by Claire, Ava
"Doesn't matter now," I whispered, walking to the bed and sinking into the mattress. What came next was pretty obvious—no way Jacob would let our exchange fly, especially in front of a client. I'd gone from applicant to research aide to personal assistant to the boss....and now, back to unemployment.
The door echoed with knocks and I peeked at it. Probably the staff removing me from the premises. Another sets of knocks, more urgent followed—along with a familiar voice that made my heart stop.
"Leila, open the door."
I kicked my legs over the edge of the bed and snatched the door open, lips rounding in shock. "Jacob."
The side of mouth curled upward. "So you do know how to obey."
He was upon me, his lips crashing into my lips as he kicked the door closed with his foot. I had no time to catch my breath as he spun me around and slammed me against the door. The spasm of pain was dulled by the tenderness of him holding the sides of my face. It was confusing; the mixture of force and power as he pinned me in place contrasting with him caressing me like I was something precious.
He pulled back, scanning my face and gauging my reaction. I brought a shaky hand to my lips, still feeling him there before I let out a giggle.
"I guess this means I still have a job."
His eyes sparkled and when he smiled, I felt the warmth in it down to my very bones. It was quickly replaced by lust as he roped an arm around my waist and pulled me in close.
"The last thing I want to talk about right now is work."
His touch tightened, the hands at the curve of my back venturing down until he clutched my ass. His mouth possessed mine and with those luscious lips pressed against me I knew I was in major trouble. The boom boom in my chest was more than arousal, the blood rushing through my veins more than the fantasy of finally being with him. I'd do anything for him.
Anything.
When we came up for air, he reached around and unhinged my scarf. My hands instantly flew to my hair, but he brought them back down with a look that made my core clench. Without using a single word, he'd just given me an order.
He ran his pointer along my jaw line and even that slight touch made me tremble for more. But his hands didn't drop to the usual suspects; not to my breasts, finding my nipples solid and aching, or down further, to the part of me that was dripping wet. No—he bit his lip as he toyed with the stray curls from my bun. He reached to the base of my neck, unwrapping my ponytail and freed my wild hair. He threaded his fingers through my locks before dropping his mouth to my ear.
"That's better."
I let out a moan and reached for his pants, trying to get at him, trying to be with him totally and completely, but he gripped my wrists.
"Are you ready?" His eyes ravaged me. "Are you ready to submit to me?"
"Yes," I said without batting an eye. "Whatever you want me to be, whatever you want." I reached out, holding his cheek. "I'm yours."
He put his hand over mine and squeezed before taking a step back and practically growling at me. "You do nothing without my permission.” His bottom lip quivered. “Take off your clothes."
The uncertainty that made me hesitate before was impossible now with him looking at me like I was the sexiest thing he'd ever laid eyes on. I stripped in record time and stood naked, waiting for further instruction.
His hand dropped to the crotch of his pants and I watched him tug at his erection as he poured over every inch of me. I wanted to touch myself too, to drop my hands to the center of me, but he hadn't said so.
"Get on the bed,” he said thickly. “On your stomach, ass in the air."
The curse on his tongue sent pangs of lust ricocheting over me and something as simple as walking became laborious. Somehow I made it to the bed, only clenching my butt muscles once before I decided to relax.
He wants you.
All of you.
I moved onto the bed, the friction of the sheets against my heated flesh making me all but writhe for release. I could feel his eyes and it sent heat rippling over my body. When I peeked over my shoulder, I saw him unbuckling his pants. My eyes doubled in size as I took in every part of him. From his broad, muscular shoulders, down his chiseled abs to the sight of him in all his glory.
Glory didn’t do it justice. He had the most beautiful cock I’d ever seen. It was thick and veiny, protruding from a mass of ebony curls.
"Oh my,” I whispered, an uncontrollable moan rattling in my throat.
He gave me a grin that was pure lust and danger. "You like what you see?"
God yes, I thought, but I could only manage another moan as he joined me on the bed. He moved his fingers along my spine and I arched into the sensation.
"Up,” he barked.
I rose up on my arms and legs, on all fours. When I felt the head of his cock rubbing against my cheeks, my limbs turned to jello. I didn't know if I could wait much longer. I needed him as badly as my next breath.
I rocked backward, feeling one hand on my hip, his other thumping his erection against my rear. Already I felt myself teetering close to the edge, like the smallest movement would send me falling into bliss.
Somewhere in the jumbled fog of arousal my brain put two and two together and I pleaded with him. "Please, Jacob."
As if he was waiting for me to beg him, he punched inside me with a guttural moan that I echoed. My muscles strained to take him on, sparks of pain swirling about waves of ecstasy. My heart was no longer roaring in my chest or my ears but instead, beating in the place between my legs. It beat for Jacob.
His hands dug into my hips as he rowed in and out of me, the sound of skin and bodies colliding the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
"Sweetheart," he murmured. "Leila."
The sound of my name was enough to push me into bliss, but I gripped my climax with both hands, remembering. You do nothing without my permission.
"Please, Jacob. Let me come. Let me come."
He kept pounding, strong and sure, and when I felt him trembling, I worried that I couldn't wait any longer. Not with him filling me so completely and struggling to hold tight to his own self-control.
"Come," he said, his voice betraying his own nearness. "Come with me."
I released everything and I felt my body contracting, holding onto him for dear life. He was coming too; I could tell from the way he held me as if I was the only thing keeping him grounded. I cried out his name, over and over and he said mine. Both of us; together, lost and found in each other.
I felt hollow when he pulled from me, but eagerly dropped down to the mattress with exhaustion. I scooted to one side, wanting him to join me. The only way this wouldn't be a dream was if I felt his arms wrapped around me. He didn’t disappoint.
"Can I ask you a question?" I said softly, hating myself for knowing it was something that would sour what we’d just done together. But I couldn’t ignore it. It was killing me.
He kissed my shoulder. "Mmhm."
"What happened between you and Rachel?"
He let out an annoyed sigh. "Leila, I'm with you. Why ruin a good thing?"
"But-"
"Not right now." There was a finality that shut the book and I tried to let it go.
He's with you, I thought, snuggling closer. That's all that matters. With his arms tight around me, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, I almost believed it.
Part Three
The Billionaire’s Passion
I was in that fuzzy place between dream and awake. Unicorns flapped their glittered wings as Jacob and I floated down the Grand Canal. Our toes grazed the surface of the turquoise water and the night sky was lit up with fireworks that gobbled up the dark, leaving nothing but light and passion.
Before, I would have held tight to that place where he was mine and anything was possible, but I forced my eyes open with a smile still on my face. I breathed in the warmth of his cologne then ran my fingertips along the dark hair that lined his forearm. Jacob Whitmore had not only given me the best sex I'd ever had, bu
t he also didn’t steal away as soon as I drifted off to sleep.
Reality was finally better than any dream I could conjure up.
I let my eyes glaze over his sleeping form. The sprinkle of light streaming in from the window turned his golden skin a kaleidoscope of brown, each shade more luscious than the last. I moved my hand up to his muscled bicep, the firmness of it making my body clench with want. Half his face was in shadow, but the part I could make out was beautiful in the morning light. The strong jawline, sharp nose, high forehead—all of it was perfection, like Michelangelo himself had chiseled him from marble. I let my fingers run through his mahogany locks, playing with the soft waves that fell perfectly back into place. He looked amazing and I-
I went rigid. He looked perfect, like he had a group of makeup artists waiting in the wings, but I looked anything but.
I didn't need a mirror to know that my curly hair was a knotted mess. I was betting that I had sleep caked around my eyes and a healthy dose of dried up drool around my mouth. And my breath—oh God morning breath...
“Crap,” I whispered in a silent panic, almost leaping to my feet before I realized any sudden movement might wake him and he'd discover that he’d gone to bed with me and woken up with the Bride of Frankenstein.
I sucked in air between clenched teeth and tried to calm the nerves that were making me shake. I just had to take it slow. Nice and slow.
I shuffled my hips to the right, stopping when he stirred. I glanced back and saw the hem of my nightgown was pinned beneath him. I shimmied out of it, lying there for a moment, butt naked. I counted to sixty twice before I tried moving again, wiggling until I came to the edge of the bed. I just had to swing my feet over and I could duck into the bathroom.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I gripped the cover, his question gluing me in place.
Shit shit shit. "H-hey! Just running to the bathroom." I brought myself up, making sure he couldn't see my face. "I'll be right back."
"Not so fast." His voice was thick with sleep but the authoritative tone was crisp and awake. "I want you."
Three words and I couldn't help but look back at him, wondering if he was still conked out. But his eyes were hardened obsidian and when he licked his lips and reached for my arm, I just about melted into him. He wasn’t asleep. He wanted me. Crazy hair, drool, and all. It excited me—and made me even more self-conscious.
"I'm just gonna take a quick shower,” I said with a nervous grin. “Five minutes tops.”
"No." Anger gripped the word so tight it sent a pang of fear through me. "You're going to lie back down."
"B-But-"
I wasn't sure how a man of his stature launched from the bed and towered over me in a blink of an eye, but he pulled it off and I found myself sliding back onto the mattress. His gaze was terse and domineering.
"For once, you're going to shut your mouth and do exactly as I say."
I should have told him that it was too early for him to be pulling this BDSM stuff but instead, his coarse order made me hot. Hot enough to forget that I wasn’t looking my best. Hot enough that when I opened my mouth, it wasn’t to say something snarky.
“What do you want me to do?” I swallowed, remembering the brief reading I’d done on the plane about being a good submissive. “What do you want me to do...sir?”
I saw the word ripple over him and my eyes dashed over his impressive muscles, down to his pelvic cut. My body vibrated at the realization that he wasn’t wearing a shred of clothing either. My survey continued, dropping to the one part of him that his signature control could not restrain. It pointed to me, calling me out. Choosing me.
I licked my lips and it thumped in approval.
"Say it again." His voice was engorged with lust. "Call me ‘sir’."
I parted my quivering lips and obeyed. "Sir."
He beckoned me with a finger and I scooted to the edge of the bed. The nearness of him was intoxicating, his arousal heady and close enough to grip. To suck.
"Look at me."
I pried my eyes from his erection and looked up into his penetrating eyes. The look he gave me stripped me to the bone, his eyes burning with want.
He gripped my hair with one hand, a firm tug sending pangs of discomfort dancing over my scalp. "Who's in charge?"
My lips trembled. "You are."
"Good girl."
I licked my lips again, preparing to taste him, wanting to taste him, but he released his hold on my dark strands. His hand connected with my shoulder and he pushed me back onto the mattress. Before I could reorient myself, he gripped my legs and vaulted my body toward him. My rear hung off the bed, but he held my thighs firmly, looming above me.
His eyes washed over me and he breathed in deep before exhaling. The feel of his breath on my naked body turned my peaks into solid rock. When he lowered himself to his knees and I realized what was to come, the nerves I’d forgotten about came rushing back. I'd only been given oral once, and the guy's insistence on me showering right before came screeching back to mind.
I tried to close my legs, but his hold was iron.
"Who is in charge, Leila?" he said darkly.
I tried to sit up and explain, but one look at his stern expression froze me halfway. "You, but-"
His fingers dug into my thigh and memories of humiliation dulled in favor of the slight pain. When I stopped fighting, he slackened and the fingers that ground into me suddenly stroked the tender flesh.
"Lie back down," he said, the edge smoother. Gentler.
I fell back into the bundle of covers, swallowing my reservations. He was trying to show me that he wanted me and I couldn't let my hang-ups go long enough to enjoy it.
"You're a stubborn one," he said softly. "But I want you to do nothing but listen to what I'm about to say." He paused. "You can respond."
I gulped. "Yes sir."
"When I am with you, there is no one else." I closed my eyes as his fingers moved dangerously close to the slit of me. "When I touch you, there is only the feel of your skin." When a moan escaped from my lips, he let out a deep chuckle. "There's only those beautiful little moans you make and finding out when to linger-" My moan went up a couple of octaves when his digit pushed just inside me. "And when to deny you." He pulled the finger out and went back to teasing my opening. "The only thing I ask is for the same courtesy." His other hand gripped my thigh and squeezed. "Well, that and your obedience. So when I say that I want you-" The warm, wet sensation flicked over the opening of my sex and I gripped the sheets. I nearly turned the cotton to shreds when he blew on the trail he made with his tongue. "I want you,” he finished, his voice filled with heat. “All of you, all of the time. Is that understood?"
The blowing made speech difficult, but I forced a "Yes sir" from my lips.
"Good."
His tongue went back to probing me, dipping in before darting back out, leaving me panting and completely at his mercy. There was nothing but the flicks and long strides as he took stock of me—and from the moans he released, I wasn’t found wanting.
Just when I got used to the rhythm of his mouth, he pulled back, his lips running along the inside of my thigh. His fingers took the place of his tongue, tracing up and down my erotic flesh.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice full of yearning. But when he gripped my thighs, prying them open wider, there was urgency. Like if he didn’t have me, all of me, it would be the end of him.
I fell into the pillows, drunk off of him, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it was the same for me. If I didn’t give myself completely and utterly to him, the world would stop turning.
He dove back between my legs, burying his mouth inside me and my flesh pulsed against his movements. He drug his tongue along one wall, then the other, until the trails met. He circled around my nucleus of pleasure, purposefully inching close to it before his tongue darted away. He turned it into a hardened knot, throbbing with anticipation. Begging to feel his kiss.
The
rules went out the window and I tried to turn the tables, vaulting my hips to get my point across, but he just moved his mouth away with a deep chuckle.
He ran his hands along my thighs. "Is there something you want?"
"You," I panted. He plunged his finger back inside me and mixed it with his thumb, running over and around my knot. The sensations were divine, but I'd gotten a taste of heaven. Heaven was his mouth on me. Heaven was his tongue. "I need your tongue there."
He ejected his finger and placed it on top of my nub. "Here?"
"Mmhm," I sighed. "I need it right there."
Two fingers circled it and I let out a gasp as they became pinchers, squeezing it. I wriggled, futilely trying to close my legs as he brought me to the edge of agony and then released. But just as soon as I took a breath, he reclaimed the knot, pressing and tugging before beginning the cycle all over again.
"Jacob..." I winced as he tightened around it again, the pressure bringing tears to my eyes. "Jacob, please."
His voice was nonchalant, like he wasn't using his fingers as some sort of torture device. "As soon as you stop fighting me and submit, the pain will cease."
It was easier said than done. My body seemed to have a mind of its own, needs that confounded me. The pinching was painful, but that discomfort swirled among a sea of other feelings. There was arousal, weaving in and out the pain, like strands of DNA. Every motion created sensations and desires that I never knew I had.
My nipples swelled as his fingertips dug into my thighs, juices flowing from me in a steady stream. The power exchange, this weird punishment, was turning me on.
Confused, exhilarated, I shut off the part of me that fought him and steeled my legs, forcing them to give into him. After a few moments of exhausting willpower, I gave in to the pain and kept my legs open.
As soon as my thighs stopped drawing together, he released his hold.
Time stood still as I felt his mouth inching close to it. His lips parted and he breathed—no, he blew. Just his mouth sending gentle air over the swollen knot.