Scandalous Billionaire (Titans Book 5)

by Sierra Cartwright

  Shaking from the fright he’d given her, she spun.

  When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t find her voice.

  He lazed in the doorjamb, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. The tight material hugged his hips, and the front pouch showed off his semierect cock.

  Stunned, heated, she clutched the carton to her chest.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was rich and sleep roughened, dragging across her senses like diamonds on steel. “Couldn’t settle?”

  “That sometimes happens when I’m not in my own bed.” It was a total lie, and every one of her nerve endings was twisted inside out.

  His jaw was unshaven, making him seem sexier than ever. Unable to stop herself, she looked at him, appreciating his broad shoulders and honed chest that had a sexy smattering of hair.

  Lizzie told herself to affect an air of nonchalance, pretending she often found herself alone with an ultrahot alpha male in his kitchen in the middle of the night.

  Right now, she didn’t know how to stop herself from letting her gaze wander lower, to his tight abdomen. He had a workout room in the house, and there was no doubt he used it.

  His legs were lean and muscular, probably from cycling or running.

  Then, damn it, she was unable to resist temptation to once again look at his pelvis. Arousal flashed through her in a wave of hunger she’d never experienced before. It was as frightening as it was irresistible.

  He was regarding her, and if his lazy smile was anything to go by, he didn’t mind the way she’d been staring at him.

  To distract herself from the unwelcome sensations zipping through her, Lizzie carried the milk to the island.

  “Are you going to be selfish with the cookies? I’ll tell your mom you wouldn’t share.”

  Because his comment was so lighthearted and absurd—a contradiction to his potent masculinity—she gave a small laugh.

  Without waiting for another response, he pushed away from the door. Within seconds, he’d pulled back a stool from the island and took a seat.

  Lizzie contemplated fleeing back to her room, but now that he was up, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep anyway.

  She transferred a pile of cookies onto a plate then slid it in front of him. “Milk also?”

  “I haven’t done this in years.”

  Neither had she. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

  “Please.” He nodded.

  After she took down a second glass and filled each of them, then returned the carton to the fridge, the situation became even more awkward, at least for her. He seemed completely at ease.

  “Thank you.” He lifted his glass and tipped it toward her in a slight toast. Then, surprising her, he dunked his cookie in the milk.

  For a moment, he looked more carefree than she ever remembered. Ever since she met him, he’d been serious, maybe to the point of somber. Or maybe this was an act, part of his effort to charm her. If so, it was working.

  “I always appreciated the way your mom had treats for me.”

  She took a drink and propped her hips against the sink, about as far away from his as possible.

  “After little Mandy…”

  Intrigued, she waited. Her mother almost never spoke of Braden’s baby sister, who’d been born premature and passed a few weeks later.

  “Things changed.” He finished his treat, and she wondered if he’d go on or whether that was as much as he intended to share.

  “Mom used to be happy. And then, all the joy was sucked from our lives.”

  Lizzie had heard that his parents separated shortly after that. Even now they lived in different homes, even though they’d never filed for divorce.

  “They lost a child. And I lost my little sister and my parents.” He shrugged, but there was pain in his eyes, making it difficult for her to breathe. “There was a year or more of this horrible, unnatural silence. No television, no music. When I look back, I’m sure my mother was depressed.”

  He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine at the time, not nearly old enough to understand what was happening.

  “And then came the yelling. Well, not from Mom, never from her, but from Dad. The louder he was, the more she cried. It didn’t get any better when he left. In fact, it might have been worse. Grief takes its toll.”

  “Oh, Braden. I’m so sorry. I really had no idea.” While she’d heard the story before, she’d been removed from it. She was never at the house without her mother, and Eileen spread joy wherever she went.

  “Without your mom…” He shrugged. “Having her here made things bearable.”

  More than ever, she understood the offense she’d caused yesterday when she suggested her mother might lose her job. He was sincere about how much Eileen meant to him.

  “I didn’t mean to be melancholy.” He snatched up another cookie. “Where does she hide them?”

  “It’s a secret. You didn’t even know they were there, and if I tell you, you’ll eat them all, and then I won’t have any when I come over.”

  “So you really weren’t going to share?”

  “Nope.” She took a great big bite. “Not at all.”

  They exchanged goofy grins. Once they faded, the atmosphere ignited.

  “Lizzie…”

  Even though she should resist him, she wanted him with a ferocity that wouldn’t be denied.

  Each motion purposeful, he slipped from the stool and strode toward her.

  “Those things in your drawers?” She faltered, unable to express herself. Why had she even mentioned her fears?

  Braden captured her shoulders in a touch that was unbelievably light and reassuring. “Yes?” he asked.

  “They’re terrifying.”

  “They don’t need to be. Everything I own can be sensual and nothing more. It depends on how the toy is used. And I want to be clear about this—I have no expectations of you. We don’t have to use any of them.”

  Once again, unbidden, her thoughts turned to the rope she’d fondled, the gag she’d seen.

  “Was there anything that interested you?”

  “No.”

  “Lizzie, Lizzie.” He trailed a finger down the side of her jaw. “You’d make a terrible poker player. When you’re not being truthful, you speak more quickly than normal. It’s slight. But noticeable because I’m watching every little thing you do, listening to each word you utter.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” It wasn’t. She’d all but snapped the words.

  “Is it? You did it when we were in my closet and I asked if you’d opened the third drawer. And again, a few minutes ago when you said you couldn’t sleep because you were in a strange bed.”

  Had anyone ever seen through her as well as he did? That idea was even more frightening than his BDSM proclivities.

  “We can try anything you want, or nothing at all.”

  She nodded.

  “I want to make love to you, Lizzie.”

  That word. She would have preferred he say fuck, something that would allow her to build an emotional barrier between them. There was no doubt he was far more casual about sex than she was, so everything he did had to be purposeful, as a way to build intimacy. For her, it was working.

  “I have condoms, and we’ll use them.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as she surrendered to the inevitable.

  “Don’t hide from me.”

  That was exactly what she wanted to do. “It’d be easier for me,” she admitted when she looked at him again.

  “Maybe it would.” He rested his thumb against the hollow of her throat. “But this isn’t something that’s simply going to happen to you. It’s something we’re doing together. That’s the magic of it. And watching your reactions matters to me, especially the first time we’re together.”

  First time. His words indicated he anticipated this would happen more than once, and that seemed at odds with what she knew about him.

  “I’m going to take off your T-shirt.”r />
  She glanced around. No blinds covered the glass.

  “There aren’t any neighbors close enough to see anything.”

  The few times she’d been with a man, she undressed in the dark. But she didn’t protest when he caught the hem of the T-shirt and drew it up her thighs.

  His touch was sure as he continued, exposing skin, a fraction of an inch at a time.

  “So beautiful.”

  He was a master with his approving tone.

  Braden continued, until he bared her breasts. In the chilly room, her nipples pebbled, and he scraped his nails across them lightly, making her breath catch.

  “Perfect. You’re perfect, Lizzie.”

  She raised her arms as he finished removing the shirt. Still looking at her, he tossed the garment in the direction of the countertop before stripping off her panties.

  Fighting off the instinctive desire to cover herself, she stood there, nerves slamming into her in waves.

  “I’ve thought of this moment.”

  So had she. But in her fantasies, she’d been much more confident.

  “You’re even more exquisite than I imagined.”

  His words not only soothed her, they emboldened her.

  Braden cradled her breasts, then tweaked her nipples. She gasped from the pleasure that surged through her.

  “You’re sensitive?” he asked.

  “Very much so.”

  “In that case, I’ll be gentle with you.”

  “Don’t.” Please. Lizzie had never been bold when it came to asking for what she wanted in the bedroom, but Braden seemed to expect it. “I liked it.”

  “Did you? And this? Tell me if you like this.” His eyes darkened before he lowered his head to lick one of the beaded tips.

  She jerked, then froze. “It’s…”

  “Tell me.”

  How could she describe something she’d never experienced before? “I feel as though I’m vibrating on the inside.”

  “That’s good?”

  “It’s indescribable.”

  “And how’s this?” He sucked on her nipple and slowly increased the pressure until she moaned.

  Immediately he backed off again. She sighed with impatience.

  “So that was pleasure, rather than pain?”

  “It was both.” I think. She couldn’t separate one from the other. All she knew was that she liked it.

  “So you want more? For me to push you a little further?”

  “Yes.”

  Braden started again but this time, when she whimpered, he continued. Her responses overwhelmed her, and she curled her fingers into his shoulders.

  Unthinkingly she moved her hips toward him, and he continued to suck. Shocking her, he moved a hand between her legs to stroke her. Within seconds, an orgasm began to blossom.

  “Are you going to come for me, Lizzie? So quickly?”

  Her last partner had never given her this much attention. Once he ejaculated, he fell asleep. After a few weeks, she lost the little interest she’d had in sex, then, shortly after, the relationship itself.

  “That’s what I want. Come for me.” He eased a finger inside her, then a second alongside it. He moved his hand slightly and pressed against her G-spot.

  With a scream, she came, splintering, falling…

  Moments later, she was wrapped in his arms, safe, secure. And she wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up there.

  It took forever for Lizzie to regain her equilibrium. When she did, she flattened one of her palms against his chest and pushed back a few inches.

  Braden was looking down at her, wearing a wide, silly grin, as if he was proud of himself.

  No one had ever spent that much time focused on her satisfaction. It was unbelievably appealing. Lizzie gave herself a mental shake. She needed to be careful. After all, he’d earned his scandalous reputation, and she was nothing more than an addition to his long list of conquests.

  But right this moment, she didn’t feel that way. Instead, she felt special, and that was addictive.

  “Shall we go upstairs?”

  She had to know, even if she never saw him again after tonight. “Yes.”

  His smile faded, replaced by a flare of possession in his steely gray-blue eyes. Every part of her responded to him, making him potentially lethal to her well-being.

  Right this moment, she was willing to sacrifice her emotions on the altar of his seduction.

  Chapter Four

  Lizzie’s breath threatened to choke her. Once again, she was in his closet, in front of the open drawer. Though the rope intrigued her, she couldn’t make herself reach for it.

  “Anything you’d like to try?” His voice contained nothing but patient encouragement, giving her courage.

  “The… Uhm…”

  He waited.

  Now that she was with Braden, she understood the allure of BDSM. He could offer her the world, and she was eager to experience it. “Can we start with the red tie?”

  “Excellent choice. Please get it for us.”

  She’d expected him to press the button that would slide out the rack, but instead, he waited for her to do what he said. His first command?

  A seductive mix of fear and excitement unfurled in her stomach.

  Even though her finger trembled, she did what he said, then plucked the silky tie from its hook and offered it to him.

  Instead of accepting it right away, he continued to look down at her, overwhelming her. “Please extend your arms, then cross your wrists.”

  Mouth dry, she did so. Only then did he take the tie from her grip.

  “Do you know what a safe word is?”

  “I’ve heard the term.” Standing before him, naked, talking about it as it referred to her—them—unnerved her.

  His gaze was intense, and she couldn’t look away. “Tell me what you know about it.”

  This conversation shouldn’t be difficult. After all, they were going to be intimate in moments. “It’s a word that I say if I’m…” What? She realized she knew so little about BDSM that she wasn’t certain exactly when she might use a safe word. “Scared? Or if something hurts?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “And more. If you use a safe word, our play will stop immediately.”

  Play? It didn’t seem like it to her.

  “For example…” He began to wrap her wrists.

  The bond wasn’t tight, and no doubt she could slip from it if she wanted.

  He tugged it tighter. “Let’s say we’re doing something that you’re into. But then you change your mind. Or something happens mentally, emotionally, or physically… Like you said, you might get scared. Or perhaps remember a bad experience. Or even get a cramp in your body. If your boundaries are pushed, you do not have to keep going. You will never be judged for it. In fact, I will be more upset if you try to push through. I don’t want you harmed in any way.”

  This was far more complex and intriguing than she’d imagined.

  “A lot of people use the word red. And some avoid stop or no. In a scene, the bottom might want to scream no or stop while the—”

  “Bottom?”

  “Ah. Sorry.” He grinned. “A Top is the person who is in the more dominant position for the sake of the scene. The bottom is the person who is submitting. In some relationships, people can be switches, meaning they go back and forth between the roles.”

  This was new to her, and a little confusing. “I thought the terms were Dominant and submissive.”

  “They can be. But the words have meaning, and until you fully offer your submission, I prefer these terms.”

  “How utterly Dominant of you.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” He quirked his eyebrows in a way that was adorable but also mind-blowingly sexy.

  While she was staring at him, he yanked on the tie, and she gasped.

  “Have you selected a word?”

  “I’ll go with red.”

  He tightened it a little more. “Say it.”

  “Now?”

/>   “Yes.”

  “Red,” she whispered, even though she didn’t want to.

  Instantly, he loosened her, setting her free and stroking the tiny marks he’d made. “That’s how it always works. You have my word that I’ll always care for you.”

  “Even if you’re into it?” Why had she even asked that? His explanation had been explicit. “I mean, there are times, right…? Like during sex…”

  “Your needs come before mine. It’s my obligation as a Top to care for you.”

  The idea was new, and thrilling.

  “Is there anything I need to know? Phobias? Things you absolutely wouldn’t want to do?”

  Her brain clouded over. “Honestly? I’m having trouble thinking.”

  “Then we’ll discuss things as we go forward, as we grow together in this relationship.”

  Now she was reeling.

  “Blindfold?”

  Realizing he was staring, waiting for an answer, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear.” She had. She just wasn’t able to process what he said.

  “Are you willing to try a blindfold?”

  A wave of trepidation washed over her. “I’d like to think about it.”

  “Being tied while I ravish you?” He grinned.

  “Ravish?” What an antiquated, illicit way to put it.

  “I intend to do precisely that.”

  Yum. “Being tied sounds interesting.”

  “Spanking?”

  Her knees weakened, and he put a steadying hand beneath her elbow. “Maybe. I… Yes?” Images crashed into her. Being over his lap with her buttocks upturned. Or facedown on the bed with her hands secured and wearing a blindfold. “As long as it’s not too painful. That scares me.”

  “You’re important to me, sweet Lizzie. For me, the point of this is your pleasure.”

  Skepticism made her furrow her eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Most definitely.” Then he smiled in a slow, measured way that bound her to him in a way that ropes or ties could never do. “Don’t misunderstand. Nothing excites me more than the idea of turning you on. Blowing your mind, even.”

  Yes, please. “That sounds like a tall order, Mr. Gallagher.”

  “You’ll be the judge. You have your safe word. In time, you’ll learn to trust me also.”