JACKSON (The Billionaire Croft Brothers, Book One)

by Paige North

  She shuddered involuntarily.

  “You can’t fool me, Ivy,” he whispered. “This is for your benefit as much as it is mine.”

  “But I don’t even know what you’re going to do. I’m afraid that you’ll be angry if I fail you again—“

  “You need to tell me now. This is your last chance. Yes or no.”

  “What if I get scared again like I did yesterday?”

  “Trust me,” he said. His diamond eyes glittered.

  Ivy wasn’t sure if she could go through with this. But when she thought of his lips, his soft caress, her entire body became loose, ecstatic, wet, her every cell wanted it to happen.

  The pull was unstoppable and her attraction to him was so intense that it seemed to be short-circuiting every piece of equipment in her brain. She couldn’t think straight.

  “I’ll try again,” she whispered.

  “You’ll do better than try,” he growled, grabbing her by her hair, pulling on it just hard enough to yank her head back. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Won’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered, as his hand gripped her breast and tugged on her nipple, and just his fingers pinching her nipple was enough to flood her with excitement. She’d never in her life been touched like that.

  Her thighs spasmed as she felt juice flood the private place between her legs.

  “Oh, oh—Cullen,” she said, aching for him.

  “Your behavior last night was unacceptable,” he said through grit teeth. “And now you must have consequences.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, begging a little. She wished she could beg for everything, beg to be fucked. Beg to be taken by him in any way he wanted.

  He let go of her hair and moved away, watching her, his nostrils flaring and hunger in his eyes. “Take those clothes off,” he said. “They remind me of what you did last night. Your drinking, your dancing with other men. I wan those clothes out of my sight.”

  “You want me to take everything off?”

  “Remember your manners,” he scolded.

  “You want me to fully undress, Mister Sharpe?”

  He nodded. “Full undressed. Everything off. I want to see all of you, Ivy.”

  She took a deep breath, like when she was a teenager going up on the high diving board at the pool. She’d always been too scared to dive from the fifteen-foot diving platform.

  How many times had she climbed up there, stood at the edge and then backed away, unable to jump off?

  Too many to count.

  And now here she was, standing in front of Cullen Sharpe, and he was asking her to take what felt like a much bigger leap from a much higher platform. Closing her eyes, she felt at the precipice of a cliff, and below she couldn’t even see the water.

  But she knew that she wanted the CEO’s touch, and if she didn’t do this, he might never touch her again. And that wasn’t something she could deal with. Ivy wanted him too badly to turn back.

  So she started to undress in front of his hungry eyes.

  He stood there, just a couple of feet away, watching her with that cold, unblinking stare.

  Ivy began unbuttoning her blouse, and as each button popped loose, more and move of her bare torso was revealed. Of course, she was still wearing her white lacy bra, but her pink nipples were stiff and swollen, poking through the fabric and clearly visible to Cullen Sharpe.

  Her hands were trembling so badly that she wondered how she was even able to get the buttons on her shirt undone. But finally, she slid the shirt off her shoulders and it drifted to the floor and landed at her bare feet.

  “Keep going,” Cullen told her. “Now the skirt.”

  She bit her lower lip, as she unzipped her skirt and then pulled it down, kicking it off her feet and to the side.

  “Sorry, I’m not very graceful.”

  “Don’t speak unless spoken to,” he reprimanded her. “Continue.” He gestured to her bra.

  Ivy licked her lips and swallowed drily. She felt tears forming in her eyes.

  Stop being a baby, Ivy. You can do this. And besides, he likes it. Can’t you see he likes it?

  She looked at him again and saw that there was something in his expression that was excited, turned on. Because he was always so calm and cool, she had trouble telling what he was thinking.

  But as she looked at him more closely, she could see the spark of a fire behind those cold blue eyes. Cullen Sharpe was turned on—he was beyond turned on by her—he absolutely loved that she was undressing like this.

  Of course he’s turned on, silly. Why else does he want you to get naked in front of him?

  It made her smile just a little bit, but then she remembered that Cullen wasn’t the patient type. And so she unhooked her bra and released her breasts fully for his inspection.

  As her bra fell to the floor, Ivy watched Cullen’s face.

  Unlike the passive calm expression he’d had when she’d inadvertently spilled coffee on him yesterday, she definitely saw him react when her breasts were fully exposed.

  His pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed. Even his nostrils flared again. “Now your panties,” he said, his voice breathy with desire.

  Seeing how turned on he was made her excited and a little more confident.

  Still watching him, she grasped her panties, stretched them out and slid them slowly over her hips, teasing him a little by stripping them deliberately.

  It was exciting to know that she was having such a powerful effect on him, and Ivy was surprised to realize that the CEO truly had real feelings and emotions.

  But when she stood naked before him, hands at her sides, her shaved pussy wet and slick and aroused, nipples erect—Cullen seemed to regain his composure.

  His jaw twitched. “Turn around,” he commanded.

  “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, spinning to face the bed.

  “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

  She hesitated for a long moment.

  “Ivy,” Cullen said, his voice stern and becoming edgy. “When I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed immediately. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Mister Sharpe.” Her lips tingled as she spoke.

  Her pussy was wet and aching, and her stomach was filled with churning butterflies.

  How could she be so frightened and so turned on all at once? What would he do next? What more would he ask of her? Where would it all end?

  “Spread your legs and grab your fucking ankles before I become truly impatient,” he continued.

  As she did what she was told, she could hear his footsteps on the hardwood floor, coming closer and closer behind her. She grabbed her own ankles, which meant that her pussy and ass were now completely exposed to his view.

  Cullen was seeing her as no one had ever seen her before.

  Her pussy was bare, dripping with juice, her ass turned up to him, vulnerable.

  Cullen Sharpe could do anything he wanted to her now.

  “You were very bad last night,” he breathed, his voice husky with want and desire.

  “I was, Sir,” she replied. Her heart pounded in her ribcage and her legs trembled.

  “Why did you go to that seedy bar and exploit yourself?” he asked.

  “I don’t…I don’t know, Sir.”

  He smacked her ass—not extremely hard. But it wasn’t a playful slap, either. It stung a little, and she gave a slight cry in response.

  “Don’t ever tell me you don’t know when I ask you a question,” he said. “If I ask you, then I already know you have an answer.”

  “I’m sorry, Mister Sharpe.”

  He slapped her ass harder. “Sorry stopped cutting it some time ago, Ivy.” He slapped her buttocks yet again, his palm rubbing her butt for a moment before withdrawing.

  Her wet pussy mound throbbed, dripping, wanting and needing his attentions. His lithe fingers were so close yet so far away. Even his hands on her ass felt electric—making every pore ache with need and want.

  She’d never felt this
sensation, being so turned on, being so ready for a man.

  Please fuck me, she thought. Please put your fingers in my wet pussy, Cullen.

  “Now tell me why you went carousing last night,” he said.

  “Because I wanted to try and forget about you,” she admitted. “Sir,” she added, catching her lapse just in the nick of time.

  There was a long silence after she said that. “You should have told me your plans,” he said in a low voice. “You should always alert me when you’re getting tempted to do something reckless and self-destructive. I’ll never let you endanger yourself,” he told her. “But you didn’t think about the consequences of your actions and you ended up drunk, with men trying to take advantage of you. What would’ve happened to you had I not been there to save you?”

  “It would’ve been a problem Mister Sharpe,” she told him. “I never should have drank and danced in front of those men, Sir.”

  He spanked her bare ass again and then yet another time for good measure. She felt her buttocks quivering afterwards, and the flood of heat from his precise blows enveloped her slit with tingling warmth.

  She moaned as she was flooded by a wave of adrenaline and sexual gratification.

  “If you knew it was wrong, then you shouldn’t have done it. But you wanted to upset me, didn’t you?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she said.

  And it was true that part of her had wanted him to be jealous when she’d let that douchebag guy grind on her backside at the bar. But it was also true that she wanted to tell him how bad and wrong she’d been because she liked the way it felt when Cullen Sharpe spanked her bottom.

  Did he know she was enjoying this?

  He must. He’s not a fool.

  As if on cue, his palm crashed into her bare buttocks, sending her forward, making her grunt.

  He slapped her again. Now he was alternating his spanking from one sensitive, sore ass cheek to the other, and then back again.

  His spanking had become rhythmic and profoundly sexual, as she felt his desire growing, and his excitement.

  He’d stopped talking. His breathing was audible in the near silence and stillness of the room.

  The only sounds were the sounds of flesh on quivering flesh, of his palm as it struck her increasingly sore and excited butt, and the little grunts and groans that escaped Ivy’s mouth and throat as each strike excited her more and more.

  Her pussy was throbbing wet. She felt as though she might even come from what he was doing to her.

  “You disappointed me greatly,” he whispered, grabbing her fleshy hips with his hands, roughly massaging the skin as he drove his hips into her.

  She moaned, feeling his hard bulge against her bare, slickly glazed cunt.

  “I was very bad, Sir,” she responded.

  “You have no idea,” he told her. “You think this is a game?”

  “No, Mister Sharpe.”

  “Yes, you do.” He spanked her again and again and again.

  She cried out loudly, partly in pain, partly in ecstasy. She didn’t even know which was which anymore. Her body was bathed in glowing sweat. She was totally bare and naked and this powerful man was doing anything he wanted to her.

  “Cullen,” she whispered, just barely mouthing the word.

  “Would you still think it was a game if I fucked you like the bad girl you are?” he asked, slapping her flesh yet again. And then his hand spread out, his fingers gripping her skin, sliding down towards her upturned pussy, the mound trembling, her slit open, juicy.

  His middle finger slowly slid against her folds, and she cried out in desperation. He slowly, slowly inserted his finger inside her. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight,” he said, “and you think I’d ever let another man have it?”

  “No, Sir,” she moaned. “I’m, I’m going to—“

  “Don’t you dare come right now,” he told her, as he began fucking her pussy with his one finger. “Look at how wet you are,” he said.

  She felt her belly rippling with suppressed pleasure. She’d never had a man’s fingers inside her, never had to battle against her own climax. How could she stop this unstoppable force?

  And in the end, she stopped it by just holding her breath, and exerting sheer willpower over her body. As she trembled and groaned while Cullen’s finger mercilessly fucked her dripping wet slit, Ivy closed her eyes tightly and held her breath. Sweat dripped down her forehead, down her legs.

  He was slowly fucking her with his long finger, and with each full entry, he would clasp her buttocks with his entire palm. By the end, he was finger-fucking her and slapping her with his palm at the same time.

  She bit her lip so hard that she tasted copper and metal on her tongue.

  “You can let go of your ankles now,” Cullen said, withdrawing his hand from her.

  She stood up, feeling the sore aching in her thighs and the raw redness of her butt cheeks. And then she faced him, as he spun her slowly with his hand on her hip.

  Now they were looking directly at one another, face to face.

  “You’ve got me worked up, Ivy,” he said, and his nostrils flared as those icy eyes melted her with the heat he was somehow giving off.

  “I’m sorry to have gotten you so worked up, Mister Sharpe.”

  “No, I don’t think you are.” He grabbed her tightly around the waist and brought his lips roughly against hers. His tongue entered her willing mouth, and she moaned as he explored her, their breaths intermingling.

  He tasted like mint and sex and lust.

  Suddenly, he threw her backwards and she landed on the bed, spread eagle. He stood over her, and his eyes had taken on a new quality.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Ivy,” he growled. “I’m going to push my cock into your tight, wet pussy and fuck you until you come for me. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she gasped. Her back arched, and she allowed him to see all of her as she spread her legs wide for him.

  He’d gotten her sufficiently ready.

  She was no longer terrified at the prospect of having sex for the first time, although she was still nervous about how she might perform with someone as experienced as this man.

  But she was ready to take the leap. In fact, she couldn’t imagine resisting anything that Cullen Sharpe wanted from her right now.

  Cullen swiftly removed his own shirt and, for the first time, she saw his beautifully perfect body.

  Every chiseled muscle was like something that a sculptor would’ve rendered—the built CEO didn’t have an ounce of flab or fat anywhere on his ripped torso. And he clearly knew it, as he stood there and allowed Ivy to examine him with her wide eyes.

  He licked his pink lips and slowly unzipped his pants. He revealed black silk boxers and then slid those down his hips and stepped out of his pants.

  Now Cullen was nude, and his thick thighs and muscular calves were in perfect proportion with the rest of him.

  But nothing could’ve prepared her for the way his cock looked. It was big, thick, swollen with his need for her. It pointed upward, curving toward the ceiling proudly.

  Ivy writhed on the bed, feeling drunk on his attention—she was in a dream. She was in an alternate universe. She was ready to be ravished and to give herself completely to him.

  He lowered himself on top of her, his muscular bicep flexing as he held himself above her, his hand pressing into the mattress like he was doing one-armed pushups.

  With his other hand, Cullen guided the enormous head of his cock to her juicy mound. He began grinding the head up and down her slit, sending her legs into spasms of enthusiasm.

  “You’re so damn tight,” he muttered, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.

  She couldn’t wait for him to slide in. Even if it hurt, she didn’t care.

  “Fuck me, please,” she begged.

  He continued sliding the head of his dick over her mound, seeming to delight in the sweet torture of it all.

  “Please,” she begged again, g
ripping his neck with her hands. Her hands slid to his shoulders, loving the feel of his skin and his body.

  He was all heat and masculinity and sex.

  “You’re just so tight,” he groaned. “I want to fit inside you. Open up and let me in.”

  She spread her legs.

  Cullen began pushing in and she knew that soon he would break that barrier, and he’d fuck her in earnest. Already she was getting close to coming, just from anticipation.

  His eyes suddenly locked on hers and there was a connection so strong, so intense that Ivy had to tell him everything.

  “I’m a virgin,” she whispered, her hand stroking his chest.

  Cullen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly and then he pulled away. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not,” she said, feeling like she’d just made a huge mistake.

  Why did I have to open my big mouth and ruin the moment?

  “You’re a virgin,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Is that bad?”

  He sat down heavily on the corner of the bed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes far away now. “A virgin.” He shook his head as if annoyed with himself. “I should’ve known.”

  “But it’s okay,” she told him, sitting up to her elbows. “I want you. I’m ready to do this, Cullen.”

  He couldn’t even look at her. “I knew you were inexperienced, but I had no idea it went that far. I just assumed…”

  “Why does it matter?” she asked, hearing the plaintive, begging sound in her own voice and hating it.

  “It matters,” was all he said. He got off the bed, grabbed his clothes from the floor, his buttocks tightening as he bent over and scooped them into his arms.

  “Cullen, please don’t do this—“

  He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. He turned away, turned his back on her. “You have to go now.”

  “Cullen!” she cried, pounding her fists into the mattress as he walked away from her.

  He opened the door to the bedroom and walked out without looking back.

  Ivy sat there, watching him go, knowing that in the space of just a few seconds—everything had gone horribly wrong between them.