In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance

by Jackie Ashenden

  Fucking delicious.

  I kept my mouth there, unmoving as she writhed in my grip, panting and gasping, riding out the climax with her, my own cock straining the front of my pants.

  But I was an expert at ignoring my physical reaction so I ignored it now as I knelt there, very still, letting her come to a trembling sort of quiet.

  I gave her a minute to get her breath back.

  Then I got to work.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Vesta

  THE FEEL OF his mouth on me was almost too much to bear. The aftershocks of the orgasm he’d just given me were still crashing around inside me and the touch of his tongue on my sensitive flesh was like an electric current applied directly to my skin.

  He licked at me delicately, tracing the contours of my sex with his tongue, unhurried and slow, making the most intense pleasure spear through me as sharp as a knife.

  There were stars behind my eyes, exploding with colour and sparking all over my skin, joining the fire he was building between my legs.

  I could feel his hands cradling me, the warmth of his palms against my skin, the hard wood of the chair arms pressing into the undersides of my knees, the leather at my back...

  He licked me, nipped me, tasted me, his breath hot on my bare skin.

  I writhed, lifting my hips, panting. Ecstasy was spiralling through me, building and building, layer upon layer. Not fast and hard, but slow and relentless, making a sob collect in my throat.

  He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew exactly how to touch and to tantalise, to bring the pleasure to a peak without tipping me over. It was maddening. Exhilarating.

  I’d always suspected it would be good with him, but I’d had no idea it would be so much better than good.

  I groaned, my knuckles white on the arms of the chair as he effortlessly held me on that edge again, that wicked tongue of his exploring my flesh with a single-minded intensity that had me shivering all over.

  He made me beg, sounds spilling out of me that I’d never heard before. Some friends had told me that they could take or leave oral sex; clearly that was because they’d never had Eli Hart work them over the way he was working me.

  I’d had dreams about him, but they’d been vague and half formed. Of his touch and his mouth on mine. Wispy teenage thoughts that hadn’t been too explicit and yet had been hot just the same. They hadn’t been this explicit, this raw. His mouth on my sex, his tongue exploring me, teasing my clit, pushing inside, his teeth against my slick flesh.

  Eli kneeling in front of the chair, holding me, worshipping me.

  It was so good. Too much.

  I screamed as it came to a head, jack-knifing in the chair as the orgasm rolled over me, pleasure echoing throughout my entire body. He gripped me hard, preventing me from moving, nuzzling at me as I rode out the incredible waves of pleasure.

  And then he started again.

  I felt a little bit broken, my voice hoarse and scraped raw. ‘I can’t...’ I forced out hoarsely as that relentless tongue went back to work on me again. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Of course you can.’ The abrasive sound of his voice rasped over me, and the heat in it eased all the rough edges. ‘You’re tenacious, remember?’

  The words hit me weirdly. They sounded as if...well...he knew me. As if we knew each other. As if he remembered me being tenacious some time before, which of course he would. But he’d been busy pretending he was a stranger, that we didn’t know each other.

  It was a slip, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed it, as he didn’t try to explain it or cover it up. Then again, given the attention he was paying to my clit, he probably wasn’t thinking of that.

  I wanted to ask him about it, push him, for reasons I couldn’t have explained as I was sure him realising I knew who he was would end things.

  But then he murmured, ‘Good girl.’ And then, when I shuddered in his hands yet again, he added, ‘That’s it. You’re doing so well.’ His voice had dropped into a low, gravelly purr that was somehow even more sexy, his fingers squeezing my ass. ‘Once more for me. Once more.’

  For him, I would do anything.

  So I tried to hold out, to resist. Because it was clear he got off on me doing so. I almost moaned his name a dozen times, my teeth closing on my lip just to stop myself in time. I bit it bloody.

  But I couldn’t hold out. He was too good and he was the man I’d wanted for years and years. I couldn’t have held out even if I’d done this before. And I hadn’t...

  He held me there so long that time ceased to have any meaning. I existed in a state of the most intense ecstasy, the build of it a constantly rising wave that never broke. I was lost to it, blind to anything else.

  And then he did something with his tongue that made the wave not only break but detonate. I screamed again, rigid in the chair, my toes curling in my shoes, my nails digging into the wood of the chair, smashed into tiny pieces by the weight of the pleasure that crushed me.

  Afterwards I floated there for a while, not wanting to move. I could hear my hoarse breathing, my heartbeat crashing around in my ears, and gradually the awareness of the outside world came back. His hands were moving, sliding to grab my hips, pulling me to the edge of the chair, and then suddenly the world lurched as he lifted me into his arms.

  I shuddered against his hard chest, feeling the slight prickle of wool against my bare skin, and then the intense heat of his body. I’d had hugs from him before, years ago. I hadn’t really got them from my parents, which had made Eli’s so special. He’d been big, strong and so reassuring. I’d loved it when he hugged me.

  And this was like that, only better. He was like a rock I could lean against all warm from the sun. A rock that wouldn’t move, that I could hide behind when I got scared, that would shield me.

  I rested my head against his shoulder, inhaling the warm scent of his wonderful aftershave. I could hear his heart beating, strong and steady and intensely reassuring.

  Maybe I should have struggled, or protested or something, but I simply didn’t have the energy. I just lay there quiet in his arms, happy to be there.

  He took a couple of steps and then I felt him sit, still holding me. As I settled in his lap, I could feel the hard press of his cock against my ass, insistent. It made me shiver.

  ‘Don’t you want me to...uh...do something about that?’ My voice was little more than a croak.

  ‘No.’ The word rumbled against my ear, impossibly deep. ‘There’s plenty of time for that. You need a bit of space to recover.’

  Something warm settled around me and I realised he must have pulled a throw or a blanket from somewhere and put it over me.

  I was so warm, snuggled in the blanket and resting against his body, and I just let the silence sit there for a time and let myself float.

  I was here in a hotel room with Eli Hart. Who’d made me come three times in a row. Was this it? Was this the peak of my life? Was this as good as it got? If so, I really couldn’t ask for better.

  I was so relaxed I nearly asked him what he’d been doing for the past nine years, only at the last minute remembering I wasn’t supposed to know who he was. My lip was a little sore from the way I’d bitten it before, but that didn’t stop me from biting it again, making me wince.

  And he must have noticed because his arms tightened fractionally. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Sore lip.’

  ‘Hmm.’ That sexy rumble again. And then the gentlest pressure against my mouth, the lightest brush of his. ‘You should have just screamed,’ he murmured. ‘No one would have heard.’

  Yeah, that wasn’t why I’d been biting my lip.

  ‘Why do you do that?’ I asked instead, trying to figure out how I could get the information I wanted out of him without letting on that I knew him. ‘Draw out the orgasm, I mean. Is that what you do with women?’

 
‘Anticipation makes it more intense.’ His voice was a lazy rumble. ‘And more pleasurable.’

  ‘And that’s what you like to do? Make it more intense?’

  ‘Yes. Women don’t expect to get pleasure from these interactions, but I make sure they do.’

  I shifted against him, tilting my head back to look up at him, even though I couldn’t see him. He’d always had his arms full of those glittering women, the beautiful ones drawn by his beauty and his fame, and I’d heard the rumours that he was supposed to be a legend in bed. So why was he now paying for sex? And why the blindfold? Why didn’t he want anyone to see him? Especially when all these contracts and NDAs were part of the encounter.

  ‘Is that important to you?’ I asked. ‘That they get pleasure out of it?’

  ‘Full of questions, aren’t you?’

  ‘Just a couple. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

  There was a silence and then he let out a breath. ‘I like making it intense and memorable for a woman. I like to give them something they didn’t expect.’

  Interesting.

  ‘And the blindfold?’

  ‘Ensures there are no expectations. If you can’t see me, you don’t know my name and you don’t know what I look like. I could be anyone. All there is is the pleasure I give you.’

  Even more interesting. There must have been so much pressure on him all those years ago. Everyone had thought he’d make it into the NFL draft, that his career in football was a sure thing. He’d mentioned to me a couple of times that his parents were counting on him to make it big, as they’d been struggling financially. His mom had cleaned our house and she’d always seemed nice. His dad had been a big, hulking figure, a bit grim. He hadn’t smiled much.

  Eli had always talked about his dad being the reason for his success. How he’d been there at every game, pushing him, making him do better. I’d never got the impression that his father had been encouraging, more one of those tennis dads or stage moms, pushing and pushing their kids to do more and more.

  His dad must have had major expectations of him, that was for sure. What had happened after that game that had lost him his future? Did that have anything to do with him wanting no expectations now?

  ‘What’s the problem with expectations, then?’ I asked, still a bit out of it from the after-effects of the orgasms he’d given me. ‘Why don’t you want anyone to know who you are?’

  ‘Are you hungry?’ He gave no sign that he’d heard my question.

  ‘A little.’ Actually, now that he mentioned it, I was starving.

  ‘Wait here.’

  He gently deposited me on the couch before moving away to somewhere else in the room. I heard the rattle of a trolley and the sound of plates being shifted around, and then the scent of hot food came drifting over.

  He hadn’t answered my questions and maybe that was just as well. I shouldn’t be asking them. I mean, did I really want him to know that I knew who he was? That would mean having to deal with whatever reaction he had to it, and then his reaction to whatever questions I flung at him about why he’d blanked me for so long.

  Did I want to hear the truth? Could I bear it? Or was it easier to stay silent? Certainly, right now it was easier to stay silent. About that, at least.

  ‘Orgasms and food too, huh?’ I said, drawing the throw more securely around me. ‘No wonder they call you a black-star client.’

  ‘The tips are not the only reason for my reputation.’

  He sounded very smug and very male, and I couldn’t help smiling. Of course, it wouldn’t be just the tips, not with the oral skills he’d just demonstrated. And then there was the whole package that was Eli, which wouldn’t just be about oral skills. He was rich nowadays—or so I’d heard. And he was beautiful too, though I guessed that wasn’t a thing, because of the blindfold.

  I could hear him approach again, and the sound of things being put down on a table close by. Then I felt him sit beside me, his hands settling on me as he drew me into his lap once again. It seemed that he liked holding me, which I was totally okay with.

  I was totally okay with everything he was doing.

  Except you kind of do want to ask questions. This might be the only night you have a chance to find out the answers.

  It was true. I hadn’t thought of that.

  ‘Open your mouth,’ he ordered quietly.

  I blinked behind the blindfold. ‘What?’

  ‘Wine.’

  A cool glass was pressed against my lips and automatically I opened them, the rich taste of a very good red flooding my mouth. It was delicious, so I swallowed it down obediently.

  ‘You don’t have to feed me,’ I muttered after a second swallow. ‘I can do that myself, believe it or not.’

  ‘This isn’t about what you want,’ he said patiently. ‘This is about what I want, and what I want is to feed you.’ Then he went on before I could protest, ‘And, before you ask, no, I’m not going to tell you why. I hope you like crackers and cheese.’

  It was annoying that he wouldn’t explain. Then again, hadn’t I already decided that it was for the best if I didn’t ask questions? Still, there was that nagging thought that this would be my only chance.

  Only if you want to know.

  I’d always kept my expectations low, both of myself and other people, mainly because other people were always disappointing. Or rather, I was always disappointing them in some way. I wasn’t bright enough for my dad. Not pretty enough for my mom. Not interesting enough for my brother.

  Basically the only person I hadn’t disappointed in some way was Eli. Actually, now I thought about it, maybe he did have a point with the whole expectations thing. I could see how not knowing who someone was and vice versa meant no expectations could be placed on either of you, and you didn’t have to expect anything.

  Except I’d kind of cheated. I knew who he was and I’d had my expectations of what he would be like. Yet he’d blown every single one of them out of the water.

  I wasn’t sure where that left me or whether it changed anything or not, though I couldn’t quite leave behind the sense of nagging curiosity.

  Deciding simply to live in the moment for the meantime, I relaxed in his arms instead, something warm and yet also slightly bittersweet glowing behind my breastbone.

  He fed me cheese and crackers, which I happened to love, along with strawberries and grapes, which I also loved. There was more red wine and then some delicious chocolate truffles, which I devoured.

  And then, apparently, it was his turn for questions.

  ‘So what makes a lovely young woman get naked in a hotel room with a stranger?’ he asked as he pressed the glass to my mouth for another sip. ‘Has to be more than simple validation or money.’

  I swallowed the wine and licked my lips. ‘There’s nothing simple about validation.’

  ‘True,’ he conceded. ‘So what is it, then?’

  ‘I don’t have to answer your questions if you’re not going to answer mine.’

  ‘Of course you don’t. But I have answered some of yours.’

  I wrinkled my nose. ‘Is this a “you show me yours if I show you mine” kind of deal?’

  ‘If you want another chocolate it is.’

  The glow in my chest spread outward. That was the Eli I remembered, slightly teasing, amused and affectionate, and I could hear both amusement and affection in his voice now, as if he couldn’t help himself.

  ‘You said I was tenacious before,’ I heard myself say before I could stop it. ‘What did you mean by that?’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Elias

  THAT WAS ONE question I hadn’t expected to be asked. Had I really said that to her?

  While you were on your knees eating her out, if you recall...

  I did recall. Her soft ass filling my palms, the perfect, salty-swee
t taste of her pussy filling my mouth. Her moans and cries. The way she’d shifted, restless, unable to keep still as I kept her at the peak. ‘Please,’ she’d said. ‘Oh, please.’ And I swore, if she’d known who I was, she would have said my name because it was me she wanted.

  Me. Not whatever fantasy was playing in her head.

  I’d forgotten myself. I’d forgotten I wasn’t supposed to know who she was. I’d called her tenacious, because Vee always had been.

  Fuck. She should have been out of her mind with pleasure, too blissed out even to take in what I’d said. Apparently not. Either I was losing my touch or she was far too sharp for her own good.

  Sadly, when it came to Vesta, it was likely to be the latter.

  I glanced down at her.

  She sat in my lap, her head on my shoulder, relaxed and warm against me. The throw I’d put around her had slipped, baring one pale shoulder and an even paler round breast. She was delectable naked, all those sharp angles resolved into a womanly whole that went straight to my dick like alcohol to the brain on an empty stomach.

  I’d have preferred it, obviously, if she’d answered my question about just what the fuck had driven her into this hotel room, but if I didn’t answer this it might start to look suspicious. And, since she already thought I was familiar to her in some way, that might be asking for trouble.

  So I kept my voice calm and didn’t let on that she’d surprised me. ‘You know what tenacious means, right?’

  ‘Yeah, but you said “you’re tenacious, remember?”. Like you knew something about me.’

  With an effort, I kept my muscles relaxed. ‘I don’t know anything about you. I was just telling you to be tenacious. No great mystery.’

  It wasn’t a great mystery as to what her expression would be behind that blindfold, either. Her forehead would be wrinkled up the way it did when she was concentrating on something, usually a line of text she was struggling to read. But she never gave up. She’d work at it until she understood it and could read it.