HOLDEN (Billionaire Bastards, Book Three)

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HOLDEN (Billionaire Bastards, Book Three) Page 14

by Ivy Carter

Jesus, Penelope, get a freakin’ grip.

  Suddenly, I hear what sounds like a handle turning. I startle and sit up in bed, drawing the sheets up to my chin. But I locked the door. I know I did! I stare at the door but it doesn’t open and neither is the handle turning. Am I imagining it? I stand to double-check the lock but before I can test it, I see him standing in the bathroom doorway.

  My heart stops. I can barely breathe. I wrap my arms around my torso, fighting off sudden chills. “Mr. Townsend…”

  “I thought I told you to keep the door locked at night,” he growls, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeved shirt and rolling them up. He has tattoos on his forearms.

  “I—but I did. This door is…how did you…” The bathroom. He came in through the bathroom’s second door—not the one to the bedroom, but the one to the hallway. Damn it. I’m so stupid. “I’m so sorry. That was my fault.”

  “Indeed it was your fault, Miss Wallach.” He crosses his arms and gazes at my body in the feeble moonlight coming in through the French door. “And why is that door open?”

  “I like the breeze at night. I can close it, though, if you want. I’m so sorry…” I make for the door, but he stops me.

  “No, leave it. It’s fine. I like what it does to you.”

  Does to me?

  His gaze falls to my chest, and I know that my nipples are hard and aching. I don’t stop to think about it often, because I’m so busy surviving life, but I need a man. Sometimes I feel my body will explode. Ethan steps into the room and looks around, as if to see what I’ve been up to. I don’t know what it is about him, but he makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong even when I haven’t. I feel naughty in his presence, and though I didn’t have an aggressive father growing up, I feel like he’s going to spank me for being insolent.

  Isn’t that what he called me on Monday? Something about impertinent?

  Shivering in my tee and panties, I feel so naked and vulnerable in his presence, but I do nothing to cover myself up. Because I’m also titillated by his presence, his tall form looming in the darkness, his eyes roving over my body, part of me is thrilled that he’s seeing me this way. Suddenly, I fully realize why he wanted me to lock the door—because of this. There’s undeniable and unspoken heat between us, even in the cool, dark room. He steps closer to me, as my heartbeat races, and I swallow a lump in my throat.

  My throat.

  Where I imagine him kissing me, biting the soft flesh of my lips, forcing my mouth open, where he’ll then plunge himself—

  No. Stop, stop, stop. I have to stop these random sexual thoughts of my boss from popping up at the most wrong of times.

  A warm flush spreads over my body, and if Ethan had no idea what I was thinking up until this moment, well he does now. Jesus, I want him so badly. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly and never imagined my boss this way. I was too busy thinking of him as an asshole, but now that he’s here in my room, staring at me with those eyes, sucking on his inner lip, fighting his lustful male need, seeing right through me, all I want is for him to put me out of my misery and take me.

  “Clearly you’re not fit for this job, Miss Wallach.” He takes a slow step toward me “I should have listened to my intuition when I told you to leave earlier. It was one simple rule.”

  “Forgive me for forgetting about the bathroom door,” I nearly hiss, staying in control. I cross my arms over my chest so he’ll stop looking at my breasts even though they long for his touch. So hard trying to stay proper when I want so much for him to strip me. “It was an honest mistake.”

  Ethan’s eyes flare with fire as he stares at my body and into my eyes. His burn with anger, but now I think it’s more with himself than it is with me. He can’t control himself around me, can he? He didn’t want to hire me because I am attractive to him, not the other way around. I get it now. The realization fills me with confidence and power. Now that I see him as weak flesh and blood, as just a man, he’s becoming more human to me. And more human means more appealing…

  I step over to him, fighting my lust with every ragged breath. Even though I’ve only been with one guy my entire life, and it was terrible enough to forget, my body’s desperate need is driving me. Rein, my high school boyfriend for three months, could never compare to this experienced, powerful man standing before me. Not the same neighborhood, not even the same universe. In the same moment, Ethan takes a confident step toward me and before I know it, he’s pulled me into his arms.

  Magnetic.

  Commanding.

  I’m weak and submissive to his desire. Or maybe it’s my desire for him that manifested this. Either way, I’ve only dreamed of arms like his—strong, outrageously muscular—and a body like his, and now…of a mouth like his, consuming and taking me into his relentlessly. He doesn’t let me go, nor do I want him to. I couldn’t stop now even if I tried.

  His tongue tastes of hot mint and freshness as it licks, explores…

  What the hell is happening? I’m kissing my boss, that’s what, and his stubble grazes my face. This is so wrong, but I can’t think about the consequences right now, because my body grows weaker, and I quickly begin falling down a spiral, knowing for a fact that I won’t be a nanny at this home for much longer. After failing this first test, I’m sure to be fired.

  Screw it. At the moment, I don’t care. Because he feels fucking amazing, and I’m a woman held by a man’s power before I’m anything else.

  Ethan

  I was rock hard before I tried the door to see if she’d been following my instructions.

  So when the door gave way, I knew it was over.

  For both of us.

  I’m pissed that I’m here, pissed that she caught my interest so damn quickly. I’ve tried staying away from her the last three days, but my darker needs got the best of me. Now here she is, giving in, just like I knew she would. She needs it. It shows all over her body language. She needs to come hard. The only question is where and when I want her to come.

  Only one reason why she would unravel so quickly, even as she tried sassing me first—she needs a good fuck. And I’m the man to give it to her. Penelope disintegrates in my hands like she’s under the spell of my kiss. I don’t blame her. Kissing is my favorite way of getting the panties to drop voluntarily. She wants so badly to detonate. Maybe she’s never been with anyone. Maybe I was right and she spends her time before falling asleep touching herself, and I walked in at the right moment.

  Whatever the case may be, she failed me.

  I was hoping she’d be stronger than I am, but it appears we’re both weak. She had to go and leave her door unlocked. A clear invitation. If there’s anything I can’t resist, it’s a clear invitation into a bedroom. I feel her body thawing under me so quickly, I have to hold her up. I continue the onslaught on her mouth—that lovely, pretty mouth that I want to fuck—and I’m not sweet about it either. She has to understand what she did to me, letting me come in while she stands there in a flimsy old shirt, nipples poking through, inviting me to touch and suck on them.

  Her body is as ripe and succulent as I knew it would be. Tasting her sweet mouth and tongue only gives me a preview of things to come.

  And I know it’s going to be good.

  Reaching down, I pull up the edge of her shirt and lift it over her head. She gasps and tries covering herself with her wrists but I take them and hold them behind her back with one hand. Her tits push out at me—perfect, round with a heavy spread to them, big light pink nipples. Bending low, I pull her waist toward me and wrap my lips around one of them, sucking on her tit while I squeeze the other, pinching the nipple.

  God, they’re so good. She’s bursting with lust and my cock feels like it’s going to explode if I don’t bury it deep in her tight pussy soon.

  She gasps, tries pushing me away, and when I let her go, she grips my shoulders and reins me back in. We’re clear then—the feeling is mutual. I could kneel and suck on her tits all day. And maybe I will. Playing with the fleshy tips, I graze
them with my teeth and move from one to the other. I could throw her in bed, curl up by her side, and suckle on those pretty nipples ‘til they’re sore all night.

  Lifting her, I carry her to the edge of the bed and let her fall, bouncing on the mattress. She looks up at me with those nervous, lustful eyes reflecting pale green and brown light.

  Bending to kiss her deeply one more time, I feel her nimble, small fingers fumbling with the bulge in my pants. My cock strains against the pressure, and I can almost hear the words “let me see it” running through her head. She pulls open my belt and zipper and a moment later, her eyes widen, and that’s the perfect time to fill her mouth with my cock. Innocent, sweet eager mouth. Succulent, hot, and tight.

  The warmth and wetness of her tongue envelops me, and I have to groan. God, yes. She’s slow and deliberate, wrapping her lips around me as my cock slides to the back of throat then pulls out again, then sliding back in. I feel her tongue bathing me, licking, and slurping up the shaft, then she slides down and takes my balls into my mouth.

  Holy fuck. She’s supposed to be young and innocent. At least, that’s how she was in my mind. At this point, I’m not sure who’s more in control—me or her. But it has to be me, no matter what. My house. My rules. “Get on your knees, Sweetness.”

  Her eyes question me, but she does as I ask, even though I see her hands shaking. “Yes, Mr. Townsend.”

  “Not like that. On all fours, Sweetness.” Craning my neck to the side so I can see her tits slope so beautifully, she gets on all fours. I love it. I can tell her to do anything and she’ll do it.

  “Like this?”

  “Like that.” Holding her face still, I revel in how gorgeous she looks in this position. So submissive, a dog in heat, and there’s no shame in that. I would do anything to have her like this nightly, even daily. “Open your mouth,” I tell her, and after a moment’s hesitation, she does. “Beautiful.”

  I slide my cock into her mouth and slowly fuck it.

  Fuck that gorgeous face, that sassy mouth. “Maybe you won’t talk back as much now,” I tell her.

  And this is all her fault for leaving the bedroom door unlocked, as I warned her not to do.

  Clearly, she doesn’t understand the monster that lurks inside every man.

  But Sweetness doesn’t care, because Sweetness is hungry for my stiff cock. Hungry for a release. I know because she’s reaching down to fiddle her clit through her panties while she pleasures me, but she won’t be doing that herself, not while she’s under my roof. Damn it, she’s putting a kink in my plan. “You want to come?” I withdraw momentarily.

  “Yes, Mr. Townsend. So badly. Please fuck my mouth again, and I will.”

  Sassy and sexy as fuck with her backtalk.

  “Oh, no. You don’t call the shots, Sweetness. I do. On your back—now.” As perfect as that pleading sounded, I can’t have her thinking she’s in control of me. Doesn’t work that way. Penelope scrambles to her feet then slides onto the bed, pushing back so she’s centered. Her legs are slightly parted, and her breathing is ragged, uneven. “Take those off,” I say, eyeing the panties. “Slowly.”

  Her fingers hook into the sides of her light-colored panties, soaking through with her juices. I can see it even in the soft light and it makes me harden even more, if that’s possible. “Like this, Mr. Townsend?”

  She’s fucking with me. Even in sex, she’s spirited as balls, and God help me, I love it. But she cannot be allowed to know that, as I can’t encourage this sort of behavior and disobedience.

  “Yes. Like that, Miss Wallach. You hear how we’re addressing each other? That’s how we will always address each other. Why?” I say, as she plucks off the rest of panties and tosses them to the corner of the bed. Her pussy glistens as it drips. I can smell the warmth between her legs like a wolf picking up blood in the forest. I want it. I need it like I need oxygen.

  “Why, Mr. Townsend?” she coos, reaching down to touch herself.

  I kneel between her legs, grab her wrist and push it to the side of her body. “Because this is a professional relationship,” I say, pressing my nose against her hot skin, taking in the lust and pure desire waiting for me there. “And it will continue to be one, and that is why you will never, ever leave your door open again. Are we clear?” I press my tongue against her clit and hold it there.

  Not moving.

  Not licking.

  Just pressing.

  She shudders with need. “Yes, Mr. Townsend. I’m sorry for disobeying you. I just need to come so badly.”

  “Again,” I say, lighting licking around her clit, dipping into her juices, and familiarizing myself with my Sweetness’s innermost secrets. “I call the shots. You lay back and learn.” My finger slides into her, and she moans aloud. The sound is like music, art, and lyrical dance all rolled into one. I could sit in an empty theater, front and center, and listen to the sweet refrain over and over again. I give her two fingers to hear just how amazing she can get.

  Her groans fill the room. I’m so glad there’s no one in the house to hear her through the baby monitor in the room next door, because that sound is for me alone. I don’t care that I barely know her—she’s mine.

  I feel the need to possess her deeply, down in my gut, in my balls.

  Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this before. For a moment, there’s a flood of anxiety that almost makes me second-guess myself. I don’t want to get in deep with anyone, don’t want to lose myself in another person.

  But then I shake it off. My lust overcomes whatever fears this woman brings out in me.

  Pressing my tongue onto her clit, I begin to lick and suck, flicking that hard, tiny kernel against my mouth, coaxing it into submission. More beautiful sounds emit from her throat, as she grips my hair and writhes against me, pushing her folds into my face, coating my tongue with her elixir.

  I drink it. I drink, because there’s nothing more amazing than this woman’s pussy pushing against my nose and mouth, begging for more, dying for release. I intensify the onslaught with my fingers, fucking her tight little cunt while I continue to lick, feeling her legs tighten, knees press against my head, and I know she’s mine. She’s mine and forever will be. Tightening her grip around her hair and bending to one side, she fights against the waves even as they come. Even from here, I see her nipples stiffen as she cries out, but I don’t stop licking her. I lighten my strokes but kiss her through her orgasm, feeling the muscles spasm around my fingers.

  Fucking sweet little temptress.

  When she’s begun coming down from her high but not quite drifted into the middle realm of giddiness, I stand, flip her around, then slide her to the edge of the bed. Like a cat getting dragged away for a bath, she holds onto the bed sheets, glancing around for clues as to what I’m going to do.

  “My turn, Sweetness.” With her pussy still dripping from her orgasm, I slip my cock into her cunt, hold onto her hips, and plow in. I need her, want her, have to have her, make her mine. Drive it all the way home.

  Wrapping her legs around mine, she’s still facing down, facing away, so I don’t have to see her pretty face, don’t have to feel anything when she looks at me, because this won’t be happening again.

  Even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself.

  In any case, while I have her, she will obey me. She will listen, and she won’t beg for more after I fuck her, because I’m going to wear her out.

  “Have you ever been fucked like this before?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “No, or no, sir?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, the next time you leave your door open, I won’t be this nice. You hear that, Sweetness? This is me being nice.” I fuck her harder, hold onto those hips, and relish in feeling that ass, watching it jiggle with every pound I give her, contract with every stroke.

  Little do I realize until I’m almost close to coming that her hand has disappeared between her legs. She’s getting off on my cock’s onslaught. Damn,
she really needed it. I would tell her to stop—not on my territory—but I just want to feel the release now and sensing her muscles tighten again around mine would only enhance it. Still, I can’t have her calling shots, so I reach around and double her efforts by pressing my hand on hers.

  Her neck strains out, and I ride her ass from behind. She groans long and loud, and the result is so animalistic, it’s transcendent. “Come again, Sweetness. Come all over my cock.” I love it. I love the juices, I love her hot breath panting, I love the way I’m crouched behind her like some animal catching its mate off-guard, pounding her until we both lose ourselves in the sound and fury and ecstasy.

  She feels so good and tight around me, I can’t take it anymore and I blow my load into her delicious pussy. So. Fucking. Good. This woman belongs to me. The whole thing feels so right, that it isn’t until my brain turns back on, as I come down from this high, that I realize I wasn’t wearing a condom. She didn’t care, and I assume that’s because she’s on birth control. Still—it can’t happen again.

  The mantra I need to repeat until it becomes fact.

  We’re both exhausted. I barely have the strength to lift her and settle her down on her pillow, then I curl up next to her. I should probably leave, but I can’t—I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight in what’s left of the moonlight. An angel waking up from a dream, glancing at me like I’m her star-crossed lover, then falling asleep faster than she came.

  I look away. I can’t take in the vision. I can’t stare straight at her or I’ll feel, and that was the last thing I wanted when I came here.

  Still, I stroke her arm gently and move her hair all to one side, because it’s too silky not to touch, and anyway, she’s fallen asleep. Fascinating creature, this Penelope Wallach, some kind of siren beckoning me to the rocks, where I will surely crash and be destroyed if I let myself. And I’m a fucking idiot who needs to get the fuck out of this room before I ravage her all over again.

  Once she’s twitching in her sleep a half hour later, I slip out of bed and pull on my pants, carrying my shirt over my arm. I give her one last glance—beauty in sleep—before exiting the way I came in, through the bathroom. Turning off the hallway light, I close that door and quietly shuffle past the baby’s room. Inside, Lilly Belle stirs, whining in her sleep. Did she hear us grunting and moaning in there? Is she dreaming about her mother?

 

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