The Billionaire and the Best Friend Boxed Set

by Nikki Steele

  But we hadn’t. Not yet. Not because we were afraid. Rather, because we both knew that this was something special. It didn’t have to be rushed.

  Besides, waiting could be fun! Teasing someone with glimpses; brushing up against them ‘accidentally.’ The look in Ryan’s eyes made me feel deliciously wanted. But now it was time to let him see the look in my eyes.

  He held a pair of handcuffs between us. I raised both hands, allowing myself to be cuffed to the upper railing of the four poster. This part, we’d discussed. He hadn’t told me what came after.

  “You remember our safe word?” he asked.

  I nodded. It was funny— I was now totally helpless before him but I’d never felt safer. I wouldn’t be using the safe word.

  He winked at me. “Good. Because now the fun begins.” He began to unbutton his shirt. “You see, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. I know you’ve been teasing me. I know that all those brushes haven’t been ‘accidental.’” The shirt fell open, revealing a deep cleft between bulky pectorals and hard, shadowed abs. “I think it’s about time that I got my own back.”

  He reached for a small velvet bag, withdrawing from within it a series of clothespins tied at even spacings along rough twine. He held them up and they fell down, to dangle almost the length of his body, perhaps 20 in total.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, brow furrowed. I’d expected him to take me as soon as my hands were cuffed.

  He grinned. “Taking my time, that’s what.” He put the pegs on the bed and knelt before me, lifting my foot. He kissed it, then moved to my ankle, kissing that too, until he reached the hem of my dress. There, he paused to look up at me. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Tiff.”

  I closed my eyes, relaxing against the post. I’d been dreaming about this—ever since that first time he kissed me.

  I felt his lips continue up my thigh, and couldn’t help but smile. Wait for it…

  He sucked in a breath. “What do we have here?”

  I wasn’t wearing any panties.

  His hand ran up my inner thigh to alight gently—a butterfly’s touch—between my legs. I could see nothing but the curve of my breasts and the top of his head. But I could feel it: a caress that sent shivers up my body; a gentle lick, and then another. Suddenly my heart was racing.

  He stood up, hand remaining between me. His mouth went to mine. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. His hand felt so good.

  His kisses began to drift down now. Down the side of my neck, over my collarbone, along the top of my breast; all the while, his hand still gently rubbing, generating a heat that was slowly building.

  His teeth caught one of the bows on my dress strap. He tugged, it came loose, and a corner of material fell away. He sucked in another breath. I wasn’t wearing a bra, either.

  “Naughty girl indeed,” he whispered. He moved to the other bow, freeing it too, then his lips moved down; pushing cloth along the slope of my breasts. It caught briefly on my taut nipples, then tumbled down, to gather on the arm that still reached between my legs. His mouth took the dress’s place, sucking sharply at my nubs with greedy tugs.

  I was breathing heavier with each suckle; the twinges of pain followed by hot breath, the feeling of him burying deeper into me as he became more aroused too. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

  But then Ryan’s hand stopped and his mouth left my skin. “I think it’s time for you to be punished.”

  What? My eyes flew open to see him pick up the clothespins. He dangled them before me. Was he going to do laundry?

  He saw my confusion and pressed one open, letting it spring closed with a sharp snap. My eyes widened. Oh. They were for me.

  He pressed one open again, moving it to the soft skin just above my left nipple. He puckered a fold of it between thumb and forefinger, then…

  “Oh God!” I groaned. The clothespin clamped onto my skin, pinching tightly. He placed another, an inch to the side. Then another, slowly moving in a circle around my areola. The sensation was… hot. The pain was producing pleasure, a deliciousness that was generating an ache of a different sort. A giddy rush swept over me, endorphins flooding my body. Each clothespin pinching my flesh was an anchor to reality. A reminder of the body I lived in. A reminder of the feelings I was capable of.

  He held up the next in the series. “Do you know where this goes?” I bit my lip and nodded, glancing down. The others had circled the nipple. This would go upon it.

  He shook his head as he moved down to kiss my circled, swollen tip. “Guess again.” His hand moved to my other breast, stretching twine taut across my cleavage before clamping the peg on that nipple instead. My back arched as a whole new level of feeling coursed through me. Pleasure that was also pain, a sensation so exquisite on my sensitive skin that it drove my eyes wide once more.

  “You like that, don’t you.”

  I nodded dumbly, panting.

  He held up the remainder of the clothespins. We weren’t even halfway. And then he grinned.

  He fell to his knees, out of sight as my head fell back against the post I was cuffed to. I felt the string stretch tight; another clothespin touched my body, this one below my breasts and to the side. Ryan continued, moving ever lower, pegging my flesh with the most deliberate of movements, until he reached my hips. I could feel each peg on my body as he placed it; a sting that turned to ache and then suddenly became pleasure as endorphins rushed to the area. I was feeling deliciously light-headed.

  “One left,” he whispered. “Where do you think this could go?”

  I looked down at him, panting. I knew exactly where he was implying.

  He laughed, fingers brushing my swollen center. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.” Then he clipped the final clothespin; not there, but to my inner thigh—a reminder of his power over me; of his total dominance of my body.

  I groaned, so turned on he should be glad I was restrained. “Enough already,” I managed. “I want you in me.”

  He rose, admiring his work. “I do too,” he said, “but we’re not done yet.”

  “There are no more clothespins!” I gasped.

  He nodded, then held up the end of the twine. “But there is this.”

  For the first time I noticed that, though the clothespins had ended, the twine hadn’t. It continued for another six feet.

  Ryan reached for the candle closest to us, separating it from its base. I eyed the candle warily, but he began to tie the end of the twine around the heavy crystal base instead.

  “What are you doing?”

  He moved to kiss me on the lips, briefly melting all the pain away. Then he reached up, looping the twine over the rod of the bed I was cuffed to. I felt it go taut, tugging on the first clothespin. Then he placed the string in my hands, the weight dangling below. “There. Now I can begin. Make sure you hold tight!”

  “But…” Suddenly I realized what he had done. The twine looped over the bed railing had created a crude pulley. If I let go, the weight would fall, causing the entire line of pegs to rip free, one after the other, up my body.

  “But that’s not fair!”

  His lips nuzzled into my neck, causing shivers. I gripped the twine tight.

  “I never said I would be,” he growled. His hand moved between my legs once more. I closed my eyes, praying for strength, as pleasure spread through my body. Giving in to it would mean even more pain. But how could I resist when it felt so good!

  I wanted him, I wasn’t afraid to admit it. I wanted him to take me and fuck me and release all this built up tension he’d created. And I wanted to pleasure him too—this new lover and old friend, this man who loved me so completely that he was willing to join me on the dark side.

  I growled, arching my back as his kisses moved lower. “I said, I want you in me.”

  He licked a nipple, cooling it. It felt good against the heat of the clothespins. “Like this?” he asked, sliding a finger inside.

  My eyes rolled back. I almost let go of th
e twine. “God that feels good. No, I want you in me.”

  His finger began to move, easily lubricated by the emotions he was generating. I groaned, feeling the ribbing of his finger, the smooth glide of his knuckle in and out; a counterpoint to the static ache I felt everywhere else.

  A second finger entered, stretching me slightly. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine it was him. Imagine him moving in and out. Slowly at first, but now faster and faster. The pleasure was spreading over my body now, eclipsing the pain, heightened by it. I gasped; my hold on the string slipping ever so slightly—a sharp tug on my inner thigh that made me want to scream, and sob, and beg him to continue and end this delicious torment all at the same time.

  “What are you doing to me?” I gasped. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this!”

  His efforts renewed; I knew that soon I would be able to hold the twine no longer. Desperately, my pleasure climbing higher and higher, I began to wrap it around a finger, looping it over and over so it would hold when the time came. His movements were fast within me now. He dropped to his knees to use his second hand, too.

  I cried out. It was too much. He’d pushed me too far. I screamed, captive before him, my soul bared, and dropped the twine. It caught on my fingers, but not before the first clothespin pulled free, a sudden tug that spiked the dull ache on my inner thigh to a roaring pain—a pain to compliment the pleasure just beside it. A pain to feed it, and fuel it over the edge.

  My whole body arched, quivering in contractions that ran up and down his fingers, until I thought I must collapse, hanging from the handcuffs and him alone.

  He came up with a satisfied grin. “One down,” he murmured. Then he saw the twine coiled around my finger. “Well, well. And I thought you just had exceptional self-control.” His lips brushed mine, then pulled away. I reached toward him, restrained by the cuffs.

  “You know that’s cheating, don’t you?” he asked. His hands ran up my body; over my hips, under my breasts possessively.

  Then he pulled his shirt from his shoulders, letting it drop the floor. “You should know that cheaters get punished.”

  I’d thought I might need a break, but seeing Ryan undress… rounded pecs, just the right size, gave way to two neat rows of abs sitting blocky beneath them. And there, to one side… a white scar, sharper than the one on his cheek—a reminder of how much he loved me. A reminder of how big a fool I’d been.

  “I love you,” I whispered. Then I gasped. I hadn’t meant for that to slip out. Not so soon.

  He chuckled, eyebrow raised. “Don’t think getting all schmaltzy on me now will get you out of this. Oh no.” He undid his belt. “You’re not escaping that easily.”

  He stepped out of his pants as I stood chained before him, a helpless witness to a strip show I wouldn’t have missed for the world. Then he pulled his boxers down too. His manhood sprung free, eager to meet the day, and suddenly I forgot all about those words that I’d whispered. My attention was very firmly on other things. Very firm indeed.

  He stroked it once, then stepped toward me. “This time, I’m going to make you lose… Every. Single. Clothespin.”

  He reached up to undo my handcuffs, but then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot!” he bent down, picking up the lone peg that now dangled free. “This needs to be reattached.”

  The peg moved to my leg once more, but this time it slid over my inner thigh and to my most sensitive of spots. I tensed, expecting the worst. But he applied it to my hood, just above. Pain zinged through my body, stunning my senses, and I groaned, awash with feeling.

  He reached for my handcuffs once more. “Now we can continue.” He held the candle weight as my hands sprung free, but then spun me to face the post, one hand on either side as I bent forward, and handcuffed me once more.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Continuing the punishment,” he said, making me take up the weight once more. With my back bent, my hands were lower. This time I had to hold the weight itself. If I dropped it, there would be no second chance.

  In a mirror on the bedstand I saw him position himself behind me. And then…

  We groaned in unison as I felt him enter me, his hard length filling my wet center and sending instant electricity to every corner of my body. He took me by the hips, bending over me. “Tiffany,” he whispered, voice full of longing. We’d both been waiting a long time for this day to come.

  He began to move in and out, supporting me with hand on my hips while I supported the candle weight. My arms lowered, placing pressure on the first clothespin, and my eyes began to water. Already I could feel myself weakening. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and lose myself to his hard body.

  In the mirror, it seemed he felt the same way; a look of absolute pleasure lay upon his face. I watched his shoulders tense above me, pulling me into him. Pulling him deep into me.

  His eyes opened, and we locked gazes in the mirror. He grinned, mischievously, then began to move faster; each deep thrust a shockwave that travelled through my body. My arms began to droop, unable to stay raised against the increased movement. “Oh God!” I groaned. They ached so bad, but I needed to hold them up!

  He thrust against me hard, and my arms slipped just an inch. I knew what had happened a moment before I felt the result—the twine going taut, a sharp tug against my most sensitive of spots—and then sweet pain exploded across my body, there for only a moment before intense sensation returned, heightening all other activity in the area.

  I cried out, a cry of pleasure, and began pounding back into Ryan as hard as he was thrusting into me. The pain had sent an entirely new wave of endorphins coursing through my body; I was riding a wave of amplified feeling that had suddenly made the electricity of before into thunderbolts. I could feel them exploding inside me, sending strikes down my spine, in my toes, between my legs, and wherever a clothespin rested.

  This time, I lowered my hands intentionally, pulling the next pin free. Then the next, then the next. Each time it popped to dangle by the twine a wave of pain swept through me—pain that I was quickly associating with intense pleasure shortly after; pleasure that made the pain worthwhile.

  My core, wet and filled with Ryan’s manhood, began to tremble. I popped another clothes pin, the final one along my side, and the trembling became contractions. My eyes met Ryan’s again in the mirror as I cried out in climax. Sweat sprung to his forehead as everything became tight. His eyes grew suddenly wild, and then he was crying out too. His long, hard length swelled, filling me so completely that we were as one, and then he was shuddering inside me, his warmth exploding in sharp waves through my body.

  I couldn’t take it. I closed my eyes and dropped the weight completely. The last pegs—the ones covering my heaving breasts—all ripped loose at once, and I screamed out in pleasure as blood rushed painfully back to deprived vessels. My whole body was alive, filled by Ryan, completed by him.

  We fell gasping against the bedpost when done, his warm weight firm against my back, our bodies heaving in unison. Still in me, he reached around to undo the cuffs. As they fell free, his lips nuzzled my ear.

  And then he said the most wonderful thing in the world. The thing it seemed I’d been waiting my whole life to hear, if only I’d been smart enough to listen. “I love you too,” he whispered.

  EPILOGUE

  Post Script

  Posted by Miss Kitty [2 seconds ago]

  Hey Mister Death Palm. You know, the guy who read my palm on that first date and predicted certain death for me and everyone I came into contact with? Guess what?

  I’m still alive… Definitely, very much alive.

  Meow for now,

  Miss Kitty.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thanks for reading my The Billionaire and The Best Friend series!

  This trilogy has been a particularly interesting ride for me. When I first started writing Blind Date I had a totally different storyline in mind—but as sometimes happens with things like this, the characters too
k me in another direction. Rest assured, Tiff and Ryan were always going to end up together. But Edward? Well, he got a whole lot more sinister…

  Anyway, I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed the read as much as I enjoyed writing it. The sex scenes were so much fun to write, the action scenes were too!

  If you have enjoyed my work, you may also wish to consider reading my other works, which include the Servicing the Billionaire and Books & Billionaires series.

  I’m working on a new series even as we speak. If you want to know about it the moment it’s released, please sign up for my newsletter at www.nightvisionbooks.com/nikki-steele. You can find all of my books on Amazon at www.amazon.com/author/nikkisteele

  Nikki

  FURTHER READING

  Books by Nikki Steele

  I write about strong female characters that are independent and opinionated. I hope you enjoy my books!

  The Books & Billionaires Box Set

  They meet in a library during a snowstorm, and by the end of the night have found passion in each other’s arms. But Booker has a secret- one that threatens to turn Clara’s life upside down.

  It would be better for her if she never saw him again, but Booker won’t take no for an answer. And he’s rich, sexy and willing to do whatever it takes to get his way…

  Buy now on Amazon.

  The Servicing the Billionaire Box Set

  Anna is sexy, curvaceous and desperate for money. Jacob is the handsome billionaire that could make all her dreams come true.

  There's just one problem—Anna's love isn't for sale. She needs the money, and he has it, but it's also the one thing that's keeping them apart.

  As passion makes the lines between work and play start to blur, Anna must ask herself – can she hold back, or will she allow her body's desires to take over?

  Buy now on Amazon.