The Billionaire's Need: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire's Deal Series Book 3)

by Kaswell, Crystal

  I groan into his mouth, digging my hands into the leather seats.

  He rubs me over the lingerie. It's smoother and rougher at once. I relax into his touch, soaking in the pleasure building between my legs.

  Nick breaks the kiss to bring his lips to my neck. He bites me as he slips his hand under my panties. His fingers skim my clit. It's enough to make me gasp.

  He bites me harder.

  Something clicks into place. He wants me to scream. Maybe it was killing him too, muffling himself in the office.

  When he rubs me, I groan. His touch gets harder. Then it's perfect.

  "Nick." I push the words out, arching my back to rub my body against his.

  He brings his lips to my ear. "Louder."

  He drags his fingers over me with slow circles. They get smaller and faster, until he's rubbing the spot that needs him the most.

  "Nick," I groan as loudly as I can.

  He sinks his teeth into my earlobe. The pain sends a buzz through my body. Everything in me is turned on, keyed up, ready to unravel.

  I lose track of everything except his lips and hands. He's undoing me in some way I don't understand, but none of that matters. This moment, right now, is the only thing that matters.

  "Nick," I groan as an orgasm rises up inside me. The pressure inside me gets tighter and tighter. Then it's so tight I can't take it anymore.

  "Nick." I scream his name again and again.

  He bites my neck. That burst of pain sends me over the edge. One last squeeze and I unravel. Pleasure spills through me as I come. It's so intense I forget to breathe.

  He drags his hand up my torso, stopping to tease my nipples. His eyes meet mine, an intense look on his face.

  He presses his lips to mine and kisses me like we'll never get to kiss again.

  ***

  This elevator is the slowest elevator in the history of elevators everywhere. Nick's hand is pressed firmly into my lower back. His body is inches from mine. But we're still in this elevator when we should be tangled up in his bed.

  Finally, we get to the penthouse. Nick looks to me, his expression smug and patient at once.

  "In a rush?" he asks.

  I glare at him.

  He smiles. It lights up his face. "We should have lunch. You must be hungry."

  "After." I step into the apartment and hang my purse and coat on the rack.

  "After what?"

  I stare into Nick's eyes, copying his confident posture and tone. "After you fuck me."

  His expression shifts. In control. "Go to my room, strip naked, and sit on the bed."

  "But—"

  "Now. I'll be there in three minutes. If you're wearing anything, I'm not fucking you."

  The sternness in his voice sends a rush of pleasure through me. It's like he needs this, like he can't bear anything but me following his commands.

  I go straight to the bedroom and close the door behind me. There must be two and a half minutes left. It should be plenty of time to undress. It's harder with all the anticipation coursing through me. I pull off my shirt, kick off my shoes. It's messy. Too bad.

  Then it's socks. And my jeans. The bra and panties. I plant on the bed, my hands in my lap like I'm waiting for my teacher to arrive. It's not the sexiest position. I want to be ready for him, on display for him, something to drive him as crazy as he drives me.

  I lie back on the bed, my hands on my thighs, my eyelids press together. My fingers slide up my thighs, my body already craving a release. But I know my hands won't be good enough. The only thing that can possibly satisfy me is Nick.

  A moment later, the door opens. I keep my eyes closed but I can hear his footsteps. His sigh of pleasure.

  "You want to touch yourself, baby?" he asks.

  The term of endearment is new. It does something to me. Makes me warm and hot at once.

  "Yes," I breathe. "But I want you more."

  "Hands over your head.

  I do as I'm told.

  Nick sets something on the bedside table. A drink from the sound of it. He sits next to me and restrains my wrists. I blink open my eyes to look at him.

  There's desire in his eyes. It only makes me want him more.

  He's holding a blindfold. He pulls it over my eyes and around the back of my head. Everything goes dark. I can still hear him. Still feel the warmth from his body.

  There's the sound of ice clinking in a glass. The weight on the bed shifts as Nick sits next to me. The soft fabric of his t-shirt presses against my skin.

  Something hits the space between my breasts. Something cold and wet.

  His hand moves closer and something cold and slick makes contact with my skin.

  An ice cube.

  It's freezing.

  A shiver runs through me. I arch my back, squeezing my toes to contain it.

  Nick drags the ice down my stomach. Slowly, it melts, leaving a trail of cool water on my skin.

  He reaches for something— another ice cube, from his glass. This time, he starts at my lips. There's the faint taste of whiskey and the overwhelming sensation of cold. He drags the ice down my neck and to my breasts. It's an inch from my nipple.

  I pant, uncertain if I can take it but determined to try. It gets closer. Closer.

  He pulls away, towards my other breast. Again, he slides the ice closer and closer.

  There.

  The ice makes contact with my nipple.

  "Fuck," I groan. It's like jumping into the ocean two months too early.

  The shock fades to a dull ache. The pain commands me. I have to feel it. I have to surrender to it.

  Nick draws circles over me with the ice. I pant and shake. It hurts enough to make me scream.

  Fuck it. I do scream.

  "Nick. I..."

  "You want me to stop, say the word." He takes the almost all the way melted ice and presses it between my lips. "Do you want me to stop, baby?"

  I swallow the ice cube. "No."

  "You want more?"

  "Yes."

  His movements get aggressive. He starts at my lip and drags the ice down my neck and collarbones. Straight to my nipple. He presses hard. He presses soft. I grit my teeth to push through, but it's not working. It hurts too much.

  "Yellow," I breathe.

  He pulls the ice cube away for a moment then it's back on my stomach. I relax, settling into his movements as the cold slides over my body.

  This time, he pops the half-melted ice cube in his mouth. He leans closer, bringing the full weight of his body onto mine.

  His lips connect with mine. They're cold, but the heat of mine warms them. I open my mouth to make way for his tongue and he passes the ice cube from his mouth to mine.

  I pass it back.

  When there's nothing left but us, Nick pulls away. He takes another ice cube and trails it down my neck, around my chest, closer and closer. It brushes against my nipples for a moment then it's gone.

  His lips close over my nipple, warming the coldness. He does it again. Cold then warm then cold again. The back and forth ramps up the tension building inside me. I lose track of everything except the feeling in my body.

  I press my wrists against the restraints, arching my body to press it against his. Nick moves lower. Down my stomach. Below my belly button.

  No teasing, he presses his mouth against my clit. There's a dull sense of coldness. Like jumping into the freezing ocean only way more intense. I part my legs to give him room. He sucks on my outer lips. It's a dizzying mix of chill and heat.

  Then it's warm. No more ice. Only Nick. He licks me up and down with soft, slow strokes. Patient. Like he has all the time in the world. His hands go to my thighs. He pries them apart, presses my knees against the bed and holds them there.

  I can't move. I'm at his mercy. I groan as pleasure pools between my legs. Any lingering cold fades away. I'm warm. I'm scorching.

  He sucks on my clit until I'm screaming.

  "Nick," I groan. I arch my back. My hips shift an in
ch.

  His nails sink into the delicate flesh of my thigh. He sucks harder. Faster.

  It sends me straight to the edge. I tumble into free fall, pleasure spilling through my body as I come. I scream. I shake. I release everything.

  Nick kisses his way back to my mouth. He straddles me, his thighs outside my hips, his cock straining against me. Only his jeans are in the way. I rock my hips but he's too heavy. I can't even grind against him.

  I can't see him undress, but I hear his clothes coming off. The soft thud of his shirt hitting the ground. The unzipping of his jeans. The elastic tug of his boxers.

  I spread my knees as wide as they'll go. No more waiting. I need to feel him inside me.

  He reaches for my wrists and undoes the bindings. I reach for him immediately.

  My fingers skim his skin. There's muscle then the jut of bone. His hips.

  With my other hand, I reach for the blindfold. "Can I?"

  He reaches down and undoes my blindfold.

  My eyes go straight to his erection. I gawk. I'm pretty sure I'm drooling.

  "Come here." He lies on his back and reaches for my hands.

  Oh hell yes. I crawl next to Nick. He's practically offering himself to me. I'm not about to miss this opportunity.

  He arranges me, so my hands are at his hips, my knees are outside his. He doesn't use words. He brings his hands to the back of my head and guides me into place.

  I wrap my lips around him, taking him as deep as I can. With my hands flat in front of me, I only have so much leverage. I let him guide me.

  He tastes good.

  He groans. His face fills with pleasure. I'm greedy to get him off, but he's in control.

  His grip tightens in my hair. "On your back."

  I do as I'm told.

  Nick shifts off the bed. He finds the wedge he used the first time we were here. He sets it up with the tall side facing me then presses me onto it, stomach first. I'm lying at a reverse incline, my head at the bed, my ass lifted enough that I'm on display to him.

  His tip strains against me. He teases again and again. It sends a shudder down my spine.

  Again.

  Until I'm panting.

  Until I'm screaming.

  And.

  "Please," I groan.

  His hands go to my hips. They sink into my skin as he enters me.

  I sigh with relief.

  I can't do anything but feel Nick. I surrender to it, groaning as he thrusts into me. His movements start patient and get faster, harder, deeper. It's intense, but it doesn't hurt. It only feels good.

  An orgasm rises up inside me. This one is fast. It's almost there. I do nothing to extend it. Instead, I groan into it, squeezing him as tightly as I can, screaming his name as loudly as I can.

  It only takes a few moments for me to unravel. My legs threaten to go slack. I won't allow myself to melt until I feel his release. I focus on the sounds of our bodies coming together, of sighs and groans escaping his lips. I focus on the feeling of him inside me, of his fingers digging into my skin.

  All of it builds to a crescendo. Then he's there, going harder and faster, groaning and clawing at my hips as he comes.

  When he's finished, Nick untangles our bodies. He pulls me into his lap and runs his hands through my hair.

  A wave of affection rises up in my stomach. But I can't say it yet. It's too scary, too final.

  Soon.

  I'll say it soon.

  ***

  I spend the weekend with Nick. He shows me his favorite police procedural. I teach him a dozen yoga poses. His balance is good, but he needs to work on his flexibility. I'm sure I can find a way to help him stretch.

  He cooks. I make coffee. We have sex half a dozen times. By Sunday night, I'm so sore it's hard to move. I go home so I'll get enough rest to survive Monday.

  My long ignored phone beeps a dozen new alerts. Mostly irrelevant emails, but there's a missed call and a text message from a number I don't recognize. It starts with an address, then—

  Meet me Friday at 10PM. I have an offer for you. One that can leave Nick with his company intact.

  If you mention this to Nick, I'll sell immediately.

  - Shepard Marlowe

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A chill sinks all the way to my bones. Breathing is difficult. Impossible even.

  Meet me Friday at 10PM. I have an offer for you. One that can leave Nick with his company intact.

  If you mention this to Nick, I'll sell immediately.

  This is either an olive branch or a hand grenade.

  I don't know much about Shepard, besides what Nick has told me. He held his ground against Nick. Yeah, he had Nick's guilt on his side, but that takes considerable strength.

  He's the kind of guy who gets what he wants, whatever it takes.

  I should delete this message. Nick cares about me. Meeting with Shepard behind his back could ruin things, convince him I'm not worth trusting.

  But the sale is weighing on him. If I can help him...

  I can't turn down the opportunity.

  I save the address. Just in case.

  ***

  Monday morning, my Google alert greets me with a news article that the sale is imminent. Odyssey Executives Finalizing Details on Sale of Virtual Assistant—Is This The Next Step in AI?

  The article goes on to speculate about the possibilities of the Haley project. There's a quote from an executive at OmniTech that implies they're only buying the company to get their hands on the intellectual property.

  Which means Nick will lose the project that means everything to him.

  My yoga routine does nothing to clear my head. Neither does my warm shower. I brace myself for the worst on my way to work, but it's more painful than I imagined.

  From a glance, everything is the same. Nick is standing at his desk, handsome and imposing in his sleek black suit. There are two cups of coffee, two sesame bagels.

  His eyes are on the computer but he's not here. He's off somewhere else, stuck in his head.

  "Good morning." There's no enthusiasm in his voice.

  "Good morning." I focus all my attention on fixing my coffee.

  But he's no more here when we get to work. I try not to let it bother me.

  The two hours go slowly. When we're done, Nick nods a curt goodbye. I have to do something to bring him back.

  I stare into his eyes. "I was so sore this morning I could barely make it through my yoga."

  Nothing. Not even a hint of a smile.

  I keep going. "Did you—"

  "Not now, Lizzy. I'm not in the mood."

  "Okay. Maybe we can talk later. That theater that did The Matrix is doing the second one, The Matrix Reloaded, on Wednesday. We could go."

  "I'll be busy all week."

  "Oh. We could always watch the DVD at your place."

  His eyes meet mine. It's like he's staring through me.

  Then his eyes go back to his computer. "We'll talk later."

  "Yeah, sure."

  ***

  It's hard to concentrate. All morning, I keep one eye on Nick's office. I need some sign he's okay.

  I leave for lunch. My spicy Chinese food is excellent comfort but it does nothing to clear my head. I take a long walk. It's a nice day. Blue sky. Crisp spring air.

  But it feels ugly. The whole world is ugly when Nick is upset.

  The elevator is slow. At least I'm riding alone. I check my hair and makeup in the reflective walls. All good.

  Finally, the doors ding open. I head straight for my desk, but something stops me.

  Nick is at David's work station, angry look plastered on his face. "If you don't want to work, you shouldn't be here."

  "But, sir—"

  "I don't pay you to gossip. Any of you. I don't care what Gawker says about the sale. Until it's final, you're an Odyssey employee. Get back to work or hand in your resignation."

  "Of course, Mr. Marlowe."

  Nick turns to Gabriel. "You too
."

  Jasmine practically jumps out of her desk. "Mr. Marlowe! I need to speak with you."

  He glares at her. "Not now."

  "Yes, now."

  He ignores Jasmine to stare down the programming team. "This goes for everyone here. If you don't want to work, I expect your resignation by the end of the day, and I expect your desk cleared by tomorrow morning."

  He storms past Jasmine. Past me.

  Our eyes connect. He looks away like he's embarrassed by his outburst. Then he disappears into his office.

  The door slams shut.

  The room drops to a hush. Nick is a force of nature, but it's not enough to scare me off.

  I move towards his desk.

  Jasmine grabs my wrist and pulls me aside. "Miss Wilder, that's not a good idea."

  "Do you have a better one?"

  "Nick is resilient. He'll be okay."

  "Okay is relative."

  Jasmine leans in to whisper. "You know what it's like with family, the smallest things become so big. When it's already something big... He needs space."

  "You loved Shepard, right?"

  "Of course, but—"

  "Would you have left him alone like this?"

  "Nick isn't Shepard. You need to let him calm down."

  "No, I need to help him calm down."

  "Oh." She nods like she's giving me her blessing. "Be careful. He'll blow a gasket if people start gossiping about you two, and I don't have the patience to talk him down." She looks me in the eyes. "This will get out at some point. Tech is still a sexist industry. People will be impressed by Nick's conquest. They'll call you a stupid slut."

  "I don't care. I can't let him sit there in pain all by himself." I turn, march to Nick's office, and knock on the door.

  "It's Lizzy." I don't want for a response. I turn the knob. Thankfully, it's not locked.

  Nick rises from his seat on the couch. "Go back to work, Miss Wilder."

  I press the door closed and turn the lock. "No."

  He stares me down.

  It's difficult to do anything but melt. Somehow, I hold strong. "You're upset. I want you to feel better."

  "Go back to your desk."

  This isn't working. I need to get more aggressive. I reach around my back, unzip my dress, and push it off my shoulders.