by Paige North
His palm crashed into her right buttock. She grit her teeth together as her face pushed against the couch cushion.
“That was one,” Cullen announced.
“Yes, Sir.”
SLAP.
She withheld a moan, as this time her left buttock burned from the stinging strike.
“That was two.”
“Yes, Sir. I deserved that, Sir.”
She could hear his labored breathing, and Ivy sensed that he was getting excited by her vocal submission.
His palm crashed into her buttocks again, and this time his hand lingered, the tips of his fingers digging into her flesh.
“That was three, Ivy.”
“Yes, Sir. I needed to be reminded.”
He spanked her again. “Four.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
The last one was the most painful yet, and it drove her face into the cushions, but somehow it was also the most pleasurable, as she felt a gush of warmth between her legs.
“FIVE,” he said.
“Thank you so much for correcting me, Sir, and not giving up on me.”
There was a long pause. She kept her bare, stinging ass up in the air for him. Her nipples were tender and stiff.
Now his fingers were sliding into her folds again, only this time they were more gentle. She gushed onto him, as the stimulation of his fingers on her pussy was such a turn on, she could hardly contain herself. “That feels so good, Sir.”
“I need to fuck you,” he told her. “I simply must have you completely.”
“I want you to, Sir.”
“Stay in that position,” he told her.
“Yes, Sir.”
She heard him unbuckling his pants and then the unmistakable sounds of his pants dropping to the floor.
“Don’t look at me,” he told her. Keep your head straight, eyes on the couch.”
She felt the head of his engorged cock on her folds, pushing from behind. His hands grabbed her hips, his fingers squeezing her soft skin as he pushed harder.
There was resistance and then she broke open for him, and felt the most exquisite sweet giving way inside her as he pushed into her.
He’s fucking me. Cullen Sharpe is actually fucking me right now.
It felt beyond amazing, even with the slight pressure, the hint of pain.
It was dirty. It was wrong. It was crazy and reckless and maybe the dumbest thing she’d ever done.
But at the same time, Ivy had never felt so wanted, so taken, so possessed in all the right ways.
His shaft pressed into her tight space, and she was dripping, as Cullen worked his way into her from behind. She felt his hips pushing up close to her backside and she tried to push herself into him.
“I’m very deep in you now,” Cullen told her. “You’re very, very wet. I’ve never felt something so damn tight, so damn good.” His thighs seemed to tremble as he pressed deeper.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I’m…I’m going to come, I think.”
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Come only when I tell you.”
He withdrew slowly and then pushed in yet again. His motion was becoming more fluid.
Ivy smiled to herself as she felt him, felt his sweetness, and he was so good…so right inside her.
She was a bundle of nerves that had been stimulated past the point of no return.
She was going to climax, and it was just a question of how long she could hold out.
Do I need to do anything else to make it good for him? She wondered. How do I know if I’m doing it right?
He seemed excited, but she wanted to be sure that he enjoyed having sex with her as much as she was enjoying it.
His cock slid into her and then slowly he would slide out, then press in once again. Each time, she seemed to get even more excited. He began pumping his hips, and now his lower belly was slapping against her buttocks as he fucked her from behind.
He took his hands off her hips and pressed them on her lower back.
He was fucking her, fucking her so good. She felt tears in her eyes again, but now they were tears of pure ecstasy as she bit her lower lip.
“I’m coming, I can’t help it…” she moaned. And then it came, a wave of passion so big that she couldn’t help but scream. She was opening her mouth and moaning so loudly, completely out of control.
Cullen seemed surprised by her passion, but she felt him respond, and then he was driving deeper inside her as she came, and he was groaning, as if he also was overcome with emotion.
She felt him crashing into her, the wetness between them so unbelievably juicy and exciting and hot. “Your pussy is so tight,” he gasped, and then she could tell he was releasing himself inside her.
He pounded into her and she cried out again and again.
When it was done, he withdrew for good and she sat up on the couch, red faced, confused, pulling up her panties and pants as Cullen also pulled on his pants.
He looked relatively frazzled; his hair was messy, his face bathed in sweat.
“Was…was that…” she wasn’t sure what to say. She was curious to know if it had been what he’d wanted.
Cullen looked confused. “I don’t know what that was,” he said, seeming baffled in a way that she found endearing, but also rather frightening.
It was so unlike him to be taken aback, even for a moment.
“Do you need anything?” he asked her. “Water, perhaps?”
She smiled. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said, nodding as he pulled his belt tight and then turned and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, as walked away.
Ivy sat there, thinking about the mind-blowing sex she’d just had.
God, he’s hot. He was an animal, wasn’t he?
And I think he liked it too.
But didn’t he—didn’t he finish inside me….
She didn’t allow herself to think too deeply about how far they’d truly gone. It was confusing if you thought too much about it.
Because Ivy was fairly certain that Cullen himself—Mr. Control—hadn’t intended things to happen quite that way.
By the time he returned, Ivy was standing up and feeling a bit more put together. Still, she was confused and a bit nervous now.
Cullen smiled at her, as if to reassure her. But his eyes had once more closed off from her. His cold, reserved expression had returned and his formality was back along with it. “Shall I take you home now?” he said.
“I…I can catch a cab.”
“Nonsense,” Cullen said, shaking his head. “I won’t hear of it.”
“Okay,” she sighed, already accepting that things were changing again for the worse.
Cullen was nothing if not unpredictably predictable.
They left the house and started for his car. Ivy’s mind was spinning with fears, hopes, memories, wondering how to handle the car ride home.
An older woman carrying shopping bags nearly fell right in front of them, and one of her bags ripped open, sending fruit spilling to the sidewalk. “Oh, dammit,” the gruff older woman said.
Cullen knelt down instantly, grabbing fruit in his hands, trying to assist the old lady.
The older woman stared at him from her thick glasses. “Are you Cullen Sharpe?” she asked, seemingly in awe of him.
Cullen straightened, still holding some bananas in one hand. “Yes, I am,” he said, looking confused now. “Do we know each other?”
The woman reached into a bag and handed him a large envelope. “Mister Sharpe, you’ve been served,” she said, and then turned around, leaving her fruit behind and walking to a black sedan parked not far away.
The woman got inside and the car sped off.
Cullen dropped the bananas and opened the envelope, revealing a set of documents, which he slid partially out to read.
“Who was that?” Ivy asked him.
But Cullen wasn’t answering her. His eyes scanned the documents and his mouth tightened into a thin lin
e, his lips turning almost white.
His normally calm eyes had taken on a devastated vacant stare, as if he’d been struck so hard that he’d forgotten where he was.
“Cullen,” she said again.
“It’s nothing,” he whispered, tucking the documents back into the folder and sealing it closed. “Nothing.”
But she knew he was lying. Something terrible was happening to Cullen Sharpe, something that even he couldn’t control.
THE END OF BOOK 3
Lies (The Billionaire’s Rules, Book 4)
Cullen Sharpe had a poker face like no one Ivy had ever met in her entire life. But even he wasn’t able to hide the fact that the court documents in that envelope had deeply shaken him.
After putting the documents back in the envelope, he re-sealed it with one quick motion, and then continued walking toward his car as if nothing had happened.
But even the way he was walking seemed different now—as if he’d been physically wounded and was trying to pretend otherwise.
Cullen opened the passenger door for Ivy and gestured for her to get inside.
She stepped into the car, looking at him as she slid into the plush seat, trying to get a read on just how bad the damage was. Cullen’s eyes were icier than she’d ever seen them, as if the frozen tundra that lived inside him was experiencing a blizzard of epic proportions.
The lack of emotion on his face was almost frightening, as if he’d retreated so far away as if to be completely unreachable.
He closed her door and then walked to the driver’s side. Getting into the car, he tossed the envelope into the backseat. Then he started the engine and pulled out into the street.
The car was silent but for the hum of the engine and the sounds of the city street outside.
Ivy was struggling with what to make of it all.
I’m not a virgin anymore. Shouldn’t I feel relieved or something?
And the sex was incredible. That must count for something, right?
She shook her head, feeling the familiar build of frustration as Cullen’s demeanor and mood swings continued to elude her understanding.
Cullen, for his part, just drove, lost in his own thoughts, not appearing to care much about what Ivy felt or thought.
She pursed her lips, starting to feel the frustration turning into anger. After some more time had gone by, she sighed loudly.
Cullen glanced at her. “Something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, of course not. How could anything ever be wrong?”
“If you have something you want to say, just say it,” Cullen told her. “Unless you’d prefer to hide behind sarcasm.”
She guffawed loudly. “That’s classic, coming from you.”
“Coming from me?” he asked, his tone edgy.
“Yeah,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
“Please do enlighten me, Ivy.”
“Well, you hide behind that cool, hard exterior—but you have the nerve to accuse me of hiding behind my sarcasm.”
He sighed with impatience. “What you refer to as my cool exterior is simply what I am. It’s not an act.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I can already see this is going nowhere.”
Cullen’s hands gripped the wheel more tightly. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want you to be normal,” she cried. “I want us to be normal.”
“This isn’t normal?”
She laughed wildly. “No, Cullen. No, this is absolutely not normal.” She laughed again in disbelief that such a smart man could be so clueless.
Cullen was silent for a moment. “What would be normal under the circumstances?” he said.
“We just had sex,” she told him.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “If we were being normal, maybe there would’ve been some cuddling afterwards. Some acknowledgment of what just happened between us.”
“How would you know what’s normal after sex?” Cullen asked.
She felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment. “Just because I’m a virgin—was a virgin—doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I’ve read books, magazines, seen TV and movies.”
Cullen chuckled. “If you expect me to be like one of those guys from the Hollywood romantic comedies—that’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m not asking for the world. I’m just asking for something,” she said. “Just a little human kindness.”
He looked at her for a moment before turning back to the road ahead. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s compromise. How about breakfast tomorrow morning before work?”
She stared at him. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? Some consolation prize,” she continued. “Coffee and bagels with my boss. That’s really sweet, Cullen, but no thanks.”
“Lunch, then.”
“No,” she said, feeling more and more aggravated. “I don’t want to have some stiff, awkward lunch together so you can pretend you did the right thing.”
“You’re emotional,” he said.
She glared at him. “I’m human.”
He didn’t respond, but she saw his jaw twitch as he stared ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
After some time, she tried again.
“What was in that envelope?” she asked him.
“It’s just a court date over some dispute…” he waved his hand like it was something silly, like small claims court.
“What kind of dispute?”
“Not even worth discussing,” he told her. But his voice had taken on a steely edge once more.
“So what is worth discussing, Cullen?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap, like a teacher with a particularly stubborn student.
“Perhaps nothing,” he said, his lips curling into a grin. “Wouldn’t that be something,” he said, amused now.
“What about that woman I heard you talking with early this morning? In your house, near the crack of dawn? Is that worth discussing or not?”
Cullen’s shoulders tensed. “That was someone…someone who’s very confused about who I am and what I’m capable of.”
“Sounds familiar,” Ivy muttered, looking away from him and out the window now.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Ivy said. “It’s obvious you’re not going to tell me a damn thing, so there’s really no point in continuing.”
They pulled up in front of her apartment building. She looked at him.
“I’m tired,” Cullen said, and his eyes were weary. “Tomorrow will be better. Lunch,” he continued.
“How did you know where I live?”
He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
She almost continued to press him, but then she realized it wasn’t worth it. Cullen was a man who refused to give an inch, or maybe he truly was just incapable of opening up to anyone else.
“Must be nice to be so lucky,” she told him, as she opened her car door and started to get out.
“Ivy,” he began.
She looked back. “Yes?” Even now, she could feel herself hoping for something from him—anything she could cling to as evidence that he wasn’t just some calculating robot without emotions.
He opened his mouth, and for a moment, she was sure he was going to tell her something real. Something important.
Instead, he smiled faintly. “Try and get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She shook her head sadly and shut the car door on him, turned and walked to her building without looking back.
As she inserted her key into the door, she could hear the distinctive sound of Cullen’s sports car idling, and she knew he was waiting to make sure she got safely inside.
That should matter, right? He cares about me. He’s watching over me.
But she knew it wasn’t enough—it wasn’t enough for her, even if Cullen was trying his very best. His best wasn’t very good, and she couldn’t deal with his
ups and downs, the way he acted like he might open up but then shut down again every time.
She trudged up the flight of stairs and let herself into her apartment.
She threw her keys onto the coffee table and then turned on the TV, wanting to just have some dumb show on to distract her from her thoughts. She turned on a few lights and then passed by her window.
Cullen’s sports car was still down there.
Still watching.
That night she had a vivid dream.
Cullen was fucking her in her own bed. He was on top of her, and his lips were on hers, and she moaned into his mouth, as his cock penetrated her and she arched into him.
She wanted him so deep.
His body was warm and hard and sensual, and his hips swiveled like magic, fucking her so perfectly.
Finally, she said, “Oh, Cullen, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He stared into her eyes. “Be careful,” he told her. “My love will destroy who you are and turn you into something completely new.”
And then his cock went even deeper and she felt herself somehow changing, and she was coming, but she was also afraid.
And then she looked up and her hands were tied tightly above her head and the rope stretched into darkness—the darkness was so inky black that she just knew it went on forever.
As she looked into it, she climaxed intensely, and then she woke up, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat.
“Oh, fuck,” she said, lying back down again, catching her breath. “I’m in trouble.”
It took her a long time to get back to sleep, but finally she did, and then she woke up feeling like the previous day had been just her imagination. She got out of bed, took a bath, shaved her legs, took plenty of time to put on her makeup and pick out a nice outfit.
Not for Cullen—just for me, she told herself.
She wore a longer skirt, heels, and a blouse that showed a bit of cleavage. It felt good to look good—it wasn’t anything to do with getting the CEO’s attention.
Ivy had already made up her mind that she wasn’t going to breakfast, lunch or even dinner with the enigmatic man at the center of her dreams/nightmares.
As she ate some toast with jelly and had a cup of coffee, she thought about the previous day and the fact that she was no longer a virgin. The sex had been incredible. She knew that much, despite her inexperience. It was difficult to imagine being more turned on than that—maybe impossible.