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Chained to You, Vol. 1-2

Page 13

by Alexia Praks


  "Mia? Tell me what's that smell on you," he demanded again, coming closer toward me.

  Even in this state of bewilderment, I was still going to provoke him, as he'd ordered me to do. Thus, I held my head high and haughtily said, "Find out yourself."

  He stopped suddenly as he cocked his head to one side, his eyes intense on me. I blushed when I noticed the bulge in his pants was getting even bigger. Shit! Then it hit me. Was me playing hard to get turning him on? Was that why he made me disobey him? That realization made my core burn hot with excitement.

  Oh God! I just realized that I, too, got turned on by playing the weak, resistant maiden who'd be ravished in the end anyway. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be true that I liked being chased. Was this even normal?

  "Mia?"

  I jumped at his dark voice. "Yes, James?" I replied, a docile look in my eyes as I gazed at him through my lashes.

  "Strip for me," he ordered.

  I blinked. "What?"

  "I want to find out what that smell is. Strip for me," he commanded.

  I licked my lip again, my hands slowly moving to the hem of my shirt. I rubbed the cotton material between my fingers and thumbs, contemplating whether to obey his order or not.

  "James?" I queried meekly.

  "Yes, Mia?"

  "You didn't cool yourself down at all, did you?" I was playing with the material of my shirt now as I gazed at the floor.

  He chuckled. "No, I didn't." He came toward me as he said, "I kept thinking about your obedient body, about your cute breasts and your tight little ass. I kept thinking about your wet pussy and how much I want to fuck you."

  My body shuddered at his blunt explanation and my face burned red. I raised my eyes and glared at him. "Why do you have to use such foul language?" I demanded.

  He arched a brow at me. "The shower didn't help," he admitted. "Now come here and let me find out what that smell is."

  I frowned, pissed all of a sudden. "Why do you want to smell it so much? That scent?" I couldn't help but ask.

  "Because I like it," he stated bluntly.

  I pursed my lips. That cursed frangipani scent. That cursed shower gel I'd brought from Mystic Spring. I had no idea it could cause so much trouble. I liked smelling nice, though, and it was the cheapest option out of all the other shower gels, too.

  I released my shirt then and turned on my heel. I decided on another tactic. I changed the subject completely. To one I knew got on his nerves.

  "Aren't you going to take me to see Andy? It's getting late, isn't it?" I headed toward the stairs, hoping like hell the subject of my brother would make him livid, and that strong emotion would annihilate his arousal. I was pretty sure getting someone pissed would definitely slaughter that mood.

  "I'll get my bag," I added as I ascended the steps.

  I didn't dare turn to look at him. I was too afraid of what I'd see. Had my smart tactic somehow managed to douse his excitement? Yet the thought of his desire for me completely dissipated disappointed me.

  I was halfway up the stairs when I heard a growl, followed by, "Fuck, woman, you're too good at stirring me up."

  I gasped at the rude insult and twisted in anger. The moment I saw him coming after me, my anger scattered into the air, and a mixture of fright and excitement erupted within me. I took action immediately and raced up the rest of the steps as fast as I could.

  James laughed sarcastically, loud and clear, as he chased after me. "Mia," he called out.

  I arrived on the landing and then rushed toward my bedroom door. I didn't make it in time, though. James caught me by the arm and spun me around. In one smooth motion, he scooped me up in his arms and headed straight to his own room.

  "James?" I queried, my heart pounding. "I thought you'd calm down. You promised to take me to see my brother."

  He ignored the subject of my brother and said, "The only way to calm me down is you."

  "Aren't there other ways?" I asked naively.

  He looked at me then, and a slow, sly smile appeared on his face. "I'll show you how one day, and you can assist me."

  I regretted asking that question instantly. The look on his face made me utter, "No. No, that's fine. No need to show me."

  "Oh, but I insist," he said. "Now let's find out what that scent is."

  He deposited me on the length of his bed as I said, "You can find that out yourself. It's in the bathroom, on a shelf." I pointed toward the door of my own room, hoping like hell he'd take the bait.

  He didn't. "Oh, I will." He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead gently, like that time in the motel. It was a kiss so warm and sweet it took me by surprise. For a small moment, I felt a warm glow like the sun shining within me. I blinked, my heart racing and my mind wandering.

  "I'll find out right here on you," he said, his large hands cupping my face. Then his lips found mine, and he kissed me passionately.

  My body was on fire, and I melted into him. Suddenly, he became all rough and mean; his tongue wild and demanding, thrusting against me so hard I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, my core twisted and burned with needs.

  "Ngh... Ah... Uh... Mmm..." I groaned. "Ja-James... Ngh..."

  He released me from his hot kiss then and turned his attention to my body.

  I was breathing heavily as he stroked my collarbone slowly, marveling at the structure as if he were very fascinated by it. Suddenly, his hand was on the material of my shirt, and in one smooth motion, he ripped the cotton fabric to pieces, tearing it off my body.

  "James!" I shrieked.

  Oh my God! This man acted like a barbarian, tearing at my clothes. Even his kisses and hands were rough and demanding, every action urgent and quite brutal. He was worse than last night. What had I done to make him this way? Or was it anything I'd done at all? Was he just now showing me another side of him? Suddenly, I got a bit freaked out at that thought.

  A sly smile played across his lips as he touched my bra. I knew without a doubt what was going to happen. Thus, I hastily slapped away his hand and scurried away from him. I didn't get far, though. He caught me by the small of my waist, pulled me back to him, and pinned me on the bed. As I struggled below him, he snuggled his aroused shaft between my legs.

  I gasped. "Huh!"

  Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! He was so warm, hard, and big. And my stupid body responded to him, twisting and burning with need and anticipation.

  He chuckled as if he really were enjoying the situation tremendously. Truth be told, I found it quite delightful as well. Only I was pissed, too. It was so unfair. He'd just ripped my very last wearable shirt, and if I didn't stop him, he'd destroy my last bra, too. Thus, I fought him, but my comeback didn't last long. In an instant, he had his hand cupped on my breast, and then in one forceful movement, he ripped the bra off me.

  I gasped, but my sound of protest was muffled by the greeting of his lips against mine. "Ngh... Ngh..."

  He plunged his tongue into my mouth and wildly devoured me. I tried to deflect him, but it was no use.

  "Ngh... Ngh..." I groaned again and again. Oh God. Oh God. I couldn't help it. His kiss was both barbaric and wonderful, and I couldn't resist him. A part of me, however, still defied him, if only to make him that little more ruthless in his treatment, though I had no idea why I wanted that.

  My hand thrust at his chest, trying to shove him off me. He caught both my wrists in an instant and secured them over my head, his hand tight on me. With the other, he trailed down my body and slipped into my pants.

  When he finally let my lips go, I was breathless and more than a little dazed. My face was flushed and my eyes glazed over with the intense sexual need within me. My body buzzed and tingled all over, and I couldn't stop moaning and groaning. I wanted more. I wanted him to lick me and bite me. I wanted him to devour me and take me in every which way. More than anything else, I wanted him to fuck me in the most primal, brutal way he desired.

  That thought made me breathless and dizzy. I wanted James to do the most inappropr
iate, painful things to me?

  I gasped and my body shook in a cold sweat. What had James Maxwell done to me? He turned me into a wonton wench. He made me lose all innocence and morality.

  "You're already wet and ready for me," he said softly, interrupting my panic attack.

  "Huh?" I made an incomprehensible sound. "Ahh..." I sucked in my breath as he played with my folds. I bit my lower lip, trying to force myself to make him stop, but my body shuddered and wouldn't listen to my command.

  "Such a good body," he praised.

  I gazed up at him, my body weak and willing as he continued to enjoy tormenting me, his fingers bathing in the thickness of my wetness.

  "Oh... James..." I murmured under my breath.

  "Hmm..." He chuckled. "Such a good girl," he said. "Listening to my every command. Such a sensual body." He sounded pleased.

  He dipped his head and kissed my breast gently. Then he took the nipple into his hot mouth and proceed to lovingly abuse it; sucking, licking, nibbling, and biting the sensitive bud as I cried out in exquisite agony.

  "Ahhh... James..." I continued to groan and writhed beneath him, my whole body in a frenzy of heat.

  Then I felt him roughly pulling my jeans down my legs. I had a vague feeling my panties wouldn't be far behind. I was right, and he ripped the thin material from me, pulling it to shreds. He looked as though he enjoyed it very much, destroying my clothing and seeing bits and pieces of the material clinging onto my skin here and there.

  By this point, of course, I was too mindless to be pissed with him about my last pair of undies. I could no longer control my own body. I could no longer control my own thoughts. Whatever his command, both my mind and body obeyed without resistance.

  Hence, I just lay there in that very wonton position, naked and waiting to be pleasured by the billionaire.

  James lifted one of my legs, and before I knew it, he thrust into me. I gasped the instant I felt that hot, large shaft intimately inside me, burrowing its way deeper.

  He was rough and wild, hammering in and out of me unrelentingly as he held on to me tight to keep me imprisoned within his embrace.

  "Oh God... Oh God..." I muttered. "Ja-James..." My body coiled and burned every time he pushed into me. I couldn't breathe properly. I gritted my teeth as I stared at him, as my body moved along with his rough rhythm.

  He, too, was staring down at me. I noted his dark, intense gaze, the burning within him, the fervent need for release. My whole body shook at the realization of how much this man obsessively wanted me. That game we had played earlier must have built up the fanatical passion within him, the fervid craving, so much so that his need for sex was stronger and wilder.

  Oddly enough, I found I loved that. I loved he was wild and rough with me. I loved he wanted me so much that it made me feel like I was his prize.

  He must have seen the spark in my eyes and chuckled darkly. It was as if he couldn't control himself any longer and eagerly crushed his lips against mine. As he madly kissed me, his thrusting became faster and more powerful.

  Suddenly, he let my lips go. "Mia..." he muttered. "Fuck! Mia!" he said through gritted teeth.

  "Ja-James! Uh... Ahhh... I'm gonna come... Ahhh..." I groaned, and then I did, long and slow as I writhed beneath him as my world shattered and darkened. My whole body tensed and then twisted in a coil of burning heat, and suddenly, I was breathless.

  When I opened my eyes, James was watching me, a dark look in his eyes. Then slowly, he smiled.

  I blinked, still breathing heavily.

  James flipped me over so I lay on top of him. I was so exhausted I couldn't move. He wrapped one arm around me and chuckled.

  I couldn't find anything that was amusing and wondered why he chuckled. If this happened every day, I was pretty sure I was going to expire in no time. He'd need to find himself a new mistress. I wouldn't last five years. But of course, I couldn't allow myself to perish sooner than the expected timeframe.

  I really had to have a word with him about our sex routine and tone it down.

  He seems awfully happy and full of energy after such laborious sex, I thought in irritation. But as tired as I was, I couldn't tell him off about that either. Hence, I closed my eyes.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 23

  James

  Mia Donovan, the naive girl from the small town of Mystic Spring, with a contagious smile and sexy body, was a hot mess. Her long, dark hair rested luxuriously over his naked skin, draping over him like a seductive lover. Her face was snuggled at the nape of his neck while her naked body lolled on top of him with a sort of careless abandon any man would find alluring.

  She was still breathing heavily, exhausted from their unexpected morning sex. Well, unexpected on her part. For James, however, he'd known since he'd made the offer for a contract that morning sex with her was part of the deal. Honest to God, what man wouldn't want to make love to such a beautiful, lascivious body? The body that had innocently, seductively enticed him since the first time he'd met her? The body that obeyed his every command?

  Sex with Mia Donovan was definitely amazing, and James hadn't had that in a long time. Not, in fact, since his first time with his ex-wife Whitney when he had been twenty-one, after they'd had their first date.

  The heat and softness of Mia's body and breath tugged a warm feeling deep in his heart. She felt good in his arms, as though she'd always belonged there. She was a perfect fit; one that made him smile, one that made him feel complete, whole, and just awesomely content.

  As instantly those feelings came, however, he thought, Shit! What the fuck are these feelings?

  He certainly didn't want to get emotionally involved with the opposite sex--with Mia Donovan especially. She was just his mistress, after all. Their contract, and hence their relationship, was just that--sex. Nothing else.

  To get emotionally involved was to ask for trouble, and James certainly didn't want trouble where his feelings were concerned. Besides, he'd had that particular shit with Whitney and look how it had turned out. Screwed. So fucking screwed. And that repulsive woman was still screwing with him, taunting him whenever and wherever she had the chance, provoking him with her presence and extravagant lifestyle and, of course, her refusal to see her own daughter, not even once after she'd run off with another man.

  Even during the tumultuous period of their separation before the Gordian knot of their relationship was finally cut, she'd caused a lot of trouble, not only for him, but for his entire family as well. She'd always disliked his old man Bernard Maxwell, and even Scott and Eric were both on her blacklist.

  The fact that she disliked his family background immensely really shocked him. Why the fuck did she agree to marry him in the first place? Her decision and her way of thinking was a mystery to him, and he wasn't in any mood--either in the past, now, or in the future--to find out.

  Even though his thoughts were dark and dismal in regard to the opposite sex, James, without thinking, moved his hand and cupped the back of Mia's head, his fingers and thumb intertwining with her long hair. She had lovely hair, and it was only natural he buried his nose in that long softness to inhale the scent.

  What was it? That beautiful scent. He needed to find out.

  Mia lifted her head then and stared at him.

  James watched her with interest. She had that particular radiance on her face again, that look that James knew she wore whenever she wanted to be ravished by him. He'd seen it the first time when she ran into his room naked that first day and once again in his office back at the mansion when they'd been negotiating the deal. She'd worn it yesterday, too, after she'd signed the contract. That had been why he couldn't stop himself from taking her, even though her words had suggested otherwise--that she had been afraid, unsure, and tired.

  He knew she was afraid of him and what would happen after the contract was signed and sealed, that she was unsure of the process and she was tired from her journey. But that particular look on her face--the please fuck me
face--that irresistibly lewd expression that begged him to ravish her without her uttering a word, that was the point of no return for him. He had surrendered to the inevitable and took her. He'd known he'd been rough with her, but God, it had been great sex, even for her first time.

  This morning, too, she had that please fuck me expression clearly on her face. Oh, the excitement he'd seen in her eyes and the seductive yet defying voice when she was disobeying him--that had turned him on in an instant. He felt like an elephant in heat, ready to stamp her and brand her with his kisses and bites. He'd been ready to fuck her in the most primal way. The thrill of chasing her and then aggressively taking her was exhilarating, and the sex was some of the best he'd ever experienced.

  With the reminder of this morning's game combined with that particular look on her face, James couldn't help himself and drew his head to her again. His lips met hers with a searing kiss.

  "Ngh..." She groaned. "Mmm..."

  He loved it when she made those erotic sounds. To him, they were a type of pleasure meter that gave him indication of how much she enjoyed being with him.

  Encouraged, James arrogantly kissed her more passionately, his tongue wild in her mouth; stroking her, licking her, and dancing with her. God! She tasted good. He was completely addicted to Mia Donovan, and that was fine with him.

  When he drew his head back, she looked beautifully dazed. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, and her lips red and swollen with moisture from his kiss.

  She lay there staring up at him, breathless. James couldn't take his eyes off her as he stroked her cheek. Once she'd calmed down and her breathing evened, without a word, she pushed herself off him and moved over to the other side of the bed, intending to get up. He wouldn't have any of that, however, and caught her arm in an instant. He easily pulled her back to him, tugging her tight in his embrace.

  "Huh!" She made the sound as she pulled a face.

  James couldn't help but think how pretty she was with that particular expression. The woman was disarmingly beautiful in every countenance.

  "What's that smell on you, Mia?" he asked, burying his face in the nape of her neck. God, he loved that scent. It suited her.

  Mia tried to push him away. He held on tighter as she said, "I would have thought you'd have figured that out already, Mr. Maxwell."

 

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