by Claire Adams
He brought his hot, wet mouth upon my icy flesh, kissing and suckling my nipples in turn and then applying the ice again. My panties just kept getting wetter and wetter until I was gasping and panting on the countertop.
"What's the matter? You seem to be having a hard time sitting still," he taunted me.
"Sorry, master. I just want you to fuck me," I explained.
"You don't decide when I fuck you. Only I do. Now let me teach you what happens to naughty girls who can't sit still."
He flipped me over so my breasts were flat against the cool granite kitchen counter and tugged my panties off with rough hands. He wadded them into a ball and shoved them into my mouth like a gag. I heard the sound of duct tape being ripped off a roll and felt the sensation of a piece of tape covering my mouth to hold the silky gag into place.
Ethan ripped more tape off the roll, and I felt him untie the silk robe from my wrists. My freedom only lasted a moment, for he pulled my hands up over my head and duct taped my wrists together. I tried to pull my arms back towards my body only to discover I couldn't. He had bound my hands to some kind of metal object. In my blindness, I guessed that it must be the tall faucet of the kitchen sink.
"Now, naughty girl. I will teach you lesson." Ethan's voice sounded cruel and edgy, but I wasn't afraid. On the contrary, I was thrilled as my body pulsed with anticipation. What wonderful punishments did he have in store for me? I couldn't wait to find out, but I would have to, for he had disappeared.
I waited for what felt like an eternity, my anticipation being drawn out as I wondered where he had gone, when was he coming back, and what would he do when he returned. My ears strained, searching for any sign of him, and my skin prickled, searching for changes in the air, but there was nothing.
Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer and I began to squirm in my bonds, trying to get free. That's when Ethan made himself known to me with a sharp smack on my ass. He'd been there the whole time, watching me, waiting for me to move so he could punish me.
Again, and again he brought the object down upon my naked ass, pleasuring my body with the pain he knew I loved. It took me a little while to identify what he was using. The surface was flat, pliable, square, and felt metallic in nature. Finally, I figured it out: he was spanking with a spatula from the kitchen drawer.
My breathing became moans of pleasure as I panted and screamed into the gag, and my pussy kept getting wetter. I was desperate for him to fuck me, but he knew it.
"You like that, don't you, naughty girl?" he taunted me as he rubbed the spatula against my flesh one moment and then smacked my round buttocks with it the next.
Unable to speak, I simply nodded my head.
"Let's see if you like this more," he said and I felt him cut the duct tape binding my wrists with a knife. He brought me up to a standing position and used a fresh piece of tape to bind my hands behind my head, in the position of someone who was under arrest.
"Let's see if you like this." Suddenly, he struck my breasts with something round, flat, and wooden. I recoiled and gasped into my gag, but I was unable to escape the onslaught of quick and tiny smacks with the strange object, as he tatted it all over my vulnerable breasts. After a moment, I realized he was using a wooden spoon, and my body rippled with pleasure as I moaned loudly through my gag.
When he thought I'd had enough, Ethan stopped and removed the blindfold from my eyes and I blinked into the light. Then, he gently peeled away the duct tape covering my mouth. I spit out the gag, and he held a cup of cool water to my lips for me to drink.
"Tell me, naughty girl, have you learned your lesson about staying still?"
"Yes, master," I said contritely, even though I'd found his punishment to be nothing but pleasurable.
"Good. Now let me give you chance to prove it to me." He lifted me into his arms and carried me across the kitchen. There was a small wooden table in the breakfast nook, and he laid me down upon it. He cut the tape from my wrists and lay my hands flat on the table, then he spread my legs wide and commanded me to hold my ankles.
In his deep, sexy voice, he instructed, "Don't move a muscle unless I tell you to, or I won't let you come."
"Yes, master," I agreed. Abruptly, he brought his hot mouth down upon my pussy. His tongue licked my clit with expert skill, making me cry aloud with pleasure as I was brought quickly to near orgasm.
Then, he began to fuck me with various items from the kitchen. The handle of a spatula, a carrot from the fridge, and then an ear of uncooked corn. He would stimulate just long enough to bring me to near orgasm, and then, cruelly, he would stop, leaving me wanting more.
I wanted to reach out and grab him so he would fuck me, but I held fast to my ankles, refusing to move until he told me to. It was a fun game, and the most excruciating torture to force myself not to reach for him when he was arousing me so and then not letting me orgasm.
"Good girl," Ethan praised me, just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer. "Now, you get your reward."
He brought me down off the table, and we lay on the kitchen floor together. He let me climb atop of him and fuck him as hard and as fast as I wanted to. I orgasmed almost instantly. Then we rolled over on the floor and he was atop of me, making love to me with passionate kisses as our bodies undulated as one. He hands explored every part of me as my hands did the same to him, feeling his muscles and the smoothness of his skin as he fondled and caressed me. We thrust together in perfect unison, in a tangle of arms and legs, and he brought me to orgasm yet again.
"I'm coming," I moaned. He kissed my neck as he plunged deeply into me.
"Me, too," he groaned. I felt the power of his explosion as his muscles shuddered and our bodies spasmed together in delirious ecstasy. The pleasure of having an orgasm with someone you truly love is so much more powerful than mere fucking can be, and we both felt the power of it in the moment as our two bodies became one in beautiful ecstasy.
Afterward, he carried me to my bed in Gwyneth's guest bedroom where I'd made my home and we made love again, late into the night.
"Thank you for coming back to me," Ethan whispered as we were drifting off to sleep together and he held me in his arms.
"Thank you for letting my follow my dreams. It means the world to me that you wanted to give me the career I wanted, even if it meant losing me. That's how I knew we had to be together."
"It's true what they say: if you love something, set it free," he mused. "I'm just glad I won't have to live without you."
"You never will again. Come with me to Europe and stay with me while I do the shoot over there."
"Not fair. I have a career here running Speed Motorcycles. You can't just ask me to give that up," he said, but I knew he was teasing from the smile twinkling in his eyes.
"Fine, don't come with me then," I called his bluff.
"Well, as it turns out, I also have to go to Europe to supervise a new modeling shoot. We've hired a terrific girl to be the new face of our ad campaign. She's a gorgeous blonde, really sexy and sweet."
"Sounds like I should be jealous. Maybe I don't want you working with this girl," I teased.
"Don't worry. You have nothing to worry about. She knows I'm married."
"What?" I sat up in bed.
"That is, if you'll have me." He reached over the side of the bed where his jacket was laying and pulled out a ring. Holding it out to me he said, "Kayla Brandt, will you marry me?"
"Yes, a billion times yes," I cried out happily, and tears of joy rolled down my cheeks as he slipped the enormous, princess-cut diamond ring onto my finger. It was the second most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Ethan's eyes when he looked at me was the first.
I kissed him passionately. When we made love for the first time as an engaged couple, it was even more amazing than it had been before.
"I don't think I've ever been this happy," I told Ethan, as we cuddled afterwards and I held my hand up so we could admire the way my diamond ring sparkled in the moonlight that was streaming throu
gh my bedroom window.
"Me neither," he confessed, but there was a subtle strain in his voice and I picked up on it. He sounded stressed, or worried, and I had to know why.
Looking him straight in the eyes so there would be no secrets between us, I asked him, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
"You don't have to act invincible with me. I can tell when something is bothering you. If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're going to have to get used to sharing all your hopes and fears with me. Now what's wrong?"
"Nothing. That's what's wrong." Ethan sighed heavily, and I didn't understand. Caressing my hair, he explained more clearly. "All my life, something has always been wrong. This is the first time I've been truly content and it scares the shit out of me."
"I'm scared, too," I confessed. "All the men in my life have wanted to use me and didn't really love me. Never before have I felt truly secured and cherished."
"So, I guess we're just two people who are scared shitless together." He grinned, and I couldn't help but laugh. "That's how we know we're meant for each other."
It wasn't the most romantic way to put it, and yet it was perfect. Ethan was right; we were meant to be together, and the fact that he was just as afraid of it as I was proved it.
Chapter Forty
Ethan
"Smile for the camera," someone said. I put my arm around Kayla and I stared into the lens with my best grin as she smiled radiantly beside me. The view of the ocean was behind us, with the sun starting to set on the horizon, creating a stunning background for the perfect picture.
"Perfect, thanks." The photographer looked at the image on his digital camera, and nodded with satisfaction. "This will be the new cover of Speed Magazine."
"I don't think so. I'm not the model; my wife is." I swiped at him, trying to grab the camera, but he moved just out of my reach.
Joey was one of Kayla's favorite photographers and followed her everywhere. She was as used to having her picture taken as she was breathing air, but I found it a little harder to get used to.
"That's what makes this perfect," Joey said in response to my objection. "The owner and CEO of the company Ethan Colson celebrating his one-year anniversary with the love of his life, supermodel Kayla Brandt-Colson. The two of you are one of the world's hottest couples and the media will eat it up.
“People will be clamoring to read next month's issue of Speed Magazine when they see this image of you and Kayla cheek to cheek on the cover. Now give me one more shot, this time of the two of you kissing."
"No way; our intimate personal time is private. No photography. Now get out of here before I'm forced to fire you and take your camera," I shouted out, but there was no anger in my voice, just love for my wife.
Joey was right; the public craved images of us together, and since we kept our private life well-guarded, images of us as a couple were rare, making them even more sought after. We had a contract with Joey that we would buy any photographs he took that we didn't want to go public. It kept him loyal to us and gave us control of all photos seen by the public.
"How do you deal with having your picture taking all day? It's exhausting," I said to Kayla as I leaned back into a reclining chair on the beach and a waiter brought us each fresh drinks.
"It can be, but that's why I'm careful to book plenty of relaxation time between photo shoots." She grinned at me, and her smile was even more radiant than it had been a moment ago.
Being with just one woman made her even sexier to me than a string of one-night stands. I knew Kayla's body better than anyone and could make her orgasm with just a touch. Nothing could be hotter, and as impossible as it was, I swear her breasts seemed to have gotten even bigger and her hips were definitely rounder. She was becoming softer and more voluptuous, and I wanted to make love to her constantly, and she responded to my touch with the same passionate desire. A full year into our marriage, and we were still fucking like newlyweds.
"What do you want to do for our anniversary tonight?" I asked her. "The sky's the limit."
"Well, you've already brought me here to this tropical island. We're staying in our own private bungalow right on the beach, and this morning, we made love under a waterfall in that secluded lake we found hidden in the jungle. We were serenaded by parrots and wild birds, and then served this fantastic lunch of fish caught fresh from the ocean this morning. What more could a girl want?"
"There has to be something special you want to do," I insisted. "You worked so hard last month, I only saw you a few days. You're becoming as bad of a workaholic as I used to be. I want to make sure you don't forget how to relax and have fun."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan on taking lots of time off very shortly. We'll spend days hanging out in the park, taking long walks, and just enjoying life."
"So, why were you working so much? I know that the year we were engaged, your modeling career far surpassed just being the ad-campaign girl for Speed Motorcycles. Within months of our engagement, you were being asked to model for the covers of major magazines and posed for some of the top companies in the country.
“Major corporations would fly you around the world, and offered you huge salaries, to pose with their products or to put your face on their magazine ads. Your rise to fame was unprecedented."
"That still drives you crazy," she teased me, and I leaned over from to chair to swat her ass playfully in mock aggravation. She raised up her ripe buttocks, allowing me to make contact with her round cheek, and when it vibrated under the impact of my palm, we both felt a thrill.
"No, it doesn't. I'm secure enough in my manhood to let my wife thrive. Besides, I'm proud of you."
"So why are you going on about it?" she taunted, making me grin. She'd gotten up from her beach recliner and straddled me on mine so she could tickle my chest with her manicured fingernails.
I put my hands on her waist and slid them up her pale body to cup her breasts. Fondling them gently, I said to her, "Because, you've been able to set your own demands and work schedule for almost two years straight now. You've always been really good about keeping your work schedule within reason so we'd have enough time to spend together. Having you out on photoshoots all day, every day for nearly a month was tougher on me than I'd like to admit."
"Sorry, but I needed to get in as much work as I could before my body starts to change and I can't model anymore. This last month may mark the end of my career for quite a long time."
"What are you talking about? Is this because you’re getting older? Don't worry, sweetheart. The shelf life of a model is short, but it's not that short. You still have plenty of years left to enjoy your career."
"Oh, I know that. But if I lose my skinny body, then I won't be as marketable. Besides, I don't think I'll want to work anymore, at least not for a few years. I think I'll want to stay at home, like my mother did."
"Don't tell me you’re burnt out on your career already? You've only been doing it a few years and you act like you really love it. Some days when you come home from work, you're smiling so big, I wonder if I shouldn't be jealous that you love your career more than you love me."
It was a joke and she giggled. Tickling my chest again, she said with a smile, "Don't worry, I don't love anything more than you. It's just that I'm pregnant."
"What?" I sat up straight so suddenly, I nearly knocked her off my lap. "I don't think I heard you right. Say that again."
"I'm pregnant." She was absolutely beaming as she smiled at me. I'd never seen her looking more radiantly beautiful.
"Are you sure? I thought you were on the pill." I gaped like a moron.
"I was, but it's not a hundred percent effective. I went to see my doctor when I had the flu last month, and she told me that it was morning sickness. I was six-weeks pregnant."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I was still in shock and didn't know how to feel.
"Because I knew you would worry and make me quit my job."
"Damn right, I would. Y
ou can't be on your feet all day in harsh weather conditions with nothing on but a bikini, keeping your weight down by starving yourself. My baby needs good nutrition, and his mother needs to pamper herself and relax." I was instantly protective and felt a glow in my heart I knew was pride and pure love.
"So, I told my agent, and he got my clients to compact their photo shoots into a one-month period of time. I was able to complete all the work I had committed to for the rest of the season in just four, short weeks, and now I'm officially on hiatus. I won't be accepting any new modeling jobs until after the baby is born, and maybe not at all."
"You're really doing this?" I could hardly believe how rapidly our lives had changed, and she nodded her head. I could see from the smile in her eyes and the glow in her cheeks that she was really happy, and I was, too.
Just over two, short years ago, I'd thought I was living the dream life with my secretary blowing me under my mahogany desk in my billion-dollar company offices, but I'd never been more wrong.
True happiness wasn't money, empty affairs, or even success. True happiness was this right here: having found someone you love who loves you, too, and turning that passion into a baby to raise and love together.
As I kissed Kayla with the tropical beach behind us and felt the love we had for each other envelop us, I knew that at long last, I had healed the wounds of my youth and was truly living the dream every man wanted, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
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INVESTIGATED BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.