horns blaring and tons of news cameras, high-end dishes, and sparkling decor. We’d fought for days on this.
And I’d won with my tongue between her shivering thighs. I was the victor, and I had it all on video. My personal camera recorded, while I consumed Jasmine. The top half of her body hung over the bed, defeated. I was the champion while she groaned out yes over and over, and then begged for my mouth some more.
But back to the masquerade ...
The music lowered in the ballroom. The doors opened far ahead of me, but I couldn’t make her out.
Don’t be nervous, tesoro.
“Rise!” the master of ceremonies beckoned all to stand and come to the border of the dance floor.
He was an androgynous man, wearing a mask done in tiny crimson roses. Those flowers swarmed all over his face, seeming to move each time he turned or pranced around. A massive shadowy cape hid his body and dragged on the floor as he strolled.
The guests sashayed forward. Curiosity thickened in the air. Elegant masks covered Willow Park’s high-society faces. Peacock feathers outlined the tops of their heads. Others had half-masks made from an assortment of material. Most covered only the wearers’ eyes, foreheads, and noses. Everything from gems to shards of crystals glimmered from their disguises.
“Welcome your queen!” The master of ceremonies clapped. “Jasmine Montgomery.”
I held in a chuckle as I imagined the look on Jasmine’s face when she heard the word queen.
She’s probably going to kill me for having him say ‘your queen,’ but it was worth it.
Everyone went quiet.
Still.
Even the musicians quietly held their instruments close to their bodies.
Jasmine entered the immaculate ballroom, looking like what I called her in Italian. Tesoro. Treasure. Two nude men flanked her as she walked, holding her hands. Silver masks shielded the guys’ faces.
My tesoro. She’s really all I’ll ever need.
Like the men, she wore her own disguise—a mass of tiny, black, and coiled lines started at her forehead, rounded both eyes, and covered only one side of her face with diamond-spotted feathers.
Dressed in black lace, Jasmine glided toward me. A strapless gown formed around every curve and trailed behind her in a wave of elegance.
Christ, she’s enchanting.
I’d ordered the fabric from a designer boutique in Paris—Chantilly lace with hand-embroidered calla lily flowers that revealed my tesoro’s bare flesh among the swirled pattern. Luxury wrapped around those thick hips and cupped her full breasts. Tiny gems glimmered up her bare fingers, hands, and arms, tons of gems that were done in a henna tattoo pattern.
She was all mine!
She was a goddess draped in darkness.
I wanted to fuck her right there in the center of the ballroom,
ignore the hundreds of people around us,
bend her over,
yank that lace away,
spread those secret, moist lips,
and slide into that luscious warmth.
That was how she made me think.
Vile and raw with no chaser, just the hard-hitting thrill of flesh against the mind-numbing rhythm of pleasure.
No, I’ll take you later. I have other ways to have fun this evening.
I put my hand in my pocket and grabbed the tiny remote control inside. Oh how I loved my games with my tesoro.
Tonight, hours before this moment and before my staff helped Jasmine get dressed, I gave her a gift. A special toy.
“What’s this?” She’d closed her robe tight as if that could stop me from taking her right there in our bedroom. “Get dressed.”
I grinned. “Open my present.”
“The party starts in an hour and a half.”
“The masquerade ball doesn’t start until I walk into the building.”
Rolling those hazel eyes, she hit her forehead and nodded. “That’s right. I forgot that you are a god.”
“One shouldn’t ever forget that.” I took her into my arms and devoured those lips. Sighing between moans, she tried to pull away.
“Sit down, tesoro,” I whispered.
“Why?”
“I have a present.”
She stepped back and sat in the cushioned chair behind her. “What is it?”
“Spread those beautiful legs.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned.
“Let me give it to you.”
She stared at my crotch. “Really? Haven’t I had that present before?”
I forced myself to keep my pants on. “Not that present, tesoro. You’ll get that later.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips. “Open your legs, Jasmine.”
She bit her bottom lip and opened them, inch by lovely inch.
I got right in front of her and dropped down to my knees. “You’re following orders with ease.”
She smirked. “I tend to follow orders, when they involve opening my legs and you’re getting down to your knees.”
“I’ll make note of that.” I landed a trail of kisses down her thigh and lifted her robe.
She wore nothing on under it, not even panties. Fuck. I had to blow against those moist lips.
Groaning, she let her head fall back and mumbled, “No, Chase. We don’t have time.”
“What did I tell you about that word, no?” I gently pushed her legs apart some more and took out my gift from my pocket to show her.
It was a tiny, pink object, shaped like a pen that was thick at the top. A white cord dangled at the bottom of it.
With an opened mouth, she stared at it and laughed. “You bought me a high tech tampon? What the hell?”
I glanced back at it. “This isn’t a tampon.”
She tapped the dangling string. “It looks like one.”
“Trust me. If this was a tampon, then stores would be full of women pretending to be on their periods.” I parted her secret lips, relished in the moistness of them for far longer than I should have, and then inserted the pen inside of her.
“Mmmm.” She tensed against me as I pushed it in farther. “What is this?”
“A special type of vibrator.” When I’d made sure the top part of the pen was inside of her, I twisted the bottom half off, slipped it down over the cord, and put it in my pocket. The toy and cord remained. When it was time to take the little toy out of her, I would gently pull on the cord.
She turned to me. “Now what, Mr. Stone?”
”Now you can get dressed.”
“Excuse me?” She laughed and stood up, too.
“How long do you want me to have a little vibrator inside of me?”
I got up and walked off. “Leave it inside during the whole ball.”
“I will not.”
I targeted her with a heated gaze. “You will.”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“I’m the god of the day.”
“You’re a power hungry, egotistical, rich brat.”
“I’ll know if you take it off.” I took out my remote control from the other pocket and showed it to her.
“The vibrator inside of me has a remote control?” she asked.
I pressed the first button, ordering the toy to turn on and start moving inside of her.
Groaning, she grabbed the edge of her desk, closed her eyes, and mumbled, “Chase, stop.”
“Stop what?” It took everything in me to not rush over there and lick her.
“Chase ...” She squeezed her thighs tight together. “Please.”
I pushed the off button. “You told me that I would be the god of the day.”
“No,” she replied with her eyes still closed, as if she was desperately trying to regain composure, “I said that I would go to your crazy masquerade ball.”
“You said god of the day.” I considered turning on the toy again just to hear her groan and thought better of it.
Knowing me, I’d have Jasmine on her vanity table before she could finish the sound.
“Do I have to remind you, tesoro? I have you agreeing to me being the god of the day on video. I, for one, enjoy watching that particular film we did. I can put it on. Remember the way you screamed my name?”
Opening her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I winked at her and left our bedroom.
“I only said god for one freaking day!” she called after me. “Be careful, Chase. Tomorrow is a whole new normal day, and on normal days, Jasmine is the goddess of the day!”
I pressed my remote control to silence her rant and send more delicious vibrations to that body. Her grunts escaped the bedroom and fled into the hallway. It was hard to stay away, difficult to keep my hands out of my pants as I rushed down the stairs.
* * *
Clearing my throat, I returned back to Jasmine in dark lace and the masquerade ball in front of me.
Not now. I won’t push it while you’re strolling over to me. You’ve been too good this evening. But when you get close ... that’s when I’ll have my fun.
I wrapped my fingers around the remote control.
First we have fun with the games. Later, I’ll show you what’s in my other pocket, and hope you say yes.
I closed my fingers around the jewelry box. A shiver ran up my spine.
Would she say yes and marry me? Would she be enough? Should I even be thinking this way, while that ring weighs my pocket down?
Letting out a long breath, I concentrated on the sight before me.
Under all of our feet, the surface glowed in an electric lavender hue. The lights dimmed and left only the candles’ glow as they adorned every silk-draped table. The full orchestra prepared their instruments and then played a slow groove that required the sensuality that only violins could master.
“Oh how beautiful she is!” the master of ceremonies declared.
Chatter shifted to silence.
Waiters placed a port chocolate glaze onto crystal plates and then stacked the sauce with pepper-crusted lamb chops. Each dish was paired with seared vegetables and lobster mashed potatoes, a new Jasmine-inspired addiction of mine. The staff wore white velvet oval masks with wide eye-holes and no opening for the lips. Jasmine believed they appeared muted and odd. That was the goal. Hopefully, the waiters inspired the guests to keep their mouths closed as well.
This is our night.
“Come!” The master of ceremonies waved at everyone.
Jasmine continued down the path.
“Come see the magnificent queen!”
Her steps faltered a bit at the second mention of queen.
Oh, tesoro. I know you’re cringing inside. You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?
I tried to hold in my laughter and failed.
“Oh how captivating!” The master of ceremonies clapped some more.
The crowd edged around and drank Jasmine in. I had no idea what they thought. I rubbed the side of the remote with my finger. Lust itched my hands. My dick had been hard since the limo ride to the event. The whole drive, I pressed the buttons, testing out their various intensity levels and getting her to come all over my soft, leather seats.
Do you want to come in here, tesoro?
Barely six feet away from me, Jasmine continued.
Hundreds of people glittered around her, but no one shined like my tesoro.
Sure, I’m giving up women. Many of them. But ... this time I get why those guys in corny films say love is worth it. At least, I think I do? What is this feeling? Lust or love?
It was hard to understand sometimes, too much to comprehend.
She was a drug in my veins. She was the song that I played every night, until my brain imprinted with the melody of her moans.
And they drummed,
those moans,
over and over in my head,
triggering desire at the wrong times, like in this moment, while everyone surrounded us.
Is this love or an intense lust? Does it matter? When she’s around, I just can’t help myself.
Inside my pocket, I pressed the button, delivering the command to the toy inside of her slick tunnel.
I wanted to make that lush pussy vibrate,
thunder,
shake,
and force her to shudder,
drip,
and moisten between those lovely thighs.
She slipped a little with the last step. Thankfully, the men held her hands. I caught a tiny whimper from her lips within the downpour of the crowd’s clapping and orchestra’s playing of violins.
She mouthed the words. “I’m going to kill you.”
And I laughed behind my own mask.
She frowned as I pressed a more intense level.
I met her before she could stumble again. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Stop it,” she whispered, gasping and falling into my arms. And still I pressed the button, rocking that secret space between her thighs and sending intense throbs to her center.
“Chase,” she moaned and grabbed my shoulders hard. “Please.”
Not noticing her distress, and I doubted anyone else did, the master of ceremonies beckoned everyone to cheer as he proclaimed, “Welcome Chase Stone’s new beautiful girlfriend, Jasmine Montgomery!”
The crowd cheered some more, and I pushed the toy’s control button for the highest level. She shrieked against me, “Chase!”
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