by Cynthia Dane
“I’m not sure what there is to say.” Jasmine was aware that he was staring at her, both in curiosity and possibly arousal. No, there was nothing about his body that insinuated that he was about to jump her bones at any moment. But Jasmine knew why she was here. “You also already know everything there is to know about me. I’m nobody special.”
Ethan frowned. It was not a good look on him. “I remember seeing on your résumé that you majored in history. What was your focus of study? While I would not consider myself a scholar of such matters, I can’t lie, I enjoy watching the History Channel now and again.”
Oh, good, so he knows all about the alien invasions of the past few millennia. “American history, if you must know. You’ll be especially amused to know that I wrote one of my term papers about the barons of the turn-of-the-century.”
“Really? Would it in turn amuse you to know that one topic that comes up in many of my meetings is who our favorite barons are? Everyone chooses Ford or Rockefeller. They think it makes them sound altruistic. But I think they were all scum.” He said it so assuredly and clearly did not want Jasmine to challenge him.
He asked her a few more questions, all of them ranging from her favorite color to one of her fondest memories. The answers she gave were short, sweet, and simple. As these conversations went on, however, she began to shake, and within time her red skirt became bunched up in the sweaty palms of her hands. Every so often Ethan would look at this, and not say anything other than to ask her another question about her and her life.
Finally, he set aside his empty champagne glass and asked her point blank, “Are you nervous around me, Miss Bliss?”
Jasmine did not know how to respond. She did not want to lie and say that she wasn’t nervous, but she also did not want to appear weak. So she didn’t say anything at all.
“I won’t ask why you’re nervous. I won’t pretend I don’t know why. But I want you to know I don’t expect anything out of you that you wouldn’t be willing to give yourself. You’re welcome to leave this place whenever it feels right to you.”
Jasmine didn’t want to give this man cookies for saying exactly what he should have. I can’t deny that it makes me feel better. Still, it would not sate her nerves. “Thank you.” An odd thing to say, but she wanted him to know that she appreciated him being a decent man in this moment.
Ethan stood up, shook out his sleeves, and turned in the other direction. “I need to make a quick call. While I’m gone, feel free to do whatever you want. I won’t be offended if you leave.” He pulled out his cell phone and went into another room, quietly closing the door behind him.
So here Jasmine was, trying to decide what she was going to do in this situation. When she decided to go on this date with Ethan, she had no idea how it was going to turn out. She was ready to walk out whenever she wanted. After all, it didn’t matter how much money he threw at her, if he seemed like a sleazebag she was going to leave. Jasmine had long reconciled that she definitely had a price, but wasn’t going to put up her mental or physical health against that wall.
Do I want him? Do I like him? Those thoughts swam in her head for the better length of a minute. No matter how many times she played out the situation in her mind, nothing could have prepared her for the actual reality. She was in Ethan Cole’s penthouse, and there was only one real reason he had invited her there.
Jasmine got off the couch and tried to distract herself with what was on the walls. They were simple scenery paintings, depicting a normal rural and rustic life from an age long gone by. There were also paintings of flowers, and at first Jasmine thought them strange to be hanging in a businessman’s home. Perhaps they were hung up there by his last “girlfriend,” and he never bothered to take them down again. They were colorful, vibrant, and perhaps even radiant when not viewed by a woman who was about to lose her mind.
Said mind was definitely lost when a pair of arms attempted to wrap around her. Jasmine jumped and squawked in fright, her elbows pushing against the man behind her.
If Ethan was offended, he did not let it show. Perhaps he knew that this would be the reaction he got. But before Jasmine could accuse him of something nefarious, she saw a string of gold hanging from his right hand. “I’m sorry for startling you.” Ethan held up the gold chain. But it wasn’t just a gold chain: dangling from the center, pulled by gravity, was a teardrop red ruby. Jasmine gasped for many reasons, but mostly because she knew that was meant for her. “I wanted to give you something, yet I didn’t think this through. Please, turn around.”
Jasmine did as he asked, turning to that floral painting and pulling her hair off to the side. What am I doing? Accepting such a thing from a stranger? On a first date! What kind of woman was Jasmine setting herself up to be if this was how she now conducted her business relationships? There was no time to ponder this, for Ethan reached around her once more and placed the teardrop ruby on her chest. It settled there nicely, firmly clasping behind her neck.
Ethan stepped away from her. Jasmine gazed at her minimal reflection in the painting, amazed that such a small trinket could make her feel so dirty inside.
“I can’t accept this.” Jasmine touched the ruby anyway so she could say she knew what one felt like. “I can’t.”
“Why not? It looks beautiful on you. I saw it back there and knew you had to have it, because it matched the color of your dress.”
See, this is why I can’t accept this. This is a man who goes into his bedroom, sees something as precious as this, and gives it to the woman he’s on a first date with. Suffice to say, Jasmine had never received a trinket like this before. “This didn’t belong to your ex, did it?”
“I don’t know where it came from. Perhaps I bought it for someone else and then never gave it to them. I’m sorry if it offends you. If you really don’t want it, I’ll take it back.”
Jasmine didn’t say anything once again. She kept finding herself powerless in front of this man. Perhaps she was afraid of offending him. But deep inside, she knew. She couldn’t put it into words, but she knew it wouldn’t mean anything good for her reputation.
Two hands became acquainted with her two shoulders. Jasmine froze, but she did not protest. Soon she felt his breath on her neck. Feeling him so close only made her weaker.
Never had Jasmine considered herself a prude. Although she always had a relaxed attitude toward sex, she never indulged in it as much as she wanted. She blamed her hippie parents. The sort of people who change their last name to Bliss. I don’t feel so blissful right now. God knew she wanted to. It seems so wrong. This man wanted to give her money to be in a relationship with him. A ridiculous amount of money. Jasmine only had to say the word and she would soon be stinking rich like him. But at what true cost? Besides, tonight they were only getting to know one another. There was no money — other than the stupid ruby necklace – and as far as the universe knew, Jasmine was merely on a first date with a handsome stranger.
Yet she admitted that it went against everything she ever knew about herself. Her morals. But the closer his breath got to her skin, and the tighter his arms wrapped around her waist, Jasmine was starting to see his side of things. Things like sex.
Dear God… Her knees began to buckle as Ethan’s hands gently caressed her arms draping in front of her. Have mercy on me. I’m going in.
By going in, she meant going farther into Ethan’s embrace as his body wrapped around her and nearly overtook her sanity.
He began with a soft kiss to the shoulder. Although her skin was not bare there, Jasmine could feel the intent of his action as it pushed against her flesh and threatened to nip the ruby necklace right off her throat. His hands remained on her abdomen, although his fingers dug into her and wanted to lift her skirt. That wasn’t all he wanted. As Jasmine was absorbed into his embrace, she felt him press into her rear, a small grunt uttering from his throat.
She didn’t want to admit it, but that sensation awoke her, collecting every small piece
of herself into the center of her being.
“Forgive me, Miss Bliss.” Ethan’s voice had dropped an octave and acquired a smooth grain to it. The kind of voice that would usually send Jasmine straight to her bed for some alone time if she heard it in a song or on TV. “I seem to be completely caught up. May I?” His fingers played with the hem of her dress, slowly ascending her thigh. “Nothing too much… yet.”
That meant there was plenty to come if Jasmine so willed it. For a man who wanted a sub, he was willing to let her call the shots. What shots Jasmine wanted to call right now remained to be seen. She wasn’t even sure herself. Or at least until Ethan placed his lips on her neck, his other hand tugging on the bust of her dress. He was all around her, fighting back his desperation to undress her, to see what she kept beneath shoddy rags.
The skirt pulled up and hiked above Jasmine’s waist. Amazingly she did not feel exposed, nor was she self-conscious of what she kept there. The only thing she could focus on was what pressed through Ethan’s trousers. Jasmine shifted her legs open without even realizing it at first. Nor did she hear the terse moan escaping her lips until it echoed in the room.
Ethan continued to push their initial boundaries by squeezing her midsection and fingering the elastic of her lingerie. Jasmine wanted to lean back against his shoulder, but he tilted her torso forward and thrust against her hip.
The man hadn’t even kissed her yet, but he was already giving her precious jewels and trying to take something in return. For a moment Jasmine panicked. After all, this was an absurd situation. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window that overlooked the city skyline. Hundreds of thousands of people in their homes and offices. Some of them wanting to relax while others had late nights at work. And here Jasmine was, halfway bent over in the air, with her skirt over her ass, and a billionaire dry thrusting against her. The most surprising thing wasn’t that she was okay with it, but that the man managed to get even harder.
Was this it? Was he going to spend himself on her this way? Or was he merely testing her versatility? What was it that men of power wanted from their submissive women? To know that they could mold her in any position they wanted? That she would like it? In all honesty, she was surprised that he had yet to ask her to drop her knees and suck his cock. Maybe that came with the contract.
“Miss Bliss…”
“Please,” somewhere, in the midst of this, Jasmine managed to find her voice, “call me Jasmine.” She wanted more than anything to hear him say her name in that voice.
“Only if you call me Ethan.” He lifted her back up and placed both his hands on her breasts, squeezing them through her dress. Jasmine gasped, the little ruby of her new necklace disappearing into her cleavage. “Jasmine.”
It sounded just as good as she expected, rolling off his tongue and summoning the arousal from within her. The J in her name had a sharp edge to it, almost as if he were mocking her. But the last part was softer. A whimper. Do I do this to him? Jasmine was a simple woman in the realm of the world. Pretty. Smart. Funny. Three words of empty meaning lots of men and other women liked to placate her with. What did they really mean? Did Ethan think in those terms?
Whatever he thought was soon lost to the universe, for he turned Jasmine’s head back and kissed her lips, the passion rocking right from his.
Within the moment she was turned in his arms, fighting to loop her own around his shoulders and pull herself up so she could kiss him more fitfully. The world was becoming hazier, as if they stood in a labyrinth and had given up finding the way out. No longer did she think of him in terms of his money, or even his good looks. She didn’t even notice at first that his fine Italian suit was wrinkling as she begged him to kiss her over and over again. His lips traveled from hers to her throat, stopping only for a moment to take a breath and let his tongue crawl along her skin. Jasmine let out a whimper of acquiescence, inciting Ethan to kiss her lips again and let his tongue mingle with hers.
His hands were all over her, exploring the curves of her waist, hips, and ass. He could squeeze her there all he wanted. Jasmine was quickly losing herself to arousal, and even if they went their separate ways after this night, she hoped that it would at least be one to remember.
It certainly reached that point when Ethan pulled down the elastic of her lingerie and took the rest of it as well. Jasmine felt the silk fall down her legs and pool at her feet. She was bare beneath her skirt now, and if Ethan put his hand there she would not protest. Do it! Do it now!
Without warning Ethan hoisted her up and moved her to an end table along the wall. Her back smacked against one of the floral paintings, but Jasmine couldn’t care, for Ethan Cole’s tongue was wrapping around the ruby of the necklace, letting it settle in his folds and play against the tip. Oh my God, get between my legs! She didn’t doubt it. She didn’t doubt that this man was deliberately doing that to make her think of his tongue massaging her clit.
When he had his fill of taunting her, Ethan ripped down the front of her red dress and let his tongue roll over her nipple before it even hit the air.
She clasped her hand behind his head and brought him forward, moaning as the world turned dark before her. Her eyes would not open. In this moment she was only aware of Ethan savoring her breasts as if they were the most perfect pair he had ever encountered. That had to be false. A man like him could have any woman he wanted on his travels. Women with perfect breasts and nipples made for passing between his lips. If they didn’t, he could buy them for them. In comparison Jasmine’s were more modest, although she did not voice these opinions as he grunted against her sensitive tips and eased her legs open.
This is it. It was happening so fast. Soon enough Jasmine would hear that zipper drop and say goodbye to being able to say she had never been fucked by a billionaire. Don’t leave me waiting, asshole! Only inside her head could Jasmine be so demanding.
But Ethan didn’t drop his zipper or even dry thrust against her again. To her surprise, Ethan Cole sank to his knees, wrapped his arms beneath her thighs, and brought her hips forward to meet his mouth.
“Holy shit!” That masterful tongue was on a place that actually mattered now, parting her folds and sampling the innermost part of her. Jasmine’s hand took a chunk of his immaculate hair as she tried to get his face to come closer. A billionaire is eating me out! That intruding thought threw her out of the moment and made her realize that she was in a penthouse suite in the middle of the city… some strange man’s living room where she had her legs spread and begged for him to make her come… that very man breathing heavily against her skin as his eyes gazed up adoringly at her. Oh, he was good. Very good. Jasmine almost believed that Ethan Cole, the richest man around, was actually in love with her and wanted to only bring her carnal bliss.
Well damn if it wasn’t working!
A long, hearty cry burst from Jasmine as she leaned against the wall and slammed her eyes shut. One foot drew up against the end table, her shoe falling off her toes and clattering to the floor. Ethan’s tongue flicked against her for a moment and then came in long, long drawls that felt like he owned her flesh and skin. The best part was when he pushed his tongue back and teased the entrance to her center. She swore to God it was big enough to bring her pleasure alone.
He went faster now, his hands squeezing her thighs and his mouth urgently pressing against her. He wants me to come. Jasmine opened her eyes and looked out those expansive windows again, wondering how many women – hell, people! – would be jealous to know that it was her getting this treatment from one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. And to know that this was his first move… Jasmine had been so sure that he would want to get it in her as quickly as possible. To use her, not that she would have minded for one night. Maybe that was still his goal. But at least he had the courtesy to make sure she was pleased, relaxed, and ready to accept him inside her. Jasmine couldn’t think of a single date of hers before that thought to do such a thing. And he’s damn good
at it too. Sweet, sweet salvation she was going to…
Ethan stopped, or at least came to a slow stop. When Jasmine looked back down at him, despondent, she could only see the corners of his eyes pulling into a haughty satisfaction that said this had been his plan all along. The devious bastard.
He gave the inside of her thigh a heavy kiss and backed away, standing with his eyes locked tight to her body. Jasmine could feel the height of her arousal now, centering in her core and nearly embarrassing her – or it would if Ethan hadn’t been down there to find out for himself.
“Jasmine.” Both syllables were soft, although that man must be seriously straining against his trousers by now. “Let me give you a taste of what I have in mind for us.”
“For us.” It wasn’t about him. Or if it was, he would at least build up the illusion that it was partly about her as well. He’s charming. Too suave. Jasmine fought against her hormones to remind herself that this was not love. This wasn’t anything more than trial sex to see if they really wanted to make an arrangement for a limited time.