The Billionaire's Marriage Deal

by Maisey Yates

  It was a shame. A shame that anything, any man, anyone, had made her hide herself. He wanted to tell her but the words stuck in his throat.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Are you blaming me for your lack of sleep, or just coming to share the misery?”

  “I am blaming you,” he said, anger so much easier to find than sincerity. “I have never had a problem dealing with sexual frustration, and trust me, Julia, twelve years of celibacy means I had my share.”

  Her eyes rounded. “I just assumed you didn’t want sex in all that time.”

  “I didn’t want the baggage. The reminder. I missed the orgasms. But it’s not a matter of a cold shower or taking care of things on my own, not now. Not when all I can think of is what’s missing.” The words were broken, scraped his throat raw on the way out. “The way you feel, the way you smell. The way you touch me. You have ruined things for me.”

  “Oh, gee, well, thanks.”

  “I want you. Now.” Need. It was so much more than want. It was need.

  “I…” For a moment, just a moment, she looked like she might say no, and he couldn’t bear it. He was shaking inside, with need, with…he didn’t even know what.

  “On our original terms,” he said. “I give the orders, and you say yes.”

  Control would help. Control was what he needed. A way to make this all make sense. A way to make it something he recognized. Something he could deal with.

  Julia looked into Ferro’s eyes, black, haunted, endless. A man who was wounded, hunted. She could see it. Feel the desperation. He was demanding control because it was the only thing holding him together.

  Because it was the only way he could handle things between them.

  “Yes,” she said. An agreement she shouldn’t make, but one she needed just as badly as he did.

  “Take your top off,” he said.

  “Here?” she asked, looking out the windows at the beach. It was a private beach, but even so.

  “Modesty from the woman who went stargazing on my roof naked?”

  Yes, but that had been different. A moment of connection and sweetness rather than this…intensity that was arcing between them.

  “This was not a request, Julia, it was an order. Take off your top, or I am going to leave.”

  She caught an even more revealing glimpse then. Of his frayed control. Of the reason behind the orders. And it hit her then that for all his dominant manner, Ferro wasn’t the one in control of this moment. She grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head.

  He looked at her breasts, covered by a black bra, and smiled. This wasn’t a light, charming smile. This one was dark. Wicked. Perfect.

  “Now your pants.”

  She obeyed this time without needing prompting, pushing her sweatpants down her legs and kicking them to the side, the game, the intensity, arousing her past the point of reason.

  “Now,” he said, “I want you to go upstairs. Walk ahead of me. Don’t turn around.”

  She sucked in a breath and turned away from him, walked toward the curved staircase. She felt completely on display. The stairs were open all the way up to the second floor, making the most of the view. But now, she had the feeling she was the view.

  She felt powerful, and vulnerable, weak and strong, at the same time. But then, being with Ferro had that effect on her. With him she felt more secure than she ever had, and more terrified of where her life was heading than she ever had. Happier with what she had, more afraid of the potential loss.

  Loss was the only place this could end.

  She swallowed hard and kept walking, the marble floor cold beneath her feet, and Ferro’s steps hard and purposeful behind her.

  She opened her bedroom door and paused, waiting for her next order, her heart pounding in her ears.

  “Get on the bed,” he said. “Look straight ahead.”

  She walked to the bed and got on it, as instructed.

  “Go to the center, on your knees.”

  She obeyed again, her hands trembling as she did. She heard his footsteps behind her, felt the mattress depress as he got on the bed.

  She felt the hot press of his mouth in the center of her shoulder blades and she shivered, pleasure streaking through her like a lightning bolt. She started to turn.

  “No,” he said. “Look ahead.”

  She took a breath and tried to keep her gaze focused on the curtains in front of her.

  “Do these open by remote?”

  She nodded.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “Over there.” She indicated a button by the nightstand, and Ferro pressed it. The curtains parted to reveal the ocean, the moon glimmering on the surface of the waves.

  “There,” he said, “now you have a view to keep you occupied.”

  He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then replaced his lips with his finger, tracing a line down the center of her back, ending just above the waistband of her panties.

  She felt like she was going to die of the slow, erotic torture he was wreaking on her.

  “You have a beautiful back, Julia. The first time I felt attraction for you was at the movie premiere, when you had all this skin on display. I didn’t recognize my feelings for what they were. I’d spent too many years ignoring them to identify them easily. But that’s what it was. And it was partly due to this gorgeous back.”

  He ran the tip of his finger between her shoulder blades.

  Then he reached down and undid the clasp of her bra. It fell forward and down her arms, she took it off the rest of the way, pushing it aside.

  He reached around and cupped her breasts, teased her nipples until she was breathing hard. Until she couldn’t think. She kept her eyes fixed on the moon, kept herself from turning around and kissing him.

  “Perfect,” he said. “You are so perfect. Now I want you to grab on to your headboard, can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  She obeyed his command, her heart beating harder now. She wanted to look at him. Wanted to touch him. Wanted to connect with him. This was great, it felt great, but she wanted to see him. Wanted to try to read his emotions. And he wasn’t allowing it.

  Then she forgot to be bothered, because as she took ahold of the headboard, he started to tug her panties down, leaving them on just above her knees. Then he gripped her hips and pulled her toward him, pressed an intimate kiss to her damp flesh, slid his tongue through her folds.

  Then he straightened, pushing a finger inside her. “Ready for me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She could hear him tearing open a condom packet, could hear him undoing the buckle on his belt and a pause while she assumed he was applying the protection.

  Then he was pushing inside her, impossibly deep, filling her to the point of discomfort for a moment, before her body acclimated and pain gave way to pleasure.

  “Good?” he asked, his voice rough, his movements slow.

  The only response she had was a deep moan as she lowered her head and held on to the bed for all she was worth.

  He thrust into her hard, one hand braced just beneath her breasts, the other on her hip, as he found his rhythm. She could feel the moment his control started to shred, when each thrust brought a short groan from his lips, his movements becoming more desperate, harder, faster.

  Finally she had to look. Had to touch. Had to taste. She turned and captured his mouth with hers.

  When she broke the kiss, she looked at his eyes, blank, bleak. A man haunted. A man possessed. He moved his hand to cup her breast, shifted the other one so that it was between her thighs, stroking the source of her pleasure.

  And then that was all she could feel. All she could think about. The release that was building in her, drawing her body so tight she was sure i
t would break her.

  But just as she reached her limit, its hold broke, the tension unraveling, sending her into a free fall as endless waves crashed over her, flooded through her. He moved his hands to her hips, stiffening behind her, a harsh growl signaling his own release.

  He lay down, bringing her with him, keeping her so that her back was to him. He held her close, saying nothing, his heart pounding heavily, so much so she could feel it echoing in her own body.

  He was still dressed. His shirt was scratchy on her back, his belt buckled digging into her butt. “Could you scoot?” she asked. “Or, why don’t you just take your clothes off.”

  She turned over and kissed him, but he didn’t kiss her back. “Ferro?”

  He sat up and she thought maybe he was going to get undressed. But then he stood and removed the condom, redoing his belt buckle on his way into her bathroom to dispose of the protection.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m leaving.”

  Panic clawed at her, and she tried to calm it down. Because it was useless to get all worked up. Useless to show her pain and her worry over such a simple statement. Except she felt the deeper meaning in it. What he was really saying.

  Still, she tried to ignore it. Tried to play it down.

  “If you’re worried about not having a toothbrush, you can use mine. And before you say gross, I’m pretty sure we’ve swapped enough germs to…”

  She trailed off when she looked at his expression. At his eyes. So detached. Unfocused. He wasn’t even looking at her.

  “Ferro, don’t do this,” she said.

  “Don’t do what, Julia?”

  “You know what you’re doing, don’t pretend. You’re trying to put distance between us, that’s what all of this has been about. All of tonight.”

  “I don’t have to try to put distance between us. That’s all there has ever been between us. Our bodies have been close, we have not been.”

  “That’s not true. It’s not.”

  “It is. I’m sorry if that’s a hard truth for you, Julia, but it is.”

  “You are such a coward!” she said, screamed, really, because she couldn’t believe what he was doing. Couldn’t believe that he was standing there in slacks and a button up shirt, perfectly pressed still, ready to walk out the door like nothing had happened, while she was naked and rumpled and completely altered by what had happened between them.

  “A coward, Julia? Is that what you think? You attribute far too much emotion to me, cara mia.”

  “You hide so well, Ferro, you even manage to hide from yourself. But you can’t hide from me. I know you.”

  “You think you know me because I told you some stories about my past? Because we slept together?”

  “No, I think I know you because I understand how those things made you feel. I understand that you don’t feel all blasé and whatever about your past. I know that it hurts. I know you won’t let yourself move on because you feel dirty. Because you’re so scared. Of what, I don’t know. But you cling to your past like you need it to protect you. To remind you.”

  “Look at you pretending you have it all figured out. You’re hiding, too, Julia.”

  “I was. You’re right. But…I’m not going to now. I can’t now. I was so afraid to ever trust. How could I trust anyone? Ever. How could I show I was vulnerable? Look what happened to me when I tried. My mother, my own mother, chose a date for me who tried to rape me. Of course I had trouble with it. Of course I hid. But you made me see how great it was to just come out and be me. I trust you. With everything. Everything I have, everything I am. I love you, Ferro. We both deserve more than we’ve given ourselves. Who cares what anyone else thinks? Who cares about the past? We have a present. We have a future, why should the past get all the play?”

  “You don’t love me, Julia. You’re just a girl who got introduced to sex and thinks an orgasm is the same as feelings.”

  The barb hit its mark, sinking in deep, the pain in her chest radiating outward. Again, she’d shown herself, all of herself, to someone, and again she had been rejected.

  “You don’t get to tell me what I feel,” she said, anger propelling her forward rather than letting her hide. “I love you.”

  “Dammit, woman, where is your sense of self-preservation? You were better off with your armor than you are showing off all your emotion for the world to see. To use against you. Do you know how easily crushed you are?”

  Julia sucked in a breath. “Does my emotion frighten you?” she asked. He said nothing so she pressed on. “I’m sorry my passion and enthusiasm and human emotion make you uncomfortable, Ferro. I am.” She paused, focused on what she felt, on all the emotion that was coursing through her. And she realized how much she’d held back, for so long, in order to please others. She was done with that. Starting now.

  “No, you know what? I’m not sorry. I’m done apologizing for being me. I’m done feeling bad for being who I am. I’m a geek. And I laugh too loud, because when I think something is funny, I think it’s really funny. If I like a game or a movie, I really like it. Like, dress up in costume like it. I will never fit in. I will never be normal. And when I love someone…I love with everything. With all of me. Ferro, I love you. If that bothers you, fine. But I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to sublimate it, or play it cool. I’m going to shout it, and feel it, breathe it, live it, and no one is going to tell me I can’t, or it’s wrong, or it’s embarrassing. Yeah, I’m through apologizing. I’m done hiding. I love you. I’m not sorry. So it’s your move now. You have to tell me no if that’s what you want, but you can’t pretend that I don’t know my mind, that this is somehow not real. If you’re going to reject me, you have to face what it is you’re rejecting.”

  When she finished, she was breathing hard, but she felt more alive, more her, than she had for years. If Ferro was going to reject her, he had to reject her. Not some polished version of herself she’d created to seem more powerful, more capable. But the version of herself he’d brought back to the surface.

  The girl who had had unreserved enjoyment in life, who had cared about everything, from games to prom, so much. The girl she’d stuffed down and hidden to avoid getting hurt. Well, now she was standing with everything out in the open, vulnerable, easily destroyed. But she had to do it. For him. For them.

  “This has been an enjoyable arrangement for me,” he said, his voice monotone. “I hate to see it end. However, it’s clear to me that it must.”

  She wanted to scream at him. She bit her lip, a tear falling down her cheek. He was hiding. Hiding still. Behind a mask. Behind his scars.

  “You know we can’t really go back,” she said. “We’ll never go back to how things were. We were stupid, Ferro. We thought we would control it, but it controlled us.”

  “I’ll go back,” he said, his voice hard. “Like it never happened, cara. Because that’s what I do. Sex is nothing to me. Nothing.”

  “You don’t mean that. Not with me.”

  “As you’ve been such a good lover, I would like to increase your payment.” Another tear fell and she shook her head, begging him, internally, not to do this. But he continued. He bent down and picked up the computer bag he’d brought with him, pulled out a folder. “Everything I have collected on your company over the past five years. Some of it I haven’t even looked at yet. It was for use at a later date. After our peaceable term ended. But I’m giving it to you. With the promise that I will never make an attempt at bringing Anfalas down. You’re safe from me.”

  He extended the folder to her, as if he expected her to take it and thank him for it.

  “I don’t want it,” she said.

  “That’s not how this works, Julia. You gave me sex, I’m giving you payment.”

  “I gave you my damn soul, Ferro. You can’t buy that.”

&n
bsp; “But I didn’t ask for your soul, my dear.” His special endearment for her, in English for the first time. “I only asked for your body, so it is all I will pay for.”

  “You have to cheapen it, don’t you? Not so you’ll understand it, but so you can put it with the rest of the things in your life you’re ashamed of. Because you like shame, don’t you? It keeps you insulated. Keeps you from having to move on. Protects you from your feelings.”

  “I don’t have feelings, Julia. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

  “Tell me you don’t love me,” she said, because she was perverse, because she had to hear it. “Tell me, and I’ll take your ‘payment’ and I’ll let you go.”

  “I don’t love you.”

  Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Great. Then it’s really over.” She bent down and took the folder from the bed, held it over her bare breasts, needing cover now. Ashamed of her nudity. She wiped a tear from her cheek and lifted her hand, treating him to her best Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper. And get the hell out of my house.”

  Ferro nodded once and then turned around, walking out of her room, closing the door firmly behind him. Julia sank onto the bed, her legs trembling, her stomach threatening to rebel and release its contents.

  She swallowed hard. Then she lay down, still holding the folder tight against her chest, and cried.

  * * *

  Ferro stormed out of Julia’s house and to his car, the engine roaring to life with the push of a button on his phone.

  It was done. What he’d needed to do was done.

  He couldn’t stay with her. Couldn’t indulge himself any longer. The woman was too destructive to him. She was too adept at reaching inside him and making him feel things. It was like she was hot-wiring his soul, reconnecting wires that had long ago been cut. Sending jolts of emotion and need and pain through him.

  And what it had done to his control was unacceptable. Unprotected sex first, and then his outburst in the meeting. And tonight he’d come to prove that he still had the power in the relationship. That he was in charge. That he was not at the mercy of one skinny blonde who should, by all rights, drive him completely insane.