BWWM: OFF LIMITS: An Interracial Alpha Billionaire Romance (Urban African American Contemporary Series)

by Scribble XO Books

  The dancers were turning neat little circles.

  “Don't let me distract you,” his voice rumbled in her ear, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. In the interest of not distracting her, his hand wandered its way up to brazenly cup her breast, giving it a firm squeeze.

  Gemma looked around, her eyes wide, but there was no way anyone could see them now. She was sure, no one could possibly see up this high.

  Cillian's fingers found her stiffening nipple as it poked against the fine fabric of her dress. He pinched it just enough to make her squirm. When Gemma arched into his touch, Cillian chuckled darkly and pulled her closer to his body. He continued to tease her this way until her whole body tingled. Gemma tightened her lips and didn't dare make a noise—she was sure someone would hear. Someone would come into the box, or one of the patrons below would look up, and then everyone would know. She gritted her teeth when Cillian gave her nipple a particularly pleasurable tug.

  Gemma found herself panting, trying her hardest to keep down the sound of her breathing.

  “Baby, you seem quite worked up,” came his voice in her ear. Gemma turned to see him observing her intently. “The show's down there. You're going to miss something looking at me.”

  “And what about you?” Gemma took a steadying breath. “You haven't seen a moment of the show.”

  “Oh, I disagree. I'm quite content with the show I'm seeing here.”

  His warm hand slipped beneath her dress, finally caressing the bare skin of her inner thigh. Gemma's eyes slipped closed and Cillian withdrew.

  “If you're not going to watch, we can go back home,” he said sternly.

  Gemma forced herself to open her eyes as his hand returned to her soft skin. Gemma briefly wondered if that was exactly why he'd chosen this dress. His fingers made little circles on her, giving her goosebumps. Her mind had gone hazy, but she tried to think about the show. The dancers were leaping and twirling. Gemma had quite lost the thread of the performance.

  “Cillian,” she murmured. “What are you doing?”

  “Punishing you,” he said simply, and brushed his fingers against her inner thighs. Gemma leaned into him, spreading her legs just enough for his fingers to wander up her thighs. A tingling heat spread from the pit of her stomach throughout her body, and she knew that his fingers would find her sex ready.

  When he finally slipped one finger into her, Gemma could feel Cillian grin against her neck where his face was buried. Gemma's own hand groped along his thigh, her nails grazing the tense muscle there. Her eyes fixed on the stage, she searched southward, hoping to find him as excited as she was.

  Cillian nipped her ear sharply, and Gemma had to clap a few fingers to her mouth to muffle the sound.

  “No touching,” he said, at the same time slipping another thick finger into her.

  “This isn't fair,” she whimpered breathlessly.

  “This is more than fair,” he chuckled darkly. “I think it's pretty generous.”

  Cillian's hand moved faster, thrusting deeper and grinding hard against Gemma's sex. She had long since stopped seeing what was happening on the stage below, but she kept her eyes fixed upon the ballet. If she looked away, he might stop again...

  Gemma writhed in her seat as Cillian wriggled yet another finger into her. Her hips were nearly lifted off of her seat in an attempt to allow him even better access to her. He was pumping hard into her now, and Gemma's body was trembling.

  “Cillian,” she hissed. “Cillian!”

  “Yes?” His voice was quiet, controlled, and it made her shudder.

  Gemma bit her lip hard as her muscles tightened with the mounting pleasure.

  “Come for me,” Cillian commanded, his voice rumbling in her ear. Gemma exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding, and a violent shudder came over her. The muscles of her inner walls squeezed around his fingers and she clamped her slick thighs down hard over his still-pumping hand. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, and she fought against all instinct to keep silent.

  When she'd finished coming, the final strains of music faded away. The dancers were taking their bows, and the audience was on their feet, in a roar of applause.

  Chapter 3: All Tied Up

  Gemma didn't stop trembling all the way home, a fact that seemed to please Cillian to no end. He was doing his best impression of Perris, not speaking to her but his face told the whole story. He was pleased. He accompanied her to her room.

  “Good night, beautiful.”

  “Good night,” Gemma said, looking down at her bare feet. She'd taken off her heels as soon as they left the ballet. Flicking her eyes up to meet his gaze, Gemma felt as though she were under the same spell as before. The blueness of his eyes was all she could see in the dim light. She leaned up to kiss him on the mouth, yearning to taste him.

  Cillian did not return her kiss. He put his hands on her shoulders, drew away, and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

  “Good night,” he said again more firmly, his body tense with restraint as he left her there blinking in the dark.

  Gemma hardly slept that night. Even after she pushed away the hot embarrassment and managed to close her eyes, her dreams were filled with an intense longing that expanded throughout her body until she awoke. Scowling and grumbling at nothing every time she awoke, Gemma could never remember what she'd dreamed about. She only had the vague impression of staring into the eyes of a predator.

  ***

  A whole week passed in much the same manner as before. In her spare time, Gemma wandered the house, wrote, perused the bookshelves, or ran off her excess energy at a nearby park. A shadow of fear crept over her when she had been outside, her senses prickling at the thought that someone was watching her. The jewel thugs she normally dealt with had been abnormally quiet as of late, saving her from having to fabricate excuses on her absence from their usual dealings. Nevertheless, she was relieved for the break and happy to occupy herself throughout the house and nearby stores. One day, Mrs. Mills had even suggested she take a walk to the chocolate shop across the street and, feeling curious, she did.

  At dinner that night, Cillian asked if she had enjoyed her chocolates, though she never mentioned it to him. Someone in the house—perhaps even Mrs. Mills herself—was clearly reporting on her. Of course, it could have been the doorman. Or maybe some other invisible person in Cillian's employ that Gemma was unaware of. It didn't matter, she decided. If she was going to be a prisoner here, she would do as she pleased. If he didn't like it, he could do something about it. A small part of her liked the idea of toeing the line but she couldn’t deny that shedidwant him to touch her.

  In all other matters, Cillian was strictly in control despite the growing tension between them. He'd leave notes in her room with instructions on what to wear or when to meet him but he never touched her like he did at the ballet. Every time she padded across the living room casually, he’d stop his reading to watch her swinging hips. Gemma pretended to not notice the way he shifted in his chair, his grip tightening on the papers in his lap. It annoyed her to find her body craving his touch, the fire that he started building for him day by day. But he never lost control.

  The night she had kissed him… had he pulled away because he had not initiated the kiss? Even though he accompanied her to her room when she went to bed a few days later and looked at her like a wolf looks at prey, he still never made a move. They would lock eyes and Gemma would feel a surge of giddiness and lean into him, only to be rebuffed again. She was certain that he was just toying with her, biding his time. But what for? Was this her real punishment?

  The following week he had to leave for a business trip for three days. His eyes had shone regretfully when he’d told her but the small kiss on her forehead had warmed her heart. She thought she’d be relieved from having his gorgeous body stalk around the penthouse but surprisingly enough, Gemma she found the tension inside her building evenmore in his absence.

  She had talked to Rai
nna constantly since his departure and the two of them had decided that it his trip must have just another power play.

  “Think about it, Gem. He takes you to this ballet, and woos you every night, but doesn't make a move. He pushes you away when you try to kiss him, but he tells you what to wear and when to meet him.”

  Gemma hadn't told Rainna everything that happened that night at the ballet. She didn't think it would make Rainna feel any better about the situation.

  “He left so that you would have no choice but to wait for him.”

  Gemma rolled the idea around in her head every night before she went to bed. It didn't make her upset, but there was a certain tension building inside of her. She was restless and anxious, but expectant. Almost excited, even. She hated to admit it to herself, or to Rainna, but she missed him. She had taken to interrogating Mrs. Mills about him in his absence, but the woman was as good at changing the subject as he was and always had the convenient excuse of needing to tend to some other part of the suite.

  “So, what's down that way,” Gemma asked, nodding at the door that led to the east wing of the house. She'd tried it on several occasions, but it was always locked where no other door in the house was.

  “Oh, much of the same, love.” Mrs. Mills was wiping down the counters after lunch, not looking at Gemma.

  “Is that where Cillian stays?”

  “You know, he hardly stays in the house at all, come to think of it,” Mrs. Mills said, feigning mild surprise.

  “Yeah, but that's not really--”

  “Oh, goodness! I've forgotten to get your laundry!”

  And she was gone again. Gemma had come to wonder at how such short legs could move so fast. She didn't see the housekeeper for the rest of the day, but knew that she must have been about because she found her laundry neatly folded and waiting at the foot of her bed.

  ***

  Gemma paced the apartment. She had spent the day going back and forth between the couch to the armchair to the kitchen table. Cillian was expected back that night. In fact, his plane would land at nine. Gemma looked up at the clock. It was 9:45. She'd been unable to concentrate on books since early that afternoon and had already been out to the riverfront twice. Both times she had completely lost interest in running and ended up simply wandering around until she was back at the suite.

  Gemma pulled a sleek new phone out of her pocket. Cillian had given it to her, of course, so that she could contact him reliably.

  It was 9:50. He would be home soon.Home.This was becoming home to her. She unlocked the screen and flipped through the menus before turning it off again and shoving it in her pocket. Surely it wouldn't takethis long for him to get there. Gemma couldn't convince herself to call Rainna again to pass the time. The very idea was exhausting. Instead, she laid down on the couch.

  She pulled out her phone again. Seeing that it was only 9:51, she tossed it onto the couch and scoffed. Hopping up, Gemma resumed pacing again. She looked out over the city, and the cast her eyes around the living room. Nothing in it held her interest.

  All I want is Cillian. The thought surprised her but she knew it rang true. In the past few days, her heart had softened towards him. He was a hard man to read but he took care of her, something she hadn’t expected especially due to the circumstances that had brought her to him. Regardless, she felt safe, well the kind of safe that one felt living with sexy masculine perfection that rebuffed her every tactic.

  Picking up her phone, she nearly threw it across the couch. The time had not changed at all. Stubbornly, Gemma stared at it until the clock ticked over to 9:52, just to make sure it was working, and then shoved the device in her pocket again.

  It was well past midnight when she fell into a fitful sleep. A svelte shadow stalked around the apartment, its bright blue eyes watching her from the darkness. The shadow changed into Cillian.

  “I'm going to eat you up, Gemma baby,” he growled.

  Suddenly the figure changed again, this time into Rainna.

  “You're going to get caught, Gemma. He’s going to tie you up! Don’t trust him!”

  Rainna's eyes were bright blue in the dark, and she stared at Gemma with savage intensity.

  In the fogginess of her mind Gemma thought she could hear a soft click of a door closing, and her fantasy evaporated into the shadows. A tall, broad silhouette leaned over her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She could feel herself being scooped up in strong arms, a subtle, masculine cologne enveloping her.

  Gemma turned her nose toward the scent, burying her face against Cillian's warm chest. He always smelledsogood. Gemma felt her heart opening up.

  “What are you doing out of bed so late, beautiful? Did you miss me? I missed you...” The soothing timbre of his voice rumbled through his chest and rolled over Gemma in her hazy half-sleep. She wanted to drink that voice, to taste that scent. Gemma's hands went automatically to Cillian’s chest, tugging sleepily at the collar of his shirt.

  Cillian laid her down in her bed, but Gemma hooked a finger through one of his belt loops and made a noise of protest.

  “Stay here,” she murmured, rising a little more from her sleep. With one hand holding him, Gemma used her free hand to gently pull the tail of his shirt out of his slacks where it was neatly tucked.

  “God Gemma I’m trying to do the right thing by you here. If you continue this way, I won't be able to restrain myself any longer.” Cillian's voice was tight, almost threatening.

  “Maybe I don't want you to restrain yourself?” Gemma was still quite sleepy. She heard the words as if someone else was speaking them with her mouth and her hands seemed to be moving without her permission. They were still tugging at his clothes, trying to be next to his skin.

  “I see you can't keep your hands to yourself...” Cillian pulled himself away gently and crossed the room to the closet. Gemma tried to peek around him, but could not see what he might be looking for. When he emerged, he was carrying a small black box. His eyes flashed blue in the moonlight as he crossed back to her and something slid into place in Gemma's mind. Suddenly, her skin was very hot.What will he do to me?

  Cillian leaned down over Gemma, his breath hovering over hers. Gemma sighed as his lips finally met hers and he groaned softly as his tongue darted to taste her. She opened for him and his hands clasped in her hair roughly as he pulled her head back to thoroughly explore her mouth. He imprinted himself on her and Gemma felt his desire all the way down to her core. Heady with desire she swayed back, loving the way he tasted. His heavy body covered hers as his hands wandered up and down her sides, groping and teasing as they went. As his lips moved down to kiss the column of her neck, he took hold of both of her wrists in one of his large hands.

  When Gemma tugged against his grasp, Cillian looked up and one corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.

  “I'm going to teach you how to keep your hands to yourself, beautiful.” Straddling her small waist, Cillian sat up and reached into the box. Gemma twisted in an attempt to see what was inside, but could not lift herself from the bed as Cillian was still pinning her hands. Something silky was being tied around her wrists. When he sat up and Gemma could move her arms again, she found that they only came down to just above her head. Cillian must have secured her bindings to the headboard.

  “There,” he said softly. “Perhaps that will teach you.”

  His eyes were roaming her body now and he licked his lips, like a beast deciding where to start his feast.

  Cillian trailed one finger over her jaw, and down the curve of her neck. Continuing down her body, he gently squeezed her breasts over her shirt, and then slipped his hands under, taking her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. When Gemma moaned and arched into his touch, Cillian rewarded her with another firm pinch before moving downward. His hands were large and warm, teasing over her smooth skin gently. He made little circles around the waist of her jeans, then tugged them down just an inch to reveal the swell of her generous hips.

  This seemed to
please him greatly, as he leaned down to kiss and nip the sensitive skin at her curve. Gemma wriggled as his teeth tortured her and his breath warmed her.

  “Cillian, I- I want to touch you.”

  “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he said simply, before moving down her body. He took both of her legs and spread them wide, allowing him to bite her sex through her jeans. The fabric dulled the effect of his teeth, but the firm pressure made her suddenly very wet. Gemma moaned and rolled her hips against him. Gemma yanked hard on her bindings, making Cillian chuckle.

  When his fingers finally undid her jeans and pulled them down, Gemma's stomach tightened with anticipation. She raised her hips to help him take her jeans off and shivered when he looked up from between her legs and grinned.

  Cillian, presented with her gently pouting pussy, wasted no time in burying his face there. He kissed her there just as passionately as if he was kissing her lips, his tongue wandering around the labia and dipping inside of her for a taste. Gemma moaned and forced herself not to clamp her thighs over his head. It wouldn't do to suffocate him just now. Spurred by her pleasure, Cillian's tongue wandered to her quivering clit. He made a little circle around it, before giving it a firm flick, a rough moan suddering from his lips.

  Gemma's thighs twitched violently. Seemingly pleased with this reaction, Cillian flicked her again. And again, and again, until she was shuddering all over and whimpering audibly. Gemma pulled uncontrollably against the silks around her wrist.

  Cillian scraped his teeth against her lips and then pulled away.

  “You know. The more you pull, the tighter the knot gets Gemma baby.”

  But Gemma wasn't listening. Her fingernails were scrabbling against the silk in the hopes of tearing it.