The Billionaire's Contract 3: Aftermath
By
Alicia Roberts
The Billionaire's Contract 3: Aftermath
Copyright 2012 by Alicia Roberts
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Adult Reading Material
Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and above.
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The Billionaire's Contract 3: Aftermath
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Alexis settles into life as Brad's "contract wife", but money and glamour aren't enough for her: she's decided to accept her feelings and try to win Brad over. But how?
Alexis can't figure it out, and before she knows it, Naomi moves into Brad's townhouse as his "night manager", making things even more difficult for her.
Chapter One
The wedding was rushed, and it was over before I knew it.
Brad and I both agreed that the sooner we got married, the sooner the year would be over. Neither of us wanted a big party. The only people I would have invited were my distant relatives - they truly wanted the best for me and would probably be thrilled at my marriage. I didn't want to get their hopes up and dash them after a year.
Brad had his own reasons for avoiding a big wedding, and I knew it had to do with evading the spotlight as much as possible, and trying to minimize the amount of play-acting we'd both have to do in public. Instead of inviting guests, we'd decided to send them cards after the event, effectively announcing, "Hey, we got married!"
The wedding itself was held in Brad's townhouse. A minister came over to read the vows. George Neilson, my former boss and Brad's lawyer, was the witness. Eva was also there - I'd learnt that Brad had known her for so long, he trusted her completely. I couldn't say I was surprised, since I liked Eva myself and thought she was smart and down-to-earth.
Once the vows were read, we had some tea and scones, and George, the minister and Eva went home.
There had been a moment minutes before the ceremony, when I'd panicked. Everyone was downstairs waiting for me, and all I had to do was slip on my black dress and join them. But thoughts of real life and possibilities had flooded into my head, and I'd wondered how I could possibly commit such a serious deception. I remembered my mother, who'd raised me alone as a single woman, and I felt deep in my heart that I was letting her down.
But when I heard Eva knocking on the door to check if I was ok, the moment passed and I slipped the short black dress over my white bridal lingerie, reminding myself that this marriage was just a career move.
Of course, the thought that this was just a career move left my head soon after Brad and I came home from our celebratory dinner that night. When we were inside the house again, and I was about to step into the bedroom, Brad held my hand and pulled me back.
When he locked my fingers inside his palm, I felt the electricity travel up my arm and through my spine. I looked into his eyes and saw he was smiling at me, and I saw the desire in his face. Those blue eyes pierced mine with their depth and longing, and he put his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.
I arched my back against him, anticipating his warm lips, my own lips parting slightly in expectation. I was breathing deeply as he bent down, bringing his face nearer to mine. His tongue traced my lower lip, before he moved forward another inch and let his lips crush against my own. Our tongues lashed against each other, and I felt my knees weaken.
When he moved away, I breathed in deeply. His hands left my waist and held my face steady between them as he looked at me briefly. I felt one hand move back, grazing my ear and finding that sensitive spot on the back of my neck. It travelled downwards slowly, inching along my spine, and wrapped itself around my waist.
Before I knew it, Brad had hooked his other arm below my knees and lifted me up in his arms.
"Congratulations, Mrs Reinehart," he said, as he carried me through the door and laid me on the bed. "I hope you'll enjoy your wedding night."
He grinned at me briefly, and went to lock the door. Of course, no-one else was at home, but that motion made my stomach do knots and I waited as he took his time locking the door.
Finally, he turned around and I watched him as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, standing bare-chested in his jeans. He removed his shoes and walked over to the bed, placing a hand on my shoulder. My eyes followed his fingers as they trailed down my arm to my wrist, which he lifted up and kissed gently.
His scent was warm and oceanic, and just being near him made me want to strip naked and throw him on the floor. But instead, I waited, breathing deeply, as he took his time with me.
He placed his hands on my shoulders again, and let them travel down to the sides of my breasts. I wanted him to lift them up, squeeze them, pinch my nipples… but he did nothing. I placed my hands on top of his and whimpered softly in disappointment and desire.
He smiled at my distress, pleased at my reaction, knowing that I was completely aroused and wanting more. "Take off your dress," he commanded.
I reached behind to my back and undid the zip. I wriggled my arms out, and slid the dress down my torso, exposing my breasts in their white lace bra. Brad drank in the sight of my breasts jiggling as I slid the dress down, exposing my bare stomach, and then my white lace-front panties. I was wearing stockings held up by garter belts, and I slid my legs out of the dress, kicking it off the bed.
Brad leaned over and began kissing my neck, running his lips up and down. I felt the electricity coursing down my spine, and I moaned softly, while Brad's hands slipped behind my back and unhooked my bra. I felt it being slid over my arms and suddenly I was exposed to him, my nipples hardening even before his lips touched them.
He took his time, running his fingers over my breasts in soft, concentric circles, till he reached my erect, expectant nipples. I cried softly in delight as his fingers captured my nipples, squeezing them, twisting gently.
I began to moan hoarsely, begging him to suck on my nipples, to take my tits in his mouth. He smiled as I started to lose control, and then finally his head dipped towards my breast and I breathed deeply in expectation.
His teeth clamped down tight on my nipple, and I squealed in pain, trying to push his head off, and then groaning in delight as he took my hard nipple between his lips and started to suck roughly.
I felt myself growing wetter with desire, and my breath had become fast and loud. Brad began to play with my garter straps and pulled my stockings off. The cool air felt good on my thighs, and he ran his fingers up them. I felt him hook his thumbs under the waist of my panties, and pull them down. My smooth mound was now exposed and I felt everything inside me tighten and clamp down in excitement.
Once my panties were off, Brad pushed my thighs apart and positioned himself between my spread-eagled legs. I saw him smile as he started to stroke my wet, engorged lips, parting them and pressing firmly as he moved up and down. I saw his head dip, and then I felt his tongue on my wet opening, pushing my lips apart, licking me up greedily.
My juices were dripping all over his mouth, and I felt his tongue move away and a finger pressed inside me. It pushed in and out and toyed with me, making me writhe in delight. I felt another finger swirl against my swollen nub, and then using his tongue, he speared my clit over and over again.
I felt myself scream out and I grabbed the edges of my pillow as the first wave of orgasm rocked through my body. I tensed and screamed again as Brad continued his tongue-lashing an
d I lost track of where I was. My senses were blurred and I felt the intensity of it all rush through my body and out between my lips until I was finally spent.
When I came to, I realized that there were now two fingers inside my pussy thrusting against my walls. Brad was stroking my clit with his thumb and smiling down at me. I smiled back, too weak and happy to feel embarrassed at my carnal display.
"There are benefits to marrying me, no?" Brad asked.
I nodded happily, and as I looked into his deep, satisfied eyes and felt his fingers within me and stroking my clit, I think that's when the thought first entered my head: he must be mine.
Brad withdrew his fingers, and I watched him take off his pants and slide out of his boxers. I loved to see him naked, his hard, tanned body and his large, swollen erection. The head was a deep shade of purple, angry and demanding attention, and as soon as he was within an arms' length, I reached out and sighed with pleasure as my hand clamped around his base.
There was an aching in my stomach as I slid my hand over the length of his shaft and around the head, curving over his tip, and letting my other hand follow suit. Brad made a satisfied grunting noise and pulled me up slightly, kissing my mouth roughly as he lay down beside me.
"Suck me off," he commanded. I didn't need another prompt.
I got up on all fours, my legs on either side of Brad's chest, and I bent forward. My ass was up in the air above him, and my thighs were spread wide apart. I knew he could see up between my legs, straight at my exposed pussy and asshole, and I shuddered internally. I was dripping wet and wanting more as I bent down over his cock, holding it up with one hand as I licked circles around the head with my tongue.
As if in a daze, I felt myself take his cock in my mouth, sucking and pushing it in deep as I bent down. I moved my head up and down and I felt myself clenching and unclenching, growing wetter and more aroused as I felt Brad's arousal increasing. I moved my head and allowed his shaft to slide out of my mouth, and I bent down to give some attention to his balls. As I sucked gently, I felt Brad's finger trailing up and down my lower lips, and I wished he would put it in.
Although I had just had an orgasm, I felt like I was starved for attention and needed a good banging. The thought of Brad pushing his fingers inside me made me moan as I pushed my mouth around his shaft again, and started bobbing up and down, sucking my lips tight around his erection.
Thankfully, I soon felt Brad push me off and his arms pinned me down on the bed, his eyes hard with lust and determination. He pushed my thighs apart and I felt his cock stroke my lips, up and down, teasing them and not entering. He nudged forwards a bit but just as I was about to sigh with delight, he moved back, delighting in my disappointment.
"Beg for it." His voice was like steel.
I whimpered and turned my head to the side, glancing up shyly at his greedy face. "Please Brad," and my face burned as it always did when he made me beg, "Please fuck me."
I felt him turn me to my side and his hand came down hard on my ass cheek. It was his way of letting me know that he needed more, and I whispered in desperation, begging him to enter me and take me, begging him for more.
I hated begging but I was desperate for him to be inside me. It was a relief when I felt him position his shaft at my entrance again, and then finally he nudged it in and I sighed with joy.
When Brad moved out and back in again, I started moaning and grinding my hips. His thrusts became deeper and more violent and I felt myself rocking against him. I tried to suck his cock in deeper with my muscles, and I felt him throbbing against my walls. I knew my orgasm was near and I felt the pressure well up inside me, and then start to bubble. My insides turned to jelly and I felt the release escape me as I moaned and felt Brad thrusting into me again and again. When I came to, Brad was still inside me, but I felt the pace of his thrusts slow down and he stiffened, and finally came.
We lay entwined for a few minutes, and I felt him shrink inside me before he pulled out.
We were both happy and spent, and as I went to sleep that night, I felt like I had made the right decision. Brad's arm was wrapped around my body, and in the seconds before I fell into a deep sleep, I breathed in his scent and thought to myself again, we should make this a permanent thing.
Chapter Two
I had quit my job with Mr. Neilson's blessing, but it didn't take me long to realize that being married to Brad would not keep me busy during the day. Sure, I could go to the expensive gym and get in shape, I could indulge in my hobbies of baking and eating amazing foods, I could go shopping, or get my hair done once in a while - but none of these things would fill up my life properly.
I knew I had to keep busy, and when I mentioned this to Brad, he pulled some strings. A few days later he announced that when classes started after six weeks, I could go to community college. I was shocked and pleased - I hadn't really expected Brad to do anything, and the fact that he'd wasted some of his influence on a nobody like me left me feeling incredibly grateful. This went far beyond the terms of our contract, and I looked forward to classes as I indulged myself during the rest of the six weeks, lazing around and making some friends in yoga class.
I was learning to navigate Brad's world. People were the same everywhere, and my habit of disparagingly generalizing folks was coming in useful. I broadly categorized the women as being one of either two categories.
First there were the smart, intelligent ones who had their own careers as well as their wealth and beauty. Some of them had inherited wealth, others had married well, and a rare handful had earned all their money. These women were fun to hang out with, and though I felt slightly inferior in comparison to them, their intelligence usually made them compassionate and most of them were nice to me. At soirees and parties, I tried to identify these women and spend time with them, avoiding the Glamazonians with all my energy.
The Glamazonians were women who had married well and planned to keep their wealth, if not their husbands. They were more common, and usually they were ex-models and actresses, or at least looked the part. Some of them were rather nice, although most were too busy cementing their own images and basking in their own glow of beauty and glamour.
I divided the men into two groups as well - they were either the earners or the inheritors. Inheritors were playboy-types who never lifted a finger and knew they could lie back on their trust fund. They were reckless and had no concept of what the real world was like. Earners worked for a living, regardless of how much their families had left them, and this made them practical and more down-to-earth than you'd expect a billionaire to be.
Every time I met people Brad knew, I felt subtle power-plays and auras shifting around, based on a person's status. Folks here were concerned about their image, and donated heavily to charities to prove a point, not to stop world hunger. I realized that Brad wasn't above this himself, but he was too busy trying to run his company as the new CEO to devote time to these silly ego games.
Of course, I was sure that marrying me had reduced Brad's status in his peers' eyes - I was a true nobody. I didn't have great looks, a great career or the background of an old and established family. This made me the lowest form of living creature to be a guest at those parties, even lower than the intelligent but plain women who earned all their money instead of marrying for it.
Initially, this had made many people think I was out for something - that I might like to trade up for a different man, or be a confidante to a Glamazonian in exchange for exclusive invitations. But neither option tempted me, and I let their silent judgments slide off my back.
After my initial dizzy of excitement, parties and glamorous events held no attractions for me. I hated the backstabbing and gossiping that went on, I hated having to doll myself up for the paparazzi, and I came to understand why Brad hated the limelight so much.
Even shopping became boring - with no limits on what I could buy, I suddenly lost interest in buying and wearing fashionable things. When I was broke, I had ambition, and buying
pretty things had seemed like part of a successful life. But when buying pretty things meant nothing, and my life was really in tatters but being disguised by a billionaire's wealth, I felt no interest in purchasing nice things. I felt like a charlatan, and being dressed with someone else's money just made me feel cheap.
I did, however, like the gym. I loved working out, driving myself hard, feeling the adrenaline around me in group fitness classes. I'd never been able to afford a gym before, and I felt proud when my muscles hurt, and I saw myself visibly getting slimmer and fitter, despite all the expensive foods that I now enjoyed on a regular basis.
Chapter Three
In this life without real ambition and goals, it didn't take me long to crystallize that thought I'd had on our wedding night.
I needed Brad, he must be mine. But how?
The usual routes to seduction were out.
I couldn't stun him with my amazing good looks - in his world, I was considered ugly or at best, "ok", even when I was dolled up by the best hair and makeup artists. For some reason, Brad seemed to like the way I looked even on my bad days, which was why we'd gotten together in the first place. But there was no way to look like the most beautiful woman around, when he was near super-models and starlets on a regular basis.
As for sex, it was either good or amazing, and I didn't have to try. We still felt the hot chemistry between us, the same as when we'd first met. There was something animalistic that kept pushing us together, and our nights were most often spent in thrashing agony and pleasure.
The normal routes for a wife to please her husband were out, too. There was no way I could do housework and keep a nice home - I'm messy by nature, and Brad had a housekeeper and a maid to look after everything he needed.
Eva was a great chef, so I didn't see any point in trying to get to Brad's heart through his stomach, but this didn't stop me from whipping up interesting recipes. Although Eva disapproved and voiced to me once in a while that she'd make whatever I wanted to eat, I had far too much fun trying new items and tasting them with Brad. I knew he looked forward to whatever I'd bake, but I love food and spent time with the oven to please my own desires, not his.
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