Anything He Wants 4: Collateral Damage (Dominated by the Billionaire)

by Sara Fawkes

  "You're so beautiful," he murmured, hand stroking down my legs then back up the inside of my thighs. " I enjoy having you at my mercy like this."

  Slick fingers pressed against my folds, gliding over my throbbing entrance, and I surged forward in surprise. Another hand grabbed my hip, steadying me as the fingers continued to slide down and around in a way that left me panting. One finger dipped inside, pressing around the tight walls of my opening, and a loud moan escaped my lips.

  Jeremiah chuckled again, then his thumb moved up toward my other hole, smoothing over the entrance. He had played there before so I half expected it, but the surge of heat I felt as he pressed against the small strip of skin between the two openings shocked me. The pressure felt good in its own right, not necessarily coupled with any other touching. Jeremiah's thumb circled the small puckered hole before pushing inside and I moaned again, confused by my response but no less turned on.

  The slick finger disappeared, then something blunt and hard took its place, pressing firmly inside. I whimpered as it stretched me, moving slowly but inexorably deeper into my body. There was very little pain as Jeremiah made certain to move in tiny increments, but the pressure the object created was foreign. It seemed like an eternity before he finally stopped, the strain uncomfortable but not painful. I chanced a glanced backwards and saw him admiring his handiwork. He saw me looking and, one corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly, he motioned with one finger for me to turn back around.

  "You've never done this before, have you?" At the fervent shaking of my head he chuckled. "I teased you before, but I've been waiting to get you and this sweet ass alone."

  My breaths came in pants as he spread the cheeks of my backside. I trembled, uncertainty warring with desire. The sensation of my fluids trailing down the inside of one naked thigh made my body flush in embarrassment, but I heard Jeremiah breathe deeply. "God, the way you smell," he growled, fingers digging into the skin of my hips. That was all the warning I had as his face dipped down to my exposed core, mouth and tongue moving through the sensitive folds.

  Releasing a shocked cry, I surged forward, barely catching myself on my elbows at the edge of the mattress. I had nowhere to go: fall forward and off the bed or push backwards into that incredible mouth. Jeremiah's hands on my thighs gave me little room to maneuver however, holding me steady as lips and tongue and - oh god! - teeth sucked and nibbled the sensitive flesh. One hand left a quivering thigh, then fingers pressed inside my weeping entrance, stroking all the right places to leave me a shuddering mess.

  The plug in my butt shifted, barely a small bump, and I tensed at the strange sensation. It was foreign enough to be felt above the pleasure, but didn't detract from the experience. The second time it moved I realized the movements were deliberate as Jeremiah rotated the hard plug, but the fingers moving inside me and the tongue nibbling on my inner thigh kept me from noticing much else.

  The mattress behind me lifted as Jeremiah stood and moved around to my side of the bed. I laid there, panting, on my knees and elbows and trying to calm my quaking body. His hand stroked my head then down my back, and I noticed the hard bulge in his pants before me. Mind still foggy, I reached out with one hand and massaged the tip through the cloth, feeling the length and girth of his member. Jeremiah shuddered in my touch but didn't move, his hands dancing along my spine, so I grew bolder. I unclasped his pants and drew down the zipper, then reached inside and pulled him free.

  His fingernails scraped up my back as I leaned in and drew my tongue lightly across the bulbous tip. Jeremiah groaned and it was all the encouragement I needed; I leaned forward as far as the bed would allow and sucked him into my mouth. The angle didn't allow me much room to maneuver but I did my best, sucking on the head and running my tongue along the rigid length. Jeremiah's hands returned to my head, thick fingers fisting in my hair. I ran fingers between his legs, cupping and massaging the heavy balls, and was pleased to hear another sharp intake of breath from Jeremiah above.

  Part of me was horrified by my wanton behavior, but at that moment it was impossible to want anything else. My body still burned for his touch; every movement reminded me of the object still inside me, stretching my body to accept him. My core ached, desperate for contact, and I snaked my free hand between my legs, leveraging myself on my elbow.

  Jeremiah stepped back, his member leaving my mouth with a soft pop, then he delivered a sharp smack to my backside. The spank stung and I flinched in surprise, pausing all movement. "Did I give you permission?"

  Unsure how to answer, I drew my hand forward again but Jeremiah raised my head so we were eye to eye. "Were you about to touch yourself?"

  The total control in his words, his gaze an implacable request for an answer, made my body clench in need. "Yes Sir," I whispered, knowing instinctively that to lie wouldn't go well.

  He nodded, acknowledging my answer. "Did I give you permission?"

  "No, Sir," I whispered. A delicious dread flowed through my body as he nodded and released my face, then moved around to the back of the bed. His hand trailed along my backside, lightly passing over the plug again as if to remind me of its presence.

  "What should I do to someone who disobeys me?"

  Fingers skimmed over the warm flesh still smarting from the spank as if to help me with the answer, but I couldn't speak. To tell him to spank me was beyond my power, but the idea was a powerful and surprising turn-on. I wasn't into pain - even the light spank was way outside my comfort zone - but somehow the idea of being punished made me squirm in anticipation. Two of the items on the small table beside the bed were a paddle and a suede many-fingered whip with a braided handle that looked surprisingly soft. The black and red leather contrasted in a way that grabbed my attention - it was almost pretty, a silly opinion perhaps given its intended use as a whip. When Jeremiah's hand hovered over the paddle I tensed, then relaxed as he settled his fingers around the small whip. "You like the flogger?" he murmured, faint amusement lacing his words.

  Flushing, I looked away only to have him lift my chin so I was facing him. "I don't want to see you ashamed of being curious." He stroked my cheek with one thumb. "I know you're an innocent and I'll be gentle, but my goal is to please you and for that I'll need your help. So tell me, does the sight of the flogger turn you on?"

  I nodded but Jeremiah shook his head. "I need to hear you."

  Agreeing verbally was difficult. I swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, before whispering, "Yes, Sir."

  "Good." He picked up the flogger and snapped it across his arm. The leather strips made a loud crack against his flesh and I tensed. What was I getting myself into?

  "Close your eyes."

  I did what I was told, heart racing as a blindfold settled across my eyes. Trembling, suddenly apprehensive, I held myself still as Jeremiah moved back around the bed behind me. The urge to tear off the thin strip of cloth from my eyes was strong, but I imagined the punishment for two slights in a row would be much worse than a simple flogging. Listen to yourself, I thought, this is absurd! Why would you allow this man to touch you like this, let alone spank--

  The first crack of the leather against my backside carried little force, but still managed to surprise me. The second lash stung a bit more and landed closer to my sensitive apex. I clenched my muscles, trying to protect my exposed bits from the tool.

  "Keep your knees apart."

  Oh, come on! The urge to resist rose up but I beat it down, determined to see this through. Relaxing my body proved more difficult but I forced my muscles to loosen, balling my hands into fists to relieve some tension. The object inside me no longer seemed as obtrusive, or perhaps I was starting to get used to having it there. Either way, the whole experience was proving a lot to take in at once.

  Two more cracks of the whip, and when the last one landed across the exposed, sensitive flesh I yelped. There was a stinging pain but I knew no damage, which allowed me to withstand the next three lashings. By the time the last one fell I was panting, m
y backside and thighs stinging. Jeremiah didn't seem inclined to hold much back and I knew my fair skin would show marks from the leather.

  A hand smoothed along the tender skin, tracing the burning lines with a soft touch. "Seeing my mark on you pleases me." He laid a kiss on the small of my back. "I have another surprise for you."

  I waited, unsure what was coming, then felt something thin wrap around my hips. A small but firm piece of what I assumed was plastic nestled against the tender bud between my thighs, held firmly in place by the straps around my hips. When it suddenly began to vibrate, I gasped.

  "I thought you might like this," Jeremiah said, trailing one hand down my damp thigh. "This one is only meant for your clit; I have a larger one that stimulates everything at once but it would get in the way of what I plan next." He held my hips secure as I bucked and trembled, sparks of pleasure flying through my body. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

  The bed dipped behind me but I barely noticed, too caught in the sensations rolling through my body. When something nudged against my weeping opening, parting the folds as if asking permission, I pushed back with a breathy moan. The blindfold left me little else to focus on but the pleasure and I needed him inside me. Jeremiah obliged, pressing his hard length inside my tight entrance. With him filling me I again noticed the sensation of the butt plug, the foreign object creating pressure against my inner walls.

  "God!" Jeremiah leaned down over me, his naked torso - When had he taken off his clothes? - pressing me into the mattress as he thrust hard and fast. I welcomed the powerful stabs, a very different pressure building inside me and demanding release. Moans escaped my lips and my hands fisted in the covers, holding me steady as Jeremiah pounded into me from behind. He nudged my knees wider, changing the angle, and hit something inside my body that left me a panting mess. "Pl-Please," I stuttered, the word more moan than word. The orgasm I so desperately needed was close, it would only take the right push to...

  Lips pressed between my shoulder blades, tongue dipping to taste the skin. His hand reached around and pressed the small vibrator hard against my core. "I want to feel you come," he murmured, his voice thick with passion, and I rocketed over the edge with a loud cry, body exploding with sensation. The orgasm wrung out what little energy I had left and I laid my forehead on my hands, panting.

  Belatedly, I felt Jeremiah pull out, then heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. He finally removed the plug, and before I could understand what he meant to do I felt the blunt tip of his erection against the tight ring of my anus, gently seeking entrance. I squirmed, suddenly uncertain even as I quaked with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

  Jeremiah’s fingers skimmed down my sides, sliding across the soft flesh of my breasts and down over my hips. "I've dreamed how your ass would feel around my cock," he murmured behind me, laying a kiss on my shoulder. "I promise to make it good, please..."

  The raw need in his voice touched a matching curiosity within me, and I relented as he pushed through the tight barrier ring. In the darkness of that blindfold, there was only sensation. Jeremiah's heavy breathing matched my own, and the obvious pleasure he derived from this small taboo touched an answering fire still ablaze inside me. There was no pain, only a strange and new pressure, but when he made a small roll of his hips, the sudden sensation made me press back against him, hands curling around the edge of the bed.

  Jeremiah hovered above, solid arms on either side of my body keeping him from crushing me. I reached out blindly and put my hand over his, and he laced our fingers as his thrusts picked up. His pleasure was my goal but I found myself also into our actions, the foreign sensations melding with the earlier pleasure. His hands tightened around mine and he grunted, forehead falling to my back as he shuddered and came silently.

  There was an immense satisfaction in giving such a powerful man this kind of release. I wish I could see your face, I thought as he sat up, pulling himself gingerly from my body. I stayed where I was for a moment, basking in the afterglow, then collapsed sideways onto the mattress. Parts of me were deliciously sore, especially when I moved, but I stretched contentedly anyway. "That was incredible," I breathed, closing my eyes and laying my head against the pillows.

  "Was?" Jeremiah sounded amused by my statement. Still trapped by the blindfold, I heard but couldn't see a curious clinking noise then I was twisted on the bed and my arms stretched above my head. Before I could protest, thick cuffs surrounded my wrists and with a snikt I heard them secured to the headboard. My mouth dropped open in shock, then Jeremiah lifted one eye of my blindfold. My glare only seemed to amuse him. "You threatened to leave before," he said, letting the blindfold snap back into place. "This will keep you here where I can protect you. In the meantime however, I can think of a few ways we can take advantage of this.

  "Care to find out?"

  5

  The afternoon bled into twilight, then night, and Jeremiah proved exceptionally attentive. When he finally did release me from my cuffs, I didn't try to run, caught up in the sensual storm he created and never let die. The billionaire proved nearly insatiable, and I had little choice but to rise to the challenge. Four times that night he woke me, intent on delicious torment, and four times I collapsed afterwards, spent. The fifth time it was I who awoke first, taking my time beforehand to watch him as he slept. In slumber he relaxed, his face outlined by the light streaming in through the opaque window. I traced a feather touch along one brow, pausing only when he stirred. So beautiful, and all mine.

  For now.

  How a man like this would ever notice me was beyond my comprehension, yet here he laid, a feast for my wandering eyes. The soft sheets covered only his stomach and I drank in the sight of his beautiful body, marred only by the small white lines of scars barely visible in the low light. Seeing them, knowing what he must have been through to get them, made my heart squeeze painfully. Knowledge about his life in the military was one thing, but these scars were a testament to the fact that he fought and was wounded, a reminder forever of the missions he went on and the danger he must have seen.

  I traced the sparse line of hair leading down his abdomen and saw, with some satisfaction, the sheet below his belly rise as he grew hard again. Slithering down the bed I pulled the sheets carefully over my head then bowed my head over his body, licking the heavy tip before drawing him into my mouth.

  Jeremiah's hips rolled, pressing up toward my mouth. Emboldened, I put my hand along the base and stroked upwards, then followed it back down with my mouth. He grew harder and I smiled, bobbing my head over him. Whatever inhibitions I may have once had were thrown out the window, at least for tonight.

  A hand threaded through my hair and I heard a low groan above me. I placed my hands on his thighs for leverage as I took him deep, and felt him arch up into my mouth. Then hands pulled me free, taking hold of my shoulders and twisting me sideways until I was lying on my back with Jeremiah above. He stared down at me, any hint of sleep erased from his beautiful face. I could feel the desperate need in his movements as he opened my legs with one knee, stabbing deep with little preamble.

  Throwing back my head with a gasp, I clutched at his back, fingernails digging deep, as he moved over and inside me. Muscles still sore from the night's overindulgences protested but I didn't care; I wrapped my legs around his waist and begged for more as he thrust hard inside me. His mouth crashed down on mine, all passion and no finesse, and I rose to meet him, arms twining around his neck. Our coupling this time was short and fast, but the orgasm that rocked us both at long last drew us down into sleep.

  When I finally awoke the sun was high in the sky and I was alone in the bed. I stretched, arching my back and noticing the leather cuffs still attached to the headboard. The sight made me smile, a reminder of what happened only hours before. There was definitely some discomfort from the previous night's antics and I hobbled into the bathroom, drawing a warm bath and giving my sore body a chance to soak. I took my time getting ready, allowing myself a bit of pampering and us
ing the extra time to let the water to wash away some of the soreness and aches.

  My tummy was ultimately the one who dictated it was time to head downstairs, so I dried off and got dressed, putting my hair up quickly in a plastic clip before heading out. I heard voices downstairs and, curious, went to see who the new guest could be. There was nobody in the entryway at the base of the stairs however so, shrugging, I headed toward the kitchen, making a beeline for the refrigerator.

  “I took the liberty of looking you up, Ms. Delacourt.”

  I almost dropped the milk in my hand at the unexpected voice, whirling to face the woman who’d spoken. “Mrs. Hamilton,” I said, her cold scrutiny making me feel as though I’d been caught stealing. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  Her lips flattened into a hard line as she looked me up and down. “Women of your economic stature have a tendency of throwing themselves at my son. He usually has the presence of mind however to see through their wiles.” She sniffed in derision. “You’re not even that pretty; at least his previous assistant had that going for her in the beginning. Tell me, do you have something on him?”

  My jaw worked but I didn’t know what to say. “Excuse me?”

  The older woman rolled her eyes. “I see no reason why my son would associate with you. Both parents dead, barely middle class. You may know French but you have none of the credentials to run any form of business. Did he get you pregnant?”

  The brazen question shocked me speechless. Anger built up inside me but I could do little under her condescending stare than move my jaw soundlessly. The cold scrutiny in her gaze offended me on every level but I couldn’t begin to put my jumbled thoughts into words. My hands curled into fists – I wanted nothing more than to knock the smile off her sanctimonious face – but a lifetime of good manners kept me rooted in place. “I’m not pregnant,” I finally managed to retort, but the answer didn’t begin to articulate what was burning through my mind.