101 Nights Box Set: Volume One

by SE Reign

  With a sigh, I close my eyes and dismiss the tremor of fear and sadness that threatens to disturb my moment of calm. I need the time alone with quiet thoughts after my dramatic day. I’ve never been one for drama and yet, since meeting Elijah, that’s all I’ve experienced. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or when I see him again, assuming he doesn’t have Jamil just throw me out.

  “I take it you won’t consider letting me buy you a condo instead of this respect thing?” Elijah’s low voice is quiet, soft. It makes my heart jolt and take off like I’m in a mad sprint. Too deep in thought, I didn’t hear him enter or know how long he’s been standing out of sight behind me.

  Only you would ask something like that. “No,” I reply.

  The door closes behind him as he enters the bathroom. I open my eyes and sit up, drawing my knees to my chest and hugging them.

  Elijah is dressed the same way he was earlier. He sits on the edge of the tub, every bit the haughty, elegant prince he is. His brown gaze is steady, his five o’clock shadow already present. It gives him a dangerous edge, one that might look out of place on a different man but is stunning with his dark, chiseled features.

  He holds out what looks like a credit card. My gaze sweeps over his roped forearms again.

  He has a way of drawing me in over and over. Too curious to resist, I reach out, wipe my fingers on the towel behind my head, then take it.

  “Starbucks,” I say. “You got me a gift card.”

  “We won’t discuss what that place is like during rush hour. I fail to see the appeal.”

  “You actually went in?” I ask skeptically.

  “I did. Not that ten dollars can possibly mean much, but I think it’d mean even less if I sent someone else in.”

  Don’t smile, Natty. Don’t do it! My god – this man just can’t be consistent. I’ve never been so touched by a silly gift card. Knowing he went in to get it, that he bothered knowing his opinion on the idea, makes me think again I’ve pegged him wrong. Maybe there is some capacity for him to change.

  Unless this is a farewell gift.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, not at all certain what to think.

  “I thought about what you said.”

  I look at him, waiting with trepidation. He’s hard to read, more so when he’s making an effort to keep his features expressionless, like he is now. I’m trying to figure out if he’ll let me take my favorite pair of jeans from those he bought me or if I won’t have time to grab anything.

  “I will take your deal,” he says firmly. “There are a few conditions, though. One, in bed, I want a submissive whore. This can’t change. I like our sex life the way it is.”

  Am I really hearing this?

  “Two, you need to know I never apologize. Ever. That said, you might be somewhat right about how I treat you. I have never had a reason to respect anyone. Usually my money and title do the talking, but those seem to be lost on you.”

  I’m trying to figure out if he’s insulting me or not, when he goes on.

  “Three, I will make every effort to afford you the respect you have asked me for. It won’t extend to dealing with the press on your behalf, financials, business, and so on. I make all major decisions outside the two of us, but I will consult you for our personal affairs. You will have more independence, in the form of complete control over how you spend the stipend I’ve arranged for you and over the charity work you do. I only require you to coordinate your schedule with mine and that, if you decide to donate over two million to whatever cause, you call me and let me know.”

  Two million? Holy shit …

  “Those are the concessions I’m willing to make.” He gazes at me. “In exchange, I ask for one concession on your part. No time limit. We may last one day past our three months or we may last a year or longer. It’s not likely, but it’s possible. We can even arrive to the conclusion of our relationship together, if that is part of this respect shit.”

  Speechless, I stare at him. Of all the things I expected him to say, nothing he’s just told me is anywhere near.

  “If your answer is yes ...” He pulls a blindfold out of his pocket and places it on the corner of the marble block in which the tub is embedded. Without another word, he leaves.

  Five minutes later, I’m still staring in shock at the wall across from me, not quite able to grasp what I heard. Because, in reviewing everything he’s said, it almost sounds like he wants this to be real.

  We may last three months or we may last a year or longer.

  How else do I interpret this and his willingness to do something that is clearly outside his comfort zone? He not only agreed to try to be more thoughtful but he made the effort to go to Starbucks to get me a gift card, even though he despises them. I really doubt he’s ever set foot in a store we normal people go to before this. And a stipend? Full control over charity work?

  But it seems too utterly insane to think he really does like me or at least, wants to be with me beyond being obligated by our deal.

  I just … can’t … think. I was expecting to be kicked out, and here he is – completely blowing my mind.

  Only half aware of what I’m doing, I climb out of the tub and dry off then wrap the towel around me. Snagging the blindfold, I leave the bathroom.

  Elijah looks up, his eyes traveling down my body with enough interest to make me shiver. He’s seated in the living area of our suite, reading on his iPad. I stop a dozen feet from him, still unable to make sense of all the thoughts pinging around my mind.

  “You like me,” I say finally. It’s not what I wanted to say, but it’s what I’m thinking. “Why?”

  His intent gaze turns curious. There’s tightness around his eyes and mouth that makes me think he’s worried about something. He sets the iPad down and stands, keeping his distance. His shirt is open at the collar, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. He’s turned on, his arousal straining against the zipper of his pants.

  “Not sure I understand the question,” he says.

  “You could have any woman on the planet. She’d definitely never make you go to a Starbucks for a gift card or respect her, and she’d probably beg you for your heir, not forbid you from swapping out her pills,” I say. “I’d be a really bad business decision, if this was one of your projects.”

  This time, Elijah’s trace of a smile is one of genuine amusement not smugness. He approaches, stopping toe to toe with me. I can smell his rich, masculine scent, see the pulse that beats in his neck. His dark eyes are on mine, his hands in his pockets, as if he’s trying not to touch me.

  I realize he really is giving me some space to choose. If I came out with the blindfold on, I have no doubt I’d already be slung across the bed with his dick buried deep in my pussy.

  “I wouldn’t say really bad,” he answers.

  “EJ!”

  He chuckles. “Take it or leave it.”

  “I just want to know why.”

  “Make your choice, Natalie.” His voice is softer.

  He’s no closer to telling me why. I have a feeling, if I decline his offer, he’ll not only let me go but he’ll respect the deal we have in place. I’m not sure what makes me believe a man with questionable morals at best would do that, except that, standing before him now, I know there’s more to us than a business deal.

  And it’s not just me who feels that way. Some part of him, however small, does, too. A ten-dollar gift card from anyone else is two mochas.

  From Elijah, it’s the world. For what I’m guessing is the first time in his life, Elijah is attempting to show someone else he almost actually cares. I’m just not sure he’s capable of caring the way I need him to.

  This moment is what has scared me since the night of the gala. Knowing there’s a piece of me that wants to be here with him, that I might one day have a real choice in the matter.

  Knowing Elijah may never be the man I think he is but also certain I want to take that chance, even though I suspect we still have a lot of issues running under the r
ickety bridge we’re walking across.

  With a glance down at the blindfold, I lift it and tie it securely around my eyes.

  “Are you certain?” he asks.

  I nod and lick my lips nervously, not at all convinced I’m acting rationally about this.

  He tugs the towel free. It drops to my feet. I’m not sure what he’s planning and wait.

  Elijah takes my hands and leads me to the bed. I sit when I feel it bump my thighs.

  “Spread eagle,” he whispers. “Show me what you got.”

  I ease onto the bed. There are no posts on this one, but he taught me to keep my arms and legs spread, no matter where or how he touches me, the same way I keep them behind me with imaginary restraints.

  Heart racing, I lay on my back on the bed, blindfolded and pretending to be tied. I hear his zipper come down, followed by the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and wait in anticipation for him to touch me.

  “I’ll show you something new today,” he says. “Then I’m going to watch you fuck yourself and come in your mouth.”

  My breath catches. My body is already humming with desire and heat, and my pussy is swollen and wet for him.

  His weight sinks onto the bed beside me. The gentlest tickle of a feather drifts across one nipple. I shiver.

  “Be still,” he whispers. “Don’t move. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master,” I reply. Unable to see what he’s doing, my mind goes wild with possibilities while my skin grows more sensitive.

  The tickle is on my other breast. He moves the feather between the two of them and down my belly. So light, I want to laugh and squirm but know I’m not allowed to. It’s so hard to stay still with the teasing sensation, especially when it nears my hips. He trails it down one leg and to the sensitive skin of my inner thigh then does the same to the other before the feather grows even lighter and tickles the folds of flesh shielding my clit.

  I grit my teeth, trying to keep from moving.

  “Good girl,” he says, satisfied.

  The teasing continues up my body a second time, to my breasts, where he trails the feather across my tight nipples over and over, until I gasp, before moving up my chest to my neck.

  Don’t shiver, Natty! Oh, god, but I want to! The sensation is maddening. The feather goes down my jaw and across my lips then down my other jaw to my ear.

  He traces my ear, and I shiver, unable to help it.

  “We’ll try it again,” he says in disapproval.

  The feather travels down, over my straining nipples and lower belly, teasing my nether lips more insistently this time before he follows the path back up to my face.

  My body is quivering uncontrollably, and I brace myself for the final path. When he tickles my ear this time, I don’t move.

  “Good girl,” Elijah says in a whisper.

  I almost sigh when the feather is gone. I’m halfway hoping he’s got the little finger vibrator from earlier. I never knew such things existed but my god – it was fantastic.

  “Your turn.” I feel him place the handle of the feather wand in my hand.

  “On me?” I ask.

  “On you.”

  I feel the flush on my face. The only other time I masturbated in front of him, it was in the limo, and it was dark. I’m spread eagled on the bed this time with him seated beside me. After a brief hesitation, I start.

  It’s different than when he did it. I push it over my body, embarrassed.

  “Not so fast.” Elijah takes my hand and slows my movement, also lightening the touch. “It’s called pleasuring yourself for a reason.” He sounds amused.

  There’s something unsettling about enjoying what I do to myself in front of him. It seems to intimate. But I do as he says and move the feather around. He releases my hand.

  I trace it over my nipples, lingering, teasing them until I make myself gasp.

  Then I blush.

  “Good girl,” he says. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by anything we do in the bedroom. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” I wet my lips and refocus on the feather, slowing my hand to feel every inch of sensation I can as I take it down my own body. I tickle the sensitive area of my groin until it’s almost too much to bear.

  “Good. Arm back in place.”

  I obey. My body is quaking, my pussy so wet, I’m pretty sure I’ve soaked the bed beneath me. I wait anxiously for him to touch me again, to feel the firm, heated weight of his hand after the light as air sensation of a feather.

  As usual, Elijah has other plans. He removes the wand and slides a finger dildo over one index finger and another over my middle finger. He does the same to my other hand.

  He turns them on. The gentle, quiet vibration makes my fingers buzz.

  “One hand,” he says.

  I move my right hand towards my body. He takes my wrist and places it over the sensitive skin above my breast, keeping the touch light.

  “Control. You will not come until I tell you,” he reminds me. “Go.” He lets me go.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I’m curious. Usually, he’s the one in charge of my body, and I wonder if I’m able to do what he can. The light vibration is more solid than the feather but still a tickle. I run my hand slowly over my breast and arch when the vibrations hit my nipple, sending spikes of pleasure through me.

  “Good girl,” he says with a chuckle. “Pleasure yourself, Natalie. Show me how good fucking yourself can be.”

  I catch my breath then take the finger vibrators over my other breast. I’m ready for the sensation this time and run them back and forth across my nipple.

  I groan. I had no idea touching myself could feel so good!

  Elijah shifts, and I hear the sound of him stroking his dick. The idea he’s masturbating beside me makes me hotter, wetter, and more desperate for him to let me come or join him.

  My hand travels down my belly, the light vibrations stealing my sensations as I marvel over the response of my body. If this feels so incredible on my bare skin, how will this feel inside me?

  “No penetration,” he warns me when I reach my pussy.

  I groan in response and rest my fingers against the swollen skin hiding my clit.

  “Oh, god!” The pleasure is incredible!

  “Control,” he orders.

  I lift my hand and lay still, quivering, struggling to control my body’s reaction. The sound of him masturbating faster fills my ears, and I groan.

  “Please?” I ask. “Let me touch you?”

  “No. Two hands. No penetration. No orgasm.”

  “Elijah …”

  “Now.”

  Whimpering, I obey and place both hands on my body. The vibrating is driving me insane, the tease turning to torture. I follow the same pattern and run my hands over my breasts, pausing over both nipples to lose myself in the pleasure before I trace my curves then crisscross my belly.

  “Touch yourself like you mean it,” he urges me. “Stop worrying about what I think, Natalie.” There’s a breathless note in his voice, one I think comes from the sounds of him masturbating. “Convince me I should let you come.”

  Something within me unravels. He’s right; I’m afraid of him judging me, of enjoying myself too much, of making myself come in front of someone else. It just seems … weird.

  But god, right now, I need to come hard.

  I let myself listen to the sound of him stroking himself and lose myself in the sensations, touching myself in places that make me shiver and quake. The sensitive places behind my ears, my neck, the insanely amazing sensation of the vibrators across my lips. I slide two fingers into my mouth, fascinated by the vibrating, while my other hand roams back and forth across my breasts then down my belly.

  “Good girl. Keep going. No penetration, but you can touch yourself wherever else you need to.”

  I suck and lick the vibrating fingers in my mouth and remove them. My hands roam my body, testing, playing, and learning new, sensitive areas I never expected to be pleas
urable. The top of one hip is ticklish, the skin beneath my bicep.

  Oh, god the back of my neck! With one hand there and the other dangling over my pussy …

  “Elijah!”

  “Control.”

  I’ve never felt so sensual, so sexy as I do exploring my body. The idea he’s watching is becoming a thrilling one, knowing what I’m doing is making him just as horny. I let all my vibrating fingers linger over my pussy and close to my clit, until my breathing is hard, and I ache too much to control the straining climax.

  Elijah’s hand is stroking his dick faster and faster, a sign he’s close to coming, and my body is likewise near snapping.

  “Arms back in place,” he says suddenly. The sound of him masturbating stops, and I respond reluctantly. “You near the point of begging me yet?”

  “Yes,” I whisper hoarsely.

  “How does it feel to touch yourself?”

  “Amazing.”

  He shifts, this time to straddle my head. “Open.”

  I obey. Instead of his cock entering my mouth like I expect, he places something rubbery in it. It feels like silicone with firm nubs in varying size and height.

  “This is called a penis sleeve. You’re about to discover why it’s one of the top rated toys by women,” he says. There’s strain in his voice, a sign he’s close to coming. “Your job is to get it on my dick with your mouth.”

  I swallow and nod, still unable to see with the blindfold on.

  The tip of his dick is slick and salty as it slides into my mouth. Elijah doesn’t push into me like he usually does. I shift my head up, maneuvering the sleeve with my teeth further down his shaft. It’s more challenging than I expect, but finally, I’ve got it in place. He shoves his dick down my throat, where he prefers it to be.

  “Good girl.” He moves in and out of my mouth a few times.

  Unable to see what he’s doing, I jerk when I feel his fingers at my pussy. He slides them inside, and I spread my legs even wider, needing to feel everything he does to me.

  He tugs the blindfold off and tosses it.

  I gaze up at him, his dick in my mouth and fingers in my pussy.

  “You ready for me?” he asks, fire in his eyes.