by Ava Claire
My cheeks caught fire, not missing the hint of a threat. To tread carefully. Jacob had quite the kinky, mischievous imagination. And from this whole affair, it was clear he wanted to keep me on my toes.
“I’m glad you’re wearing the dress. The confidence you feel when you’re slaying at the office? It sizzles through every stitch.” He slipped his phone into his cup holder and pressed a button that reclined his chair. “And when we walk into the club, you’ll be the only submissive without a collar. Defiant from head to toe.”
I had a bad case of whiplash, basking in the compliment at the start of his statement and frowning at the dig at the end of it.
I gripped the armrest when I realized I’d missed a key chunk. The biggest clue he’d given yet. “Club? What club?” My throat tightened, two words echoing in my head over and over.
He said ‘submissive’. And ‘collar’.
The first one wasn’t out of the ordinary. I was Jacob’s submissive; I wore that label with pride while we were in the moment. The important piece of the puzzle was the ‘we’. As in, me and Jacob.
Private.
Maybe I had too much wine at dinner and this was some sort of delayed response, but it sounded an awful lot like Jacob was taking me to some sort of club.
A sex club.
I leaned in, dropping my volume, even though Maggie was in a different compartment. “Are we going to a...special kind of club?”
Jacob adjusted his headrest, his eyes still closed. It took hours, professionals, and couture to make me look effortlessly sexy. Like some ad in a magazine, way too beautiful for running to the grocery store. My husband was dressed down and he still had an air of sophistication. Like a sculptor molded him from clay.
The perfect man in the flesh. A sleeping Greek god.
A sleeping Greek god who had no interest in playing 20 questions.
“I suggest you get some rest-” His voice was low and ominous. “You’re gonna need it.”
RENO?
I kept my question in my head, blushing for the umpteenth time as Jacob helped me into the car, then tucked the rest of my dress in behind me.
I didn’t bother telling him I had it, peeping the driver standing behind Jacob with nothing to do. I was betting that he was used to a different kind of clientele. Gowns were nothing new, but the male half of the couple assisting his partner before he settled in and got back to whatever business he had to take care of? That was rare. Helping was for the help.
Once I was settled, Jacob leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. It was a flash of intimacy, a split second that reverberated through me.
“What kind of prince would I be if I didn’t help my Cinderella into her carriage?”
He closed the door while I grinned like a lovesick idiot, complete with stars in my eyes. My view was tinted and it was O’dark thirty last I checked, but I could make out the exchange between Jacob and the driver.
“Thanks for the lift-?”
The driver gaped at Jacob for a second, then shook his hand. “Names Malcolm, Mr. Whitmore. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Malcolm. And you have the address to the estate, correct?”
Estate?! I thought we were going to a club?
“Yes sir.”
Both men sprang into action, Jacob joining me in the backseat. Miles slid behind the wheel.
I reached for Jacob’s hand, deciding I’d try a different tactic. Ooze kindness and compliments and maybe he’d finally put me out my misery. “Cinderella wishes her carriage was this badass.”
I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his butt. We’d traveled in swanky vehicles before, but this one would rank in the top 5. It was a luxury SUV built for a king. Onyx colored leather seats were beneath us. There was clearly an extra row that had been removed, an after market addition of a sleek table in front of us. I had a feeling the silver knobs meant there was some sort of minibar beneath. A TV screen hung down from the ceiling, the home screen welcoming us personally. It also shared up-to-the-minute news and helpfully offered the temperature as well.
“Let me show you my favorite function.”
The car rocked into motion as Jacob swiped a tiny remote from the center console between us and a partition glided into place, separating the backseat from curious eyes.
I swallowed the butterflies dancing in my gut. How was it possible that he still made me feel like we were at the start? Filled with hope, falling in love-
Love? Love has little to do with what’s going on between your thighs.
I bit my lip as Jacob slid closer and my pulse quickened from his gaze alone. A gaze that told me wherever we were headed was irrelevant because his sole concern right now was me.
And from the gleam in his eye, he had something delightfully naughty in mind. Something worthy of giving us some privacy. Something that would cement the fact that I’d never stop falling in love (and lust) with Jacob Whitmore.
He skimmed my arms with his fingers, giving me goosebumps to go with the liquid desire that was making it hard to focus on anything other than his mouth. The contours of it. Wondering how it would taste. Wondering what his next command would be—and if he’d notice if I disobeyed it, just to find out what it would cost me.
“You’re dying to know where we’re headed, aren’t you?”
I flicked my eyes from his mouth to his eyes. I’d say that was safer territory, but the truth was, his eyes were just as arousing as his mouth. Especially when he unabashedly stared at my breasts.
“I’m definitely curious,” I downplayed it, dusting a wayward curl from my eyes. There wasn’t enough gel in the world to keep it under wraps for long. “I didn’t know that Reno was the place to go for sex clubs.”
His eyes drew back to my face. I wasn’t nearly as good at downplaying as I thought I was, from the knowing glimmer that rippled in the blue.
“Interesting. I never said we were going to a sex club in Reno.” He didn’t let me get in my follow-up, reading my mind. Well, we’re going to a sex club somewhere. “In fact, I never said we were going to a sex club at all.”
I almost rewinded the tape, sure that he’d mentioned clubs and collars and that meant we were going to some sort of club...or a BDSM museum. It had been awhile since we got our culture on, but I doubted Jacob would go through all of this to take me to a museum, even if it was an erotic one and-
“I can see the gears working and I’m gonna stop you before you miss the whole point. Where we’re going isn’t important. That you’re here-” He moved closer, lips brushing my ear as his hand reached for my hair. For my bun. All the work was for naught as he unleashed my curls. They tumbled all over the place, not unlike my dress, but from the moan he exhaled against my skin, I knew that this was his heaven.
Me, unfiltered.
“We have a bit of a drive. Plenty of time for me tor remind you that I’m a man of my word.”
Before I had time to catch my breath or digest his words, his fingers dipped to my side, finding my zipper. He pulled it down nice and slow before he moved to the floor in front of me. The bustier fell away and I didn’t stop it. Didn’t rush to cover my breasts, self conscious about how big they’d gotten. How they sagged. I felt desirable and not because he looked like it was taking everything in him to not devour me. Loving Jacob, being loved by him, was like unlocking a part of me. It didn’t mean my insecurities didn’t crop up from time to time. It meant that underneath it all, when I trusted myself, I knew that I was right where I was supposed to be. Deserving of the flush that tinted his olive skin. Flushing myself when he gripped my breasts.
Tugged them.
Made me croon.
He replaced his hands with his mouth.
Lips tasting me.
Lips wrapping around my nipple.
Tongue flicking, making me hold on to him for dear life.
“Jacob,” I groaned, my fingers tangled in his hair. “God, that feels good.”
He dialed it up, mixing tu
gs and licks and enough bite to make me hiss and arch into him. Trying to clear the tulle so I could bring him closer. Fade into him.
He sat back on his haunches, hair wild. Eyes ravenous. Eyes locked on my skirt. I lifted up, ignoring the sting when my head collided with the ceiling. I’d never wanted something off so badly in my life.
Clearly, Jacob was on my wavelength. I didn’t get a reminder of who was in charge that grounded me to my seat. He was up, two sets of hands trying to find the zipper in a sea of tulle. There was a collective sigh of relief when we found it.
My fingers were beneath his and I pulled away, letting him do the honors and from the low, hungry growl that echoed from him, he approved.
He tugged it down just enough that I could wiggle out of it. I gasped as he pushed me down on top of the whimsical fabric, his movements frenzied, wanting, but filled with purpose.
I fell back, hanging off the edge of the chair as he feasted with his eyes.
Fucking me without touching me at all.
He was hard at work on his fly, his shirt discarded at some earlier point that I’d missed altogether. The back of the car looked like a dressing room. We were both a mess of sweat and lust.
“Show me how wet you are for me.”
It was the first official order he’d given and I ate it up. Spread my thighs. Made him wait, running my hands over my breasts. Down my stomach. Gliding down my fevered flesh until I hit my epicenter.
I quivered as I obeyed, showing him.
Feeling his gaze.
The cool air on my lust.
He felt it for himself, his fingers sweeping across my opening. Teasing the length of it. Making me squirm. When he plunged inside me, I started babbling.
“Oh GOD...babe...I...Jesus...ho-ho-ho-holy crap!”
He beat a furious rhythm, the sound of my body rivaling the sound of his mouth. Licking, sucking my nipple. Biting my neck. And just when I thought it was impossible for me to take anymore, my whole world, my whole existence screaming for more, he gave it to me—and then some.
He gave no clues, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, all things considered. He had me in his hands, gripping my hips as he pulled me onto his thick shaft. Impaled me with his cock. I was lost, drowning in a sea of him, tulle, pleasure, and the thunder in my ears. It was too much, and at the same time, I wanted more.
I clutched him, thrusting, bringing my hips to meet him. Pulled him deeper. Marveling at the fact that this man, this sex god in the flesh, was looking at me like I was the succubus. The one that would end him—and he’d welcome that end with open arms.
“Come for me, Lay.”
Command #2, and his timing was spot on because I was right on the edge. In that beautiful, danger zone where I would spiral into madness. Into desire. Where my reality would collide with his and we would just fade into each other.
I fell into the bliss.
Fell into Jacob.
It wasn’t until we were both tangled up in tulle, jeans, and bobby pins that I realized that he really was a man of his words.
He told me he wanted to take the dress off me personally—and that’s exactly what he did.
WE’D PUT RENO BEHIND us, giving way to mountain and tress as far as the eye could see. We spent most of our time in the city, where trees and green spaces were something you had to Google.
That was no problem in South Lake Tahoe.
“Look!” I nudged Jacob, blushing when I realized he already was, his face mere inches from mine as we stared out at the lake. It was nearly black beneath the moonlight. Boats speckled among the still water.
I was snapping pictures, sending them to Megan in real time, before I realized that it was almost 3AM back home and she couldn’t see much in the dark. I put my phone away as we turned down a side street, driving past quiet homes with what I was sure was a priceless view.
But if you wanted to put a price on it, quiet/modest or no, these houses cost a pretty penny.
We eased down the road and I could tell we were drawing close. Jacob had gone quiet, stroking my hand like he was having second thoughts.
I gave his hand a squeeze before I brought it to my mouth and pressed a kiss on his palm. I wanted him to know that wherever we were headed, I trusted him.
The driver made a wide arc and pulled to a stop.
I peered out Jacob’s window, my heart pumping when I saw a guard shack. It wasn’t too different from the one at Alicia’s, but this guard hadn’t smiled in years.
He exchanged a few muffled words with the driver, then tapped on Jacob’s window. I expected Jacob to roll his window down so I could get a good look at the guard’s no nonsense face, but he rolled it down a few inches and said a single word.
“Risk.” He rolled it back up immediately.
Curiosity was about to kill me dead. “What’s risk?”
“The password,” Jacob replied, with a cryptic little smile.
The car powered forward, through huge iron gates that reminded me of a castle. I half expected to find a moat with some sort of drawstring bridge we had to cross. Instead, an estate that reminded me of Jacob’s in Venice rose out of the darkness. Tailored green lawns. Fountains. And a chateau that looked ominous with stone, iron and glass. A building we must have been going into since the driver put the car in park.
I smoothed my skirt futilely, trying to get ready for whatever lied behind those doors when my door was yanked open. I expected to see Jacob, but there was a woman instead.
A butt naked woman.
As in, she wasn’t wearing a thing except a collar and a grin.
Horrified, my eyes shot to her buzzed haircut, then accidentally fell to her chest before I opened my mouth to apologize. To ask where her clothes were.
“You must be Leila!”
How the heck did this naked chick know my name?
I averted my eyes before I turned to Jacob for some clarity, but I was on my own.
His eyes were locked on the woman. Not because he was a red blooded male and she was naked as the day was long, mind you. He was gawking at her like one would look at a ghost, right before you screamed bloody murder and ran for your life.
I snapped my attention back to the woman, but she’d forgotten all about me. She invaded my personal space, leaning in with her perky breasts dangling in my face.
“Hey, stranger.”
Jacob knew this naked chick?
I whipped my head back to him, feeling a sense of dejavu. Furiously tamping down the urge to hurl accusations. The last time I jumped to conclusions, it bit me in the ass, but something on Jacob’s face brought my world grinding to a halt.
He knew her.
He...knew her.
“Leila,” he said quickly. “I had no idea-”
“I’m Dylan.” The naked chick held out a hand, her smile broadening as my stomach shrank. “I was Jacob’s first submissive.”
Thank you for taking the time to read The Billionaire’s Risk. Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, AC
Loving The Billionaire Series
The Billionaire's Kiss, #1
The Billionaire's Caress, #2
The Billionaire's Risk, #3
The Billionaire's Mistake, #4
The Billionaire's Secret, #5
The Billionaire's Vow, #6
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.
Connect with Ava:
Blog: http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com
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Twitter: @avaclairewrites
Stay tuned to my blog for up to date information on my works in progress and release schedules!
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