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His Lust (By His Command #6) (billionaire domination / erotic romance)

Page 3

by Ana W. Fawkes


  I shifted more towards him. The only special place I needed to be was in his arms.

  “Did I ever tell you, Isabella Grace, what my favorite part of business is?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “It never ends. It’s never over. There’s no peak. There’s no stopping. There’s goals, dreams even, for those who in live that kind of world, but there’s no limit. A man can set a goal to make a million, make a billion, start a company, buy a company, whatever he wants. And when he gets it, it’s not enough. There’s more to get. More to achieve. Even for a man who is filthy rich, with the capabilities to do anything, there’s always more.” Jonathan looked down at me. “Always.”

  I smiled.

  “Look at you,” he said. His left hand touched my face. His gentle touch sent waves of warmth up and down my body. “There’s always more, even with you. More to explore. More to taste. More to have. Maybe that’s even the beauty of life, right? There’s always more... until it’s gone.”

  “You just said there’s no limit,” I said.

  “In business, yes. But in life, there is one limit. Death.”

  The word took me back to the cell phone. To the cabin in the mountains. To the hotel room where Oliver Rush took his dying breath staring Jonathan Black in the eyes.

  “Death,” Jonathan said. “There’s power in death because it’s not only real, it can’t be undone. It’s a split second decision... to give, to take...”

  He spoke like a murderer, and he was. A beautiful murderer. A man who would do anything to protect me.

  The limo stopped in the front of a tall building. Jonathan’s hotel. The hotel was named Black, how fitting. The awning stretched from the entrance to the curb, a black awning with gold lettering. Someone opened the door for us and a man stuck his hand into the limo, wanting me to take it.

  I looked at Jonathan and he nodded.

  I stepped from the limo first and stood, looking around a busy sidewalk. The sounds and smells of the city were opposite to the desolate feeling in the mountains. There I saw mountains running into mountains, creating an endless feeling of life. Here I saw people running into people. It should have made me feel more alive, with so much life around me, but it didn’t. My mind told me that any one of these people could be ‘K’, ready to take my life. Ready to take Jonathan’s life.

  Jonathan stepped from the limo next and adjusted his suit jacket, followed by his tie. Two men came running up to him, talking to him about the bank, financials, one handing him a newspaper.

  Jonathan read the headline of an article and then folded the paper and slapped it against the man’s chest.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the man said. “I thought you would like to see...”

  “I can’t control what my father does,” Jonathan said.

  I heard the sound of cameras then and realized that a few people started to snap pictures. Then everything started happening faster by the second. Someone pushing through the crowd with a small microphone. Another with a tape recorder, their arm outstretched. More cameras. People shouting to Jonathan. People asking questions.

  I froze as I watched the whirlwind of media turn into a violent storm.

  People bounced and pushed off each other, all wanting to get close to Jonathan to hear him speak.

  Jonathan reached back with one hand and found my wrist. He pulled and I went with him.

  I tried to not hear the questions, but I couldn’t help it...

  “Mr. Black! Your father has been charged with double homicide, your thoughts?”

  “Mr. Black... is it true you were there during the murder of Peter Cresh?”

  “Did the murder of Peter Cresh have any doing with your involvement in the company....”

  “...you financing in question...”

  “... blood on you...”

  “... Oliver Rush stole...”

  “... a failed project, what can this mean...”

  There was so much shouting, and it only grew louder as we walked closer to the door. I felt people trying to touch me so I put my head down. Jonathan’s people started to shout back at the media, wanting them out of the way and out of the city.

  Once inside the hotel, we were taken to the elevator where when the doors opened, a man stood with a camera, snapping another picture of us. I didn’t like the feeling of it at all.

  The reporter thought he was being savvy, but Jonathan wasn’t having it. He let me go and grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and forced him back until he crashed to the back wall of the elevator.

  “Let’s go,” Jonathan growled.

  I stepped into the elevator and Jonathan told me to press the button for the basement.

  The doors shut and Jonathan stood there, staring at the reporter.

  “Mr. Black... your father...”

  “... is a troubled man,” Jonathan said in a calm voice.

  “He’s murdered two men.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Were you there to witness it?”

  “I’m standing right here,” Jonathan said.

  “Does this have anything to do with your financing deal with...”

  “Would that matter?”

  “Considering your history,” the reporter said. He looked down, wanting to get to the piece of paper in his pocket. “You had an altercation once...”

  “I appreciate your concern,” Jonathan said. “I hope you don’t mind, but you’re going to have to leave now.”

  Jonathan swung the man around. All I could picture was the reporter smashing against the elevator doors. And then what? What would Jonathan do? The man had a camera. The man had resources. It was a huge break when Jonathan’s father took the blame for murdering two men, but this could be where the luck ran dry.

  As he swung the man around, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  Jonathan somehow timed it perfectly.

  The doors opened as Jonathan placed the man outside the elevator. It wasn’t violent. The man didn’t fall. Jonathan even patted the man’s jacket, making sure he looked good.

  “Thank you for coming,” Jonathan said and smiled.

  The doors started to close and the reporter took one more picture.

  When the elevator started to move again, I felt my body shaking.

  “Come here,” Jonathan said and wrapped an arm around me. “Don’t mind the world, Isabella Grace. It just wants to know everything about me.”

  “I didn’t realize...”

  “I didn’t expect you to realize a thing,” Jonathan said. “That’s why I’m showing you everything. Now, when we get to our room, I expect you to be dressed and ready in one hour. We’re going to dinner. Then I’m going to take you to bed.”

  -5-

  For the first time since being with Jonathan Black, I wasn't in some sort of awe when he showed me something new. I already conjured an image of what his personal hotel room would look like, after I saw the gold plate next to the door with his name on it. It was everything and more.

  Larger than what some people would consider to be their homes, the hotel room had quite literally everything inside it. It looked more like a luxury apartment and that was fine with me, I'd prefer it that way. It felt like a home and I needed that at that moment.

  The farthest wall in the hotel room had a window that ran floor to ceiling. It was a small window, odd looking, but when Jonathan walked and stood there, it made sense. It was Jonathan's personal way of looking out to the city. He waved me to come to him and I did. He placed me in front of him and told me to put my hands on the glass.

  "Look out there," Jonathan said. "Look at the lights. The life."

  "It's beautiful," I said.

  And it was. Better than being up on that snowy mountain with John Black.

  "I'm showing you this, Isabella Grace because I want it all. Everything out there will be mine. Everything in front of me, forever."

  Jonathan moved closer to me and I saw the faint reflection of him in the glas
s. It wasn't just the world out there that he wanted. He wanted me. Forever.

  I would never argue it.

  "I didn't know you had a meeting tomorrow," I said.

  "I have meetings all the time."

  "Is this one important?"

  "They all are, in their own timeframe. Right now, my biggest meeting is with you. We're going to eat in my restaurant downstairs. Dress pretty, clothes are in the closet."

  I realized our bags hadn't arrived yet. It made me nervous. I needed the cell phone. I needed to check. I needed to figure something out. And soon. Jonathan’s mind was at a back-to-normal routine right now and the last thing I wanted was another scenario that involved murder.

  There were two walk-in closets in the bedroom, one for Jonathan, one for myself. When I opened the door to mine, there were three dresses. Black. Hunter green. Blue. They were sparkly, beautiful, and really skinny. Something I would never wear or would ever dream to wear. I touched the black one and I couldn’t imagine the price tag that came with the dresses.

  Besides that there were three pairs of heels, some regular shoes, and an undergarment section filled with matching bras and panties. Not that there was much cloth to the panties. When I held up one of the thongs, I felt myself blushing, even in the comfort of my own privacy.

  Jonathan certainly knew how to play with my mood... one second I’m worried about someone trying to kill him and the next I’m feeling beautiful as I look at the dresses. Then the next I’m holding a thong and my body is heating up, wishing we could skip dinner and just get to the bed part of the night.

  I chose the black dress because it was first in line. Something told me that everything had been placed in the closet for a purpose and on purpose.

  I was right.

  Jonathan Black stood at the window with his hands in his pockets. He must have saw me in the window because he turned before I could say a word. His eyes lit up in a way suggesting he enjoyed me in the black dress. He wore a different suit, darker. His tie was a rich smoky grey, captivating his face and eyes as he stared at me. I wanted to tear my own dress off. My appetite was on fire and it wasn’t just for food. I’m sure we could have ordered room service, but Jonathan wanted to go to his restaurant.

  “You look perfect,” Jonathan said. He walked towards me slowly, his eyes moving up and down my body.

  He stopped before me and touched my face. He looked happy, satisfied. It was nice to see. I could tell he preferred to be here, in the hotel room, in the city. Closer to his business, closer to his money. It was safer with the bright lights of the city, even in the dark.

  But within that darkness and within the brightness of the lights, I still thought about the text messages. And all of this was a result of three billion dollars. An astronomical number to the average person, but for Jonathan, they were just numbers. The money Oliver Rush had taken. The money his father then hid. The money Peter Cresh felt he deserved. And now... ‘K’.

  “What are you thinking, Isabella Grace?”

  “About you,” I replied. That wasn’t a lie, either. How could I stop thinking about Jonathan Black?

  “Keep your mind right there then,” he said. “Come.”

  He turned and put his hand out for me. I took it and we left the hotel room.

  An escort met us at the elevators. A man with a white mustache who had no problem telling both Jonathan and myself we looked amazing.

  The restaurant was at the back of the hotel. A line of people waited outside, all dressed up, all waiting their turn. At the sight of Jonathan, the host dropped everything he was doing and took us to a table. I looked over my shoulder at the people waiting and enjoyed it. I felt special, and it felt good to feel special.

  We sat and Jonathan did all the ordering.

  I looked around, realizing we were sort of in the open. Mixed in with the general public, those who wanted to savor the food that Jonathan’s restaurant cooked.

  “You look surprised,” Jonathan said.

  “I am. I thought we would be in private.”

  “Maybe we are,” Jonathan said. He smiled and then started to look around the restaurant.

  He acted different, strange for a minute or so, as if he expected something to happen.

  Nothing did.

  When our food came, we ate, and he spoke.

  “I’m meeting the top banker in the city tomorrow. He holds power that someone like himself should have. He can create, destroy, and enjoy himself. Or so he believes. He’s the final say on a new financing venture I’m getting to handle more international expansion. I’ve been approved already, it’s just that he decided to call a special meeting between he and I.”

  “Trying to scare you?”

  Jonathan laughed. He leaned forward and stared at me. His eyes were deep but honest. “Nothing scares me, Isbaella Grace. Nothing.” He leaned back and exhaled a breath. “Kellen is just another jealous person, who thinks they can figure something out about me. I’m sure he’ll ask questions about what happened...”

  I nodded. I really didn’t want to bring up old topics. Not right now.

  “This is a beautiful place, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It is. I can’t believe how busy it is.”

  “It’s always like this,” Jonathan said. “When you taste something you desire, you just can’t stop. Isn’t that right?”

  My cheeks flushed. Again he moved subject to subject flawlessly.

  The rest of our dinner was basically in silence. It left me wondering what exactly the purpose of the dinner was. I didn’t dare ask because Jonathan still looked calm and satisfied. His mind was obviously working a mile a minute but the intense anger and rage was long gone.

  Dinner ended when he stood and put his hand out for me. I stood and he pulled, bringing me close to his chest. The rest of the restaurant buzzed with its own soundtrack including the soft murmur of people, the occasional laugh, the clanking of glasses. But none of it matter as much as Jonathan’s hold on me.

  “Would you like to come back here soon?” he asked.

  I wasn’t used to questions. I froze for a second and then nodded. “Yes. The food was perfect.”

  “Good girl,” Jonathan said. “Now let’s get you out of that dress.”

  I smiled, my body already aching for him. But as he turned and led me through the restaurant, the sense of royalty fell from me, bringing on the weight of the world. I stumbled, and when Jonathan looked, I blamed my heels.

  Everything attacked me at once.

  Jonathan had a meeting tomorrow. A financial meeting. With a man named Kellen.

  Kellen.

  K...

  -6-

  We were finally in bed. I had to move and work under the careful guidance of Jonathan Black. From the second he opened the hotel room door to the second he pulled the soft comforter up over my shoulder, my head and heart were locked in a battle like I never thought possible.

  Matters only grew worse when I saw that my bag had been delivered and placed in the walk-in closet. Jonathan instructed me to get out of the dress before he tore it to shreds off my body, leaving me with nothing to wear but a pair of bra and panties. They were, in my opinion, the perfect kind of pajamas to wear for the night.

  I looked in the bag and saw the phone but heard Jonathan moving before I could look at it.

  When we were in bed and the hotel room fell silent, the long day and evening starting to wash off our bodies and minds, all I could think about was the cell phone.

  The text messages.

  From someone named ‘K’.

  ‘K’ as in... Kellen?

  It made sense, as much as I hated to believe it.

  Jonathan made it obvious that he and Kellen didn’t get along. Kellen held the ability to ruin some kind of financial deal for Jonathan.

  It all started to make sense.

  Jonathan’s strong hand rested on my shoulder. His reminder that he was there.

  “Isabella Grace, I’m going to slip your panties off,” he
whispered.

  I moaned.

  Nothing like the sweet whispering domination of Jonathan Black late at night.

  His hand left my shoulder and touched my hip, right at the start of the panties. He moved as said, keeping along my leg. I moved as needed to make sure he could take the panties off.

  I tried to roll to my back, wanting to open my legs for Jonathan but he stopped me.

  “No,” he said. “Stay where you are.”

  His voice changed, sounding somber, cold, even dry.

  His hand ran up my leg, back to my hip but this time, he moved to the inside. His hand squeezed and pulled, forcing my leg up. I bent my knee, keeping my legs open for him. It was a strange position but definitely hot.

  When his fingers touched my tender folds, my body jumped. I put my hand to the edge of the bed and gripped it, readying myself. I turned my head a little and Jonathan stopped me. I wasn’t allowed to look at him either. His fingers left my body and a few seconds later, he placed himself against me. The thickness of his sex never failed to amaze me. He pushed himself into me, placing his fingers to the bottom of his shaft. I opened for him, stretching my legs and letting my body and sexual desires do the rest. From the extreme angle we were at, I felt Jonathan in a whole new light. I couldn’t help being tight, but that didn’t stop him from gaining access.

  Once he penetrated me enough that he could thrust the rest of the way into me, his fingers touched my sensitive clitoris. I started to rock my hips, adding more pressure to my sex. Jonathan made circles with his finger as he pumped himself deeper into me. His cock felt extra thick, longer, and he moved with a wild force.

  His hand moved back to my shoulder, followed by his other hand to my other shoulder. He pushed me down as he thrust, forcing my body tighter against him. The sex was intense and hot, the movements not calculated, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes slow. No matter what, I could feel the passion pouring out of Jonathan’s body as he moved in and out of me. His body heat collided with mine. When his chest touched my back, I could feel his sweat. I moaned and pumped at him. I wanted to look over my shoulder but I wasn’t allowed to.

  Jonathan grunted and put his lips to my ear.

 

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