by Dark, Aubrey
HIS GIFT
A DARK BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE PART TWO
By
Aubrey Dark
This is a continuation from His Gift Part One, also available on Amazon!
Copyright © 2015 Aubrey Dark
All rights reserved.
First Edition: January 2015
ISBN: TBD
Chapter One
I’m going to punish you.
Jake said it so calmly that I almost couldn’t understand the words. Then the full meaning hit me, and my chest tensed.
Blindfolded, handcuffed, gagged, completely undone with desire, I’d decided to stay. My curiosity had already decided that for me. But that one word—punish—filled me with dread.
His hands were gone. They left an absence on my body that ached like a bruise.
“Lacey, you beautiful girl. You beautiful, silly girl. You’re the innocent gift I was hoping for. That other girl, she wouldn’t have done anyway. But you—”
Even though I was blinded by the dark silk fabric, I could feel his weight as he leaned over me, his hands pressed on either side of me against the sheets. In my mind, I could see his green eyes, dazzling and fierce.
I tugged with one arm, then the other. Both wrists, cuffed on either side of me. I couldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t even touch him unless he touched me.
“You are something special, Lacey. As unhappy as I am about your lying to me—”
“Mmm!” I cried out from behind the gag.
Jake’s knees were between my thighs and the very thought of it made me sick with want. I had never had such an ache, as though my body had been hollowed out. I shook my head back and forth.
“Yes, you lied. But as unhappy as I am about your lying, I think that you did it on purpose.”
One of his hands touched my breast, and God help me, my body arched into him. I needed him. I needed that pressure. Needed that release.
“Yes, you did it on purpose so that I would have to punish you.”
I moaned. He had brought me to the brink of orgasm and left me waiting, hanging off of the edge and not being able to fall.
My hands were tied. So were my feet. I struggled, but only for a moment longer. Was I giving him what he wanted? It didn’t matter.
He would take what he wanted.
I moaned again.
His hand brushed down my chest. The back of his fingers grazed my exposed breast, sending electric thrills through my limbs.
“Ohh,” I moaned behind the gag. I was wet, so wet. Last night he had touched me and made me come. But now…
“I said I wouldn’t harm you. And I won’t. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt. Do you understand?”
I blinked behind the fabric of the blindfold.
I didn’t understand.
My bra and panties were still on, albeit in a state of wild disarray, and he made no motion to take them off. Instead, he slid his hand over my panties, fondling me through the fabric.
Oh God. I couldn’t imagine that this was how it was with every man. No other man had ever made me burn so hot with a single look. It wasn’t only his fingers that were sending me into spasms of want. It was the fact that it was him.
Jake Carville, a man I knew almost nothing about. I knew only that he was rich—
—you knew that his fingers were long and hard, and probably so was his—
rich, yes, rich and powerful, but the greatest power he had was this, the power to make my body sing under his fingertips.
Before, he’d yanked down my bra so that my breasts were exposed. I could feel the chill of the air and the warmth of his breath. His hair brushed against my collarbone as he lowered his head to my chest.
I would have screamed if I hadn’t been gagged. I screamed anyway, but it came out as little more than a gurgle behind the black silk fabric.
His tongue slipped down the line of my throat, leading down between my breasts. He turned his head there and rested his cheek against my chest.
Could he feel how fast my heart was beating? The quick throb of my pulse that beat through every vein of my body? It felt like the room was beating and all I could see was darkness.
A dark, beating air pressed hot against my face, and he pressed his fingers against me. I moaned, my hips bucking out to him, trying desperately to drain pleasure from his touch.
But no, he withdrew those long, terrible fingers and brought his hands up to my chest instead. He cupped my breasts in both of his hands. My first thought as he did so was that his hands must be so big to fit around me completely. Then he squeezed me, pressing a soft kiss against the space over my heart, and I didn’t think anymore.
His hands caressed softly, but I didn’t want him to be soft. I wanted him as he had been before. I wanted his hands to thrust roughly into me. I needed relief. I needed satisfaction.
Behind the gag I growled with need.
Hearing me, he smiled. I could feel the curl of his lips against my skin. He pinched my nipple slightly, teasing me. With the other hand he continued to massage my chest, kneading the soft, aching flesh.
“Lacey, my darling. My innocent,” he whispered. I heard his voice swimming in the darkness, and I tossed my head from one side to the other. The pounding need inside of me was ready to swallow me whole. All I needed from him was one thrust. One finger inside me, one hand pressing against my swollen clit. God, I needed it.
Then he bent his head and sucked on my nipple. I swear, I almost came right then from the thought of his mouth on another one of my aching nubs. The thought of him doing what he was doing with his tongue—long, slow swirls—between my thighs. Oh, God, it was almost enough.
Almost.
Jake paused for a moment, his teeth grazing my nipple on top and bottom. I arched slightly, wanting him to suck harder. Even just a little harder, and I would be there. But no. His teeth slid lightly, teasing, torturing.
He slid his fingers down over my panties, brushing my swollen, aching nub so gently that I screamed with desire behind the gag. I couldn’t distract myself; with the blindfold on, there was only him. He kissed me on the underside of my breast, his tongue lapping at the curve from my armpit to my sternum.
Light kisses, like a paintbrush dabbing airily at my skin. He kissed my shoulder, my arms, pressing these impossible soft lips against my wrist, retreating if I moaned.
He kissed me everywhere but where I needed him.
All the while, his fingers slid on both sides of my panties, teasing the hemline. I was soaking wet and God, I had never thought much about losing my virginity but at that moment I would have given it to anyone who promised a quick, hard finish.
Jake brushed against me and I whimpered, needy and stupid, whimpering like a little girl. I’d always been a tomboy, always been tough, but this was too much.
He brought me to the edge and then held me there, torturing me with the promise of another mind-blowing orgasm.
But relief never came.
I felt Jake’s fingers retreat, and I nearly cried.
He took off my gag. The silk fabric dropped away from my mouth. I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry. I coughed, my tongue screaming for moisture.
“Please,” I rasped. “Please.”
I never begged, but here I was, begging. He had turned me into a sputtering mess of emotion. I hated the way he toyed with me, but I needed him to do more.
“No,” he said.
It was then that I understood. He wasn’t going to take me. He wasn’t going to have sex with me.
And that was the punishment.
Chapter Two
The cuffs around my wrists came off, Jake’s fingers touching my w
rists as he undid them. I had to struggle not to reach down and finish myself. My body pulsed with desire between my thighs.
Still blindfolded, I bit my lip and breathed like Steph had taught me when she had started her newest yoga class.
Breathe in. Feel everything around you. Feel your body.
Well, I felt my body, alright. My body was burning.
Breathe out. Relax.
My heart was racing, but I did my best to breathe slowly. Knowing that he was torturing me gave me strength to fight the deep urge that was burning at my core. I wouldn’t let him beat me. This was a game of will, and I had willpower to last forever if I needed to.
God, I hoped I didn’t need to.
“Don’t move,” Jake said, as if he needed to tell me. “Don’t take off your blindfold.”
“Where are we?” I whispered. I hadn’t really been curious before. I’d supposed that I was on his bed, in his bedroom. But the way he spoke the order made me doubt it. Now curiosity tingled, and I licked my lips.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
His strong arms came around me and I felt him carry me. I couldn’t make out anything from under the blindfold, and after a few steps I gave up, nuzzling my head against his strong chest. I tried not to think about the ache between my legs, about the way his lips had danced across all of my skin.
One door opened and closed, and then another. His arms set me down on another cushioned surface.
He took off the blindfold. Seeing his dazzling emerald eyes above me made me hate him and want him even more. He looked pleased with himself.
I looked around. We were in a bedroom for sure, this time. The decor matched the rest of the penthouse apartment that I’d seen. Plush carpet lined the floors, with thick braided rugs elaborately embroidered. More paintings, vintage oils framed in gold, hung on the walls.
This bed was covered in pillows that felt like down against my back. The bed itself was a four-post canopy, with rich oak posts at all its corners.
In my history classes in middle school, I remembered seeing a picture of fourteenth century Versailles. The palace that was so lavish it made the peasantry rise up and revolt. If Jake Carville had lived back then, I thought idly, he would most certainly have gone to the guillotine.
And outside of the bedroom window, I could see the rest of New York City, bright and shining in the night’s darkness.
“Where are we?” I asked, the breath coming back to my lungs. Now that I had seen his expression, I certainly wasn’t going to be touching myself, even though there was still a dull pulse of desire. I crossed my arms over my bra. My panties were soaked with desire and it was starting to cool now that he had stopped touching me. I shivered.
“This is a guest room in my apartment. You are my guest.”
“Really? Do you kidnap all of your guests in dark alleys and tie them up blindfolded before torturing them?”
“No,” he said, grinning slyly. “Only the ones I like best.”
“Hrmph,” I said. And yet my mind screamed at me. Liked the best? He liked me. Jake Carville liked me. He--
His hand reached out and for a moment I thought that this was the moment. He’d made me wait, but now he would take me. Take my virginity. My pulse began to beat harder.
But no. He was only reaching out to stroke my hair, tucking one strand behind my ear. It was an oddly touching gesture for someone who had spent the past hour denying me an orgasm.
“Well, Lacey? What do you think? Have I punished you enough?”
“Why are you punishing me?”
The question came to my lips before I knew it was there. My breaths came hard and fast. My body was twisting inside. I needed him to touch me, just a little more pressure, just a little—
“For your disobedience.”
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“What disobedience?” I asked, trying not to sound too sarcastic.
“Staying out late. I told you to rest.”
My jaw fell open. So much for not being sarcastic.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course,” he said, frowning. His dark brows slanted over those piercing green eyes, but there was no humor in them. He wasn’t teasing me. He wasn’t joking.
“I had to work,” I said, frowning right back at him.
“I ordered you to rest,” he said. He emphasized the word ordered.
“And my landlord ordered me to pay rent. Sorry for not wanting to get evicted.” My arms were already crossed, but if I could have crossed them again, I would have. Of all the jerk moves, this was absolutely the worst.
His eyes narrowed. Good. All of my arousal was quickly turning into anger. If I could just stay mad at him, I could calm my body down.
“If you aren’t going to obey me for some idiot reason—”
“Not having money is an idiot reason?”
Jake’s nostrils flared. I could tell that he wasn’t used to being interrupted in the middle of a sentence. Well, too bad. If he didn’t want me interrupting him, he shouldn’t have had his henchmen grab me off the street like I was in some Liam Neeson movie.
Instead of yelling at me, though, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a checkbook.
“How much?”
“How much what?”
“How much is your rent?” he asked with concealed impatience, like I was asking him stupid questions. He was the one asking stupid questions, and if I didn’t want him so badly I might have stormed off to find the elevator out of his gorgeous palace of an apartment.
Instead, I swallowed, breathed in and out, and answered his question.
“Six hundred.” Six hundred for a closet that someone thought made a good studio apartment.
“That’s it?”
“I guess my penthouse apartment is just a better deal than yours,” I said, smirking sarcastically. “How much is your rent?”
Jake didn’t answer. He wrote a check and set it down on the bed next to me. I stared down at it, then picked it up gingerly, holding it as though it had teeth. I read the number.
At first I thought he had heard me wrong.
“This is too much. Way too much,” I said. “That’s…uh…it’s…” I tried to do the math in my head and failed horribly. I didn’t do well with numbers, even when I wasn’t burning at the groin with a hot billionaire sitting next to me in a silk-sheeted bed.
“It’s a year’s rent.”
I stared at him dizzily. A year? A whole year?
“No more excuses. If I say rest, you rest. Understood?” He eyed me meaningfully.
“Why do you care so much about my good night’s sleep?”
“I don’t think you understand. I’m protecting my gift.”
Whoa. I put the check down and lifted both hands in the air. This needed to stop.
“Okay, first? I’m not your gift. Lucas, whoever that is, didn’t give me to you.”
“I know that. The woman he’d picked out wasn’t quite as nice of a gift as you.”
“I’m not a gift.”
“Sure you are,” Jake said.
“Oh? Please. Explain that to me, if Lucas didn’t give me to you.”
“The universe gave you to me,” he said, smiling.
Man, this guy was an arrogant ass. I put on a sarcastic smirk.
“Lucky you, that the universe would do you such a favor. Wow, the universe just plopped me down on your doorstep, didn’t even leave a gift receipt or anything! You must just be the luckiest man in the world.”
The smile on his face faltered. His eyes shaded with pain.
“I have been lucky in some ways,” Jake said, his voice softer. “Not so much in others.”
“You must be at least a little lucky. You’ve got this, don’t you?” I looked out of his bedroom window where the bustle of New York City spread out in all directions. He had a beautiful home. Riches beyond imagining. He had everything. “Or are you a self-made man? Hard work, pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps—”
“No, you
were right the first time. This was given to me.”
He said it baldly, with no small amount of pain in his voice. Despite myself, I felt sorry for him. Ha! Sorry for a billionaire!
Still, the way he said it made me realize that I was being kind of a jerk to him. He was lavishing me with compliments. Heck, he’d given me a check for a year’s worth of rent. I could at least play along a little bit. Now that I was calming down, I struggled to say something nice.
“It’s beautiful either way,” I said softly. “And hey, you could have spent all your money like those lottery winners who go broke. At least there’s that.”
Yes.” He looked at me, and the pain dropped away from his face. He smiled again, a glint in his eye. “And now, I have you.”
He bent down and licked me through my panties. My hands dropped to his head, meaning to pull him away, but I couldn’t. Oh God, I couldn’t. All of the terrible aches inside of me that I had been trying to calm down flamed right back up immediately. My fingers threaded through his dark hair as he lifted his head from between my legs.
“Ahh,” I moaned. I pulled his head down only slightly with my hands, needing him but not wanting to admit it.
“Say it. Say you want me.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, not yet.
He licked me again, nuzzling softly. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. I groaned.
“Alright. I want you. I want you! Jake—”
“Don’t say my name.” He stopped then, suddenly. I remembered what he’d told me before. He didn’t like his name. Or maybe he just didn’t like hearing it from the girls he brought up to his place. Either way, I didn’t care. All I cared about was the aching pressure inside and his hard tongue against my most intimate places.
“Okay, okay, just please! Please, I want you. I can’t stand it! Please let me come, oh God!”
“Good.”
He sat up. I could have cried when I realized that he wasn’t going to finish me off.
“No. Come on. Please. Please don’t do this to me.”
“Do what?” He was grinning again, teasing me with his eyes. Those gorgeous emerald eyes. I wanted to fall into his bed. My hands weren’t tied, but I knew that no touch of mine could quench the thirst I had for only one man. For him.