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Scandalous Billionaire (Titans Book 5)

Page 12

by Sierra Cartwright

Her pulse slowed as she slowly slipped into an alternate universe, one where no one existed other than Braden and the pleasure he brought her.

  His motions were deft as he secured her. Then he gently helped her to sit on the edge of the mattress. “Now I want you on your back.”

  Because her movements were restricted, obeying was a challenge, but once he had her where he requested, he instructed her to part her legs as wide as she could.

  He crossed the room and pulled a chrome spreader bar from his bag. Her rush of nerves receded when she realized it wasn’t very long, meaning her legs wouldn’t be too far apart.

  But he depressed buttons on both ends. She gulped as the wicked thing expanded at least another foot. When would she learn not to underestimate him?

  He tapped the insides of her thighs, indicating he wanted them farther apart.

  She wriggled from the slight discomfort, arching her back as she tried to find a different position.

  “I like watching you writhe. Your nipples are getting even harder. They do that, you know, when you’re in bondage with no hope of escape.” As he spoke, he crouched and tied her ankles to unyielding hooks.

  Even though her struggles were futile, she tugged against the bonds.

  “Glorious.”

  “Should I eat your pussy? Finger-fuck you?”

  From his light tone, she knew he wasn’t asking her opinion. He knew exactly what he was going to do. Instead, he wanted to torment her. And it was working.

  “Perhaps both. But first the flogger.”

  “On my front?”

  “I’d blindfold you, but I want you to watch.”

  She pressed her lips together to smother her instinctive whimper.

  Braden returned to the bag to fetch her favorite flogger. It could sting, but it wasn’t anything like the heavy leather one they’d recently progressed to.

  “How are the bonds?”

  “Fine.” Amazing. The texture was exactly what she imagined. Silky and sensuous, but at the same time strong. A totally different experience than cuffs.

  With exquisitely gentle flicks, he covered her chest, breasts, nipples, rib cage, belly, and pelvis with suede caresses. Then he leaned over to kiss away any sting, driving her mad. He trailed his mouth lower and licked between her labia, just long enough to drive her to the edge of an orgasm.

  “Braden, I—”

  He pulled away to spank her pussy.

  The sensation overwhelmed her, making her needier. “I need…” What? “Harder. Please.”

  Instead of giving her what she wanted, he parted her pussy lips and ate her completely. She jerked helplessly, wanting to grab hold of him and press against his head.

  Before she was ready, he moved away.

  “That’s mean.”

  “Is that a complaint, sub?”

  “Ah…” She thought. Fast. “No. Not at all, Sir.”

  “I thought not.” With zero sympathy he picked up the flogger again.

  This time he wielded it with a little more force, a few of the licks making her sob.

  “I love your sounds. The louder, the better. Keep watching, Lizzie.” With a figure-eight motion, he blazed the insides of her thighs before catching her swollen pussy.

  Though an ache ripped through her, she arched up, begging for more, praying he wouldn’t stop.

  He tossed the implement aside to slide two fingers inside her, parting her wide, seeking and finding her G-spot as he covered her pussy with his mouth.

  Screaming his name, Lizzie climaxed, spiraling into a kaleidoscope of bliss. She stayed there, floating, hardly noticing that her legs were no longer spread so far apart.

  When she finally blinked the world back into focus, Braden was sitting next to her, rubbing her wrists.

  “Welcome back.” He smiled at her.

  Lizzie struggled to sit up, but she didn’t have enough energy.

  “I’ve got you.” He gathered her close, offering his body as the warmth and support she needed.

  For a few more seconds, she gave herself over to the drowsiness, drifting off again.

  When she finally recovered, he moved her to the pillows, then uncapped a water bottle that was on a nightstand. “Have some of this.”

  She took a small drink before handing it back. “That was… I, uhm…liked what we did.”

  “I’m planning to bring our toys on the trip. We’ll have lots of time to explore and enjoy.” He put the bottle back in its place.

  “You’re going to make love to me?” She stroked his still-hard cock.

  “All night, and into tomorrow.”

  As she expected, he took charge, playing with her pussy for a moment to ensure she was ready for him before tucking her beneath his strong body and sinking his cock deep inside her.

  To Lizzie, there was nothing like this. Being with him completed her.

  She met each of his thrusts, reveled in his constant words of love.

  Amazing lover that he was, he gave her orgasm after orgasm before seeking his own release.

  His breathing became more ragged, and his cock seemed impossibly big. She wrapped her arms around his back, digging in her fingertips.

  Then, before he came, he issued a command. “Kiss me.”

  With everything she had to offer, she did. He took it and asked for more, staking his claim.

  “I’ll never let you go.” With a groan from deep inside and a loud “fuck,” he ejaculated, filling her with his hot seed.

  Braden was immobilized for several seconds before he shook his head. “Shit. I’m crushing you.”

  “No.” He wasn’t. If she had her way, he’d stay there for a long time, allowing her to hold him.

  With a long drawn-in breath, he rolled to the side. Instantly he reached for her and tugged her close.

  They stayed there, breathing together for a long time. Eventually he twirled a finger into her hair. “Ready for round two?”

  “What?” She pushed up onto her elbow. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Do you know how long it’s been since we made love?”

  “Less than two minutes.”

  He grinned and smacked her ass.

  “Ouch!” Lizzie swatted his hand away.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “A few days?”

  “Which means I have time to make up for.” He sat up. “But I’m a kind and generous Dom. I’ll give you a few more minutes to recover.”

  “Very kind. Very generous. The best, even.”

  He left the bed, and when he returned he was carrying a warm, damp washcloth and their champagne.

  After he bathed her, he offered her one of the flutes. “To our future.”

  She smiled and angled her glass in his direction. “It looks pretty bright, doesn’t it?”

  “Any chance of an elopement?”

  For the first time, she wasn’t as against the idea. “We can talk about it.”

  He whooped. “I won!”

  With a laugh, she shook her head. “Hold up! I didn’t agree.” Yet. “Your victory lap is a little premature, Sir.”

  “I’ll take whatever I can get and work on getting to yes.” He plucked her untouched drink from her hand and set it aside before nuzzling the side of her neck. “And I think I’ll get started on that fabulous future right now…”

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Scandalous Billionaire! I hope you enjoyed Lizzie and Braden’s story as much as I loved writing it. I also hope you had fun catching up with old friends and meeting some new book boyfriends.

  I invite you to read more about the fascinating and powerful world of the Titans today with a scorching enemies-to-lovers story. Quinn men have been kidnapping O’Malley women for nearly a millennia. And Jack Quinn is no different. He’ll do anything to have Sinead as his. ONE-CLICK DETERMINED BILLIONAIRE

  To find out more about Mason and Hope, order Billionaire’s Matchmaker today! He needs a marriage of convenience. But he doesn’t want just any woman. He wants her
…the woman hired to find him a bride.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Billionaire’s Matchmaker…

  Billionaire’s Matchmaker Excerpt

  Hope Malloy, his matchmaker, projected competence, but her heels and fanciful handbag gave her a feminine air. A sane man would think of her as a vendor or business associate, so he could slot her into the off-limits part of his conscience. She wasn’t a potential date or wife. Or submissive.

  He wanted her.

  She isn’t mine.

  Fuck his conscience.

  Before this ridiculous idea about finding him a woman to marry went any further, she needed to know the truth about him, the side he locked away and kept hidden unless he was at one of his favorite BDSM clubs, the side that Celeste should have informed his matchmaker about.

  Bare inches separated him from Hope, and he halved that distance by leaning toward her. “Is there a place on your fourteen-page questionnaire to discuss sexual proclivities?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” Her knuckles whitened on her purse strap.

  “Let me clarify.” Rafe spoke softly into the thick air between them. “Kinks. Those nasty, scandalous things that people do in the privacy of their own homes. Things they don’t talk about in public. Salacious acts that make them drop to their knees in church as they beg forgiveness. Would you consider that compatibility or chemistry?”

  Tension tightened her shoulders. “Is there something…” Her tone suggested she was trying for professionalism, but her voice cracked on a sharp inhalation.

  After a few more shallow breaths, she ventured, “What do I need to know?”

  “I’m into BDSM.”

  Her beautiful, pouty mouth parted a little.

  An image scorched him—that of him slipping a spider gag between her lips, spreading her mouth and keeping it that way. He’d force her to communicate with her expression and her body, like she was now. “Your eyes are wide, Ms. Malloy. Are you shocked? Interested?” Her soul was reflected in the startling depths. “Curious, perhaps?”

  It took her less than three seconds to close her mouth and regroup. “No. I’m wondering how I should phrase this for your candidates.”

  She’d lied. Instead of meeting his gaze, she stared at the potted plant near the window.

  Rather than unleashing the beast that suddenly wanted to dominate her, he kept his tone even. “I’m sure you’ve had clients who like that sort of thing?”

  Finally, after a breath, she looked at him. “I’ll make some discreet inquiries of the candidates. What is it you’re looking for?”

  He ached to capture her chin and force her to look at him. “How much do you know about BDSM?”

  She pulled back her shoulders, as if on more stable ground. “I’ve heard of it.”

  “No personal experience?”

  “That’s not relevant.”

  Damn her dishonest answer. Some? None? Would he be her first? Could he take her, mold her into what he wanted?

  What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d already decided she was off-limits. “There are as many ways to practice BDSM as there are people in the lifestyle. No relationship is the same.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Mesmerized, he watched the wild flutter of her pulse in her throat. It was like oxygen to a dying man. He wanted more. “Some people prefer to confine their practices to the bedroom—at night, for example. Others, on occasion, indulge at a club or play party. A number of people practice it in varying degrees on a twenty-four-hour basis.”

  “Where do your…proclivities lie?”

  Until now, he hadn’t considered he might want a submissive wife. Over the years, he’d found it easier to go to the club. He was a Dom who would give a sub what she wanted.

  But he’d never allowed himself to think of having a wife that he could call with a list of sensuous instruction. Now, however, with Hope standing there, he couldn’t banish the thought. And since his mother had already squandered a hundred grand on the woman’s matchmaking services, he figured he should be specific in his requests. More, he wanted Hope to know what she was getting into, even if she didn’t yet realize he’d chosen her. “I want my wife to be submissive twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Can you clarify what you mean?” She clenched the handle of her kitty bag, seeming to pretend this was an ordinary conversation with a normal man.

  Rafe captured Hope’s shoulders and pulled her into his office so he could close the door. He held on to her for a whole lot longer than was necessary but not as long as he wanted to. How would she react if he eased his first finger up the delicate column of her throat?

  Would she surrender? Fight the inevitable?

  Forcing himself to resist the driving impulse, he dropped his hands and curled them into fists at his sides.

  “Proclivities,” she prompted.

  The word echoed in his head. “She’ll wear a collar—my collar…” And because he could no longer resist, he traced an index finger across the hollow of her throat. Her pulse fluttered, and her breaths momentarily ceased. “My woman will know that she belongs to me and she will behave as such.”

  Hope’s gaze remained locked on his. When she spoke, her voice wobbled. “And this…collar. She’ll have to wear it all the time?”

  “That’s what twenty-four seven means.” A devilish grin tugged at his lips. He kept his fingertip pressed to her warm skin. “It will be subtle, however. Nothing gaudy. Unless people knew, I doubt they’d think she was wearing anything other than a striking piece of jewelry. But her play collar, the one she wears in private with me or at a lifestyle event, may be different.”

  “Like at a BDSM club or something?” She nodded, as if she were on ground she understood.

  Not that he’d let her stay there long. “I enjoy showing off my sub. There’s a certain restaurant in New Orleans, Vieille Rivière, that she will go to. And a club in the city, also. She will also be expected to join me when I visit people in similar social circles.” Including other Titans. But there was a limit to how much he should tell her. “There are certain things I would want her to go along with. Bondage. Sensory deprivation.”

  “You mean like blindfolds and handcuffs?” There was no hesitation in her words, so he ascertained she’d made sense of what he’d said and decided that fell under the category of typical bedroom shenanigans.

  “Among others, yes. I use blindfolds on occasion. I like gags so that my woman must beg with her eyes. Her tears are like dripping nectar from the gods.”

  Wide-eyed, uncertain, she sucked in a deep, disbelieving breath.

  “I will want to her to wait for me at the end of a long day, on her knees, head tipped back, her beautiful mouth open for me.” He pictured her naked in front of the door, hungry for his touch.

  She retreated a step. “Mr. Sterling, I—”

  “My wife will focus on me and my pleasure.”

  “That sounds rather old-fashioned.”

  “Does it? What you’re not aware of is what I’m willing to do in return.”

  “In return?”

  “I wouldn’t expect a woman to give me everything she has to offer without me giving equal parts of myself. Her wants and desires will be my highest priority. I will give her the heavens if she wants them, the stars, the moon.” He paused. “Then I’ll take her to the depths of hell as she uncovers what sets her depraved soul free.”

  She shuddered.

  “Can you find me all that in a candidate, Ms. Malloy?”

  “You’re rather particular.”

  “Indeed. I require a woman of impeccable breeding who presents her ass for my punishment when she displeases me.”

  The air conditioner kicked on. The whispering cool air did nothing to dissipate the heat between them.

  He slid his hand around to the back of her neck, then feathered his fingers into her hair. “I want to kiss you, Ms. Malloy.”

  “Uhm…”

  “Ask me to.”

  She scowled.

>   “I won’t have you pretending that you’re not curious. When you’re at home this evening, by yourself with a glass of wine, horny and considering masturbating—”

  “That’s not me.” She shook her head so fast it was obviously a desperate lie.

  “No? Ms. Malloy, the room is swimming with your pheromones. Deny it.” She sagged a little against his hand, and he tightened his grip on her hair, as much to offer support as to imprison her. Then he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You’ll remember this moment, fantasize about being mine.”

  “No…”

  “Invite me to kiss you or tell me to release you. The power is yours. Yield to temptation or leave this room wondering if it’s as good as you imagine it will be.”

  “Mr. Sterling, this can’t be happening.”

  Despite her protest, she didn’t try to escape. “I agree. This is the first time I’ve had three women”—four if he counted Celeste—“attempt to force me down the aisle.” He paused. “And it’s the first time I’ve had this kind of sexual longing for an adversary. Ask me to kiss you,” he repeated instead of arguing. “Be sure to say please.”

  “Ah…”

  He loosened his grip, and she leaned toward him, keeping herself hostage. Rafe didn’t smile with triumph.

  “Kiss me.”

  “There’s nothing I’d enjoy more.” That wasn’t the entire truth. There were a hundred things he’d like to do to her, but he made no move

  Her internal standoff lasted longer than he thought it would. Excellent. She had a stubborn streak.

  Hope glanced away and sighed. Then she looked at him with clear, confident eyes. “Please kiss me.”

  He could drown in her and be happy about it. He captured her chin to hold her steady. On her lips, he tasted the sweetness of her capitulation. “Open your mouth, sweet Hope.”

  She did, and he entered her mouth, slower than he would ordinarily, softer than he would if she were his submissive.

  Hope responded with hesitation, and he continued, driving deeper, seeking more. Within seconds, she yielded.

  She moaned and raised onto her tiptoes to lean into him. A few seconds beyond that, she wrapped her arms around him. Hope, his adversary, had now become his willing captive.

 

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