Filthy Rich Alpha

by Virna DePaul

  She gasped and caught his gaze. He stared at her, steady, frozen in motion, waiting for…for what?

  For her to decide, she realized. He’d heard her the other night, when she’d said she was done hiding and running and that she was going for what she wanted. He’d heard her, too, when she’d argued against being controlled. He’d known, somehow, that her arguments had been a subtle message that she in fact wanted to. To be taken care of. To have someone else take control and let her simply be.

  I should protest. Shouldn’t I?

  But she didn’t. Somehow, Branden knew her. Really knew her, and with that knowledge came trust. So what she did was actually put her other arm up over her head, too. As she did, she could feel her core throb. Yes…she wanted this. She wanted to be possessed. Taken. And to ultimately be in control.

  Because Branden had made it clear, even in his silence, that she was in control here, even as he took her over.

  He wrapped that wrist, too, then wrapped the ties around the posts of the bed. When he was done, he placed the loose ends of the wrap into her open palms, closing her hands around them so that she knew getting loose was her choice, if and when she was ready.

  He moved his mouth down to her breasts and wrapped his lips around one of her taut nipples. He sucked it in hard and fast, flicking it with his tongue. She moaned and writhed on the bed, and he placed his hand on her other breast, twisting and manipulating that nipple while his mouth continued to devour the other. He slipped his free hand down between her legs to massage her there. She ground her hips down—she was so wet, so hot, so ready. He released her nipple from his mouth and she thought about grabbing his head and forcing him back down before she remembered the silk ties. As his mouth sucked in her other nipple, he caught her by surprise and plunged two fingers into her wet, waiting depths.

  As he moved his fingers in and out of her, he used the edges of his teeth to scrape gently at her turgid nipple. He reached up to her face and used his other hand to caress her lips. She sucked his fingers into her mouth, making love to them the same way she she’d made love to his cock just a little while ago. He slipped a third finger inside of her and she began to buck her hips wildly and thrash about on the bed. She cried out his name.

  “What, baby? You like that?”

  “It feels so good.”

  “Is there something else you want? Something else I can do for you?”

  “I want you inside me.”

  “My fingers are inside you.”

  “No! I want your cock inside me.”

  He smiled and slipped his fingers out of her. She let out a frustrated little cry until she felt his mouth replacing them. He ran his tongue along her slit, grazing her swollen clit as he did. Every nerve in her body felt exposed as he plunged his tongue deep inside of her, using his fingers to open her up so he could push in deeper, making her squirm and cry out, making her want to scream.

  She strained hard against the silk binds but she still didn’t slip loose. Swiftly, a powerful orgasm washed across her body. Branden kept up the gentle pressure on her sensitive clit with his tongue, riding her through the orgasm, which seemed endless.

  Her body slowly lost its rigidity as she came down from her climax, and a fine sheen of sweat coated her body. She lay there, completely relaxed. She could have gone to sleep right then and there and slept like a baby all night if not for the fact that he hadn’t had his release yet, and she wasn’t willing to leave him in that state.

  He climbed over her and between her legs, then held there, waiting. Teasing. Making her want and need and moan. She lifted her hips and draped one leg across his back, trying to draw him in, seeking to fill her heat with his. Instead, he held himself against her and let her slide up and down, encouraging her to roll her hips and press against him. Finally, when she thought she might go mad at the teasing, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him as he thrust into her. She cried out and he let out a long, deep moan

  Wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her against him so tightly that she could barely breathe, he began pounding her relentlessly. She didn’t just want to scream any longer, she did scream. She screamed as she climaxed, and she felt Branden grow and swell inside of her just before he cried out and climaxed as well. They lay there panting and gasping for breath, both of them able to feel the heavy beat of each other’s hearts in their chests.

  “That was…” She breathed out, unable to form a coherent thought. “Sorry. I can’t seem to find the right word.”

  He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “How about fabulous? Incredible? Fantastic? Wonderful? Marvelous?”

  She shook and her breathing still wasn’t quite back to normal, but she giggled anyway. “Any more adjectives in that mental thesaurus of yours you’d like to add?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “I can come up with more. Mostly to describe your amazing body. And how brilliant you make me feel. I’m on fire when you’re around, Cara. On fire, and at peace.” He rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair, but kept an arm around her, holding her close. “I’ve never felt that way before. You’re beyond compare, Cara.”

  She hitched a breath. Yes, men had told her sweet nothings before. But mostly as a perfunctory act. Like it was their job to tell her she was pretty or she made them feel good. None of them had ever made her believe it before.

  None of them had been Branden.

  She realized his breathing had settled into a regular, deep rhythm and his arm under her had relaxed. He’d fallen asleep, with her in his arms. A wry grin crossed her face. He’d left her tied up. She opened her hands, gathered the silk in each one, and tugged.

  Her binds were released in an instant.

  She lay there, relishing the steady rise and fall of Branden’s chest and wondering what it was about him, what kind of power he had, that made her so willing to do anything…as long as it pleased him.

  The more it pleased him, the more it turned her on.

  She hitched around and came up onto her elbow to stare at him. The drapes in the bedroom hadn’t closed completely; the corner of one had caught on a modern glass bookshelf and the faded light of New York’s nighttime illuminated the room with a yellow-gray glow. Under the muted light, sound asleep, Branden looked younger than his thirty-plus years. The vulnerability she’d seen in his eyes when he spoke of his sisters now was prevalent in every line of his face. The soft way his lips were gently closed. The ease around his eyes. The lack of frown lines furrowing his brow.

  In sleep, the powerful mogul Branden Duke looked sweet. Soft. So very real.

  He looked like someone she could fall in love with.

  And that thought scared her more than the knowledge someone had spied on her and taken pictures. Scared her more than any exam she’d ever taken at school. Scared her almost more than the day she’d come home from school to see her mother in the cold and dark living room, shaking with sobs, unable to talk—to form words to say her father had died.

  She closed her eyes and snuggled into him. She would analyze it all tomorrow. Tonight she just wanted to sleep and feel the strength of his arms around her.

  Once again, Branden and Cara were awakened by the doorman’s buzzer. Branden was alone on his own side of the bed and Cara was curled up on hers. Something struck him—he was thinking of that half of his bed as Cara’s.

  When had that happened? And why so suddenly? He’d never identified any part of his life as belonging to a woman he’d dated before.

  “Oh dear God, does that thing ever stop buzzing?” Cara mumbled.

  “Not when Alex is involved,” Branden said in a sleepy voice. He reached over and hit the button. “Good morning, Nolan. Is it Alex again?”

  Nolan let out a little laugh and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Send him up.”

  “Sir, he has several police officers and a detective with him, as well. Is it okay to let them all come up?”

  “Yes, Nolan. Thanks.”

  Branden groaned and rol
led out of bed. He turned to look at Cara, who was still lying with her face in the pillow. Her blond hair was splayed out and she was covered to the waist with the sheet. Her slim, smooth back was so tempting he wanted to touch her.

  He knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop, so he forced himself to walk to the door.

  She groaned loudly again and flopped on her side. Now her creamy breasts were exposed, and without his consent, his erection moved to full staff.

  “Why did you move way over there?” he asked.

  She peeled her eyes open and looked to see where she was.

  “Oh, on this side of the bed? I have no idea,” she said. Then with a sleepy grin she said, “Don’t take it personally, big guy, I was asleep. What time is it?”

  “Four,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. It is officially O-dark-hundred.” He gave in to his urge and walked back to the bed, then leaned down and gave her a kiss on the side of her face. He reached out and tucked a silky piece of hair behind her ear and then he kissed her mouth.

  “Too early,” she moaned.

  “For my kisses?”

  “For anything.”

  Branden laughed again and went out to let Alex in. When he opened the door the men, including the police officers, were yakking away, not giving any thought to the fact that it was only four a.m.

  It was a good thing Branden owned the entire floor.

  “We’re going to have to stop meeting like this,” he said wryly to Alex.

  Alex looked toward the bedroom and said, “Or maybe you need to stop getting laid on the weekdays.”

  “Maybe if you had your own sex life, you wouldn’t have to be so concerned with mine.” Branden looked at the men, who were fiddling with several items. “What are they doing?”

  “You see that wire and the little black box on the end of it that my buddy Detective O’Reilly there is holding?”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a pretty high-tech little system and it was living in the wall right outside your door. It automatically takes a photograph anytime your front door opens. It saves the photo here on its little hard drive, but it also transmits it out to another system. It turns out that your little day manager, Nate, was getting paid to look the other way as the…renovations…to your hallway were being made.”

  “Paid by whom?”

  “That’s where it gets tricky,” Alex said. “He says he never got a name, just a suitcase full of cash.”

  “Who gave him the suitcase?”

  “When Detective O’Dell and I first started talking to him, he wouldn’t say. By the way, that was well after midnight. Do I get overtime pay?”

  Branden gave him a look. Grinning, Alex went on. “Anyway, we spoke from around one a.m., when he said that ‘some guy’ gave him the bag, until approximately three a.m., when he suddenly was able to give us a first name of Chuck and a description of a man. The detective is going to introduce him to a sketch artist later on today.”

  Branden stifled a groan and said, “What about Cartwright?”

  “Uh, well…I have to make a phone call…”

  Branden laughed and said, “Where did you leave him?”

  “I plead the Fifth. Let me call my brother and ask him to release…um, I mean…excuse him.”

  “So how long has the camera been there?”

  “According to the day manager, Nate—who by the way is just a lovely man—it was installed just about a month ago.”

  Huh. About the time he’d started formally working with his sister and the SEC to set up the investigation into Dubois & Mellan once the purchase went through.

  So was this related to Davies, or to his and Deena’s investigation? Had someone tipped off the crooks buried in D&M that the SEC was investigating? Could this be business and not personal, as he’d first assumed?

  For a moment, Branden frowned as realization hit. For all he knew, the SEC could have planted the camera. If so, why? To make sure he wasn’t playing both sides?

  “Do you think there’s something similar set up at the mansion? That was where the first photo came from.”

  “I sweep the place on a regular basis, and nothing’s turned up. But I’ll run out there when I leave here,” Alex said.

  “Okay, good. We’re going to have to check the office. And Alex, I want this done discreetly.” Which was Branden’s way of saying he didn’t even want Deena to know about it. He trusted his stepsister implicitly, but he had to rule out an insider at the SEC.

  He could tell immediately by his expression that Alex understood him.

  “I’m all over it,” Alex said. “Then I’d like to put Lee and my other men in place while I take a little plane ride.”

  Energy shot through him, revved him up. But the energy was dark. Heavy. “Davies? Lee found him? He’s alive?”

  “Alive and well and currently in Punta Cana. It’s a tiny sovereign nation in the Caribbean. They have no extradition treaty with the US. Offshore banking is very big. Nice beaches.”

  Branden cursed. Davies should not be toasting his scaly, aging flesh on a tropical beach. He should be rotting in hell. Just thinking about him made Branden’s blood boil.

  “If he’s involved in all this, he’s pulling strings.”

  “And I’ll find out who the puppet is.”

  Branden thanked him and walked him out. Cara was in the kitchen when Branden got back into the apartment. He told her what Alex and the officers had found in the wall.

  “Wow, so this is a lot more than catching the interest of the paparazzi,” she said. “Whoever put that camera there wanted a photo of every single person that comes into or leaves your home. It’s almost like you’re being stalked.”

  “Yes,” Branden agreed. “This is serious, and I need to be prepared.”

  “So does finding this out give you any new ideas about who it may be, or who they may be working for? Could it still be Davies?”

  “I’m keeping an open mind. Given our backgrounds, I’m still betting on Davies, but the big question is motive. I’m just not sure…” He paused, then turned to her and caught her face in his hands before kissing her, soft and sweet, cherishing her lips. Her scent. The way she trembled under his hands. When he pulled back, he frowned. “And, Cara, no matter what, I’ll keep you safe. I will protect you.”

  Chapter 16

  Everyone had their own way of dealing with stress. Some people knitted, some ran, some sat in dark, seedy bars and drank gallons of alcohol. Cara cleaned house and ran numbers. Staying at Branden’s meant housecleaning was no longer an option—the maid took care of that daily—so she played with spreadsheets. She took comfort in the fact that with numbers, everything added up and made sense.

  It had been three days since they’d discovered the camera inside the wall at Branden’s apartment. The police had a sketch of the man who had put it there, but so far a match hadn’t been in any law enforcement database.

  Alex had also found a camera hidden deep inside one of the rocks in the gate that marked the entrance to the mansion. It was a high-powered camera that picked up images five hundred yards away with stunning clarity. The lens was no more than a dot, the same color as the rock it was hidden in. If Alex hadn’t known to look for it because of the one they’d found at the penthouse, it would likely have never been found.

  Cara was still staying at Branden’s penthouse, and she was often present for Alex’s daily updates. They were no closer to making sense of Branden’s stalker or Cara’s role in things, but she and Branden had ample time to become more obsessed with each other.

  And oh, God, was she ever obsessed.

  Agreeing to stay at his penthouse while the threat was still out there had been both a blessing and an undoing. Because except when they were at work or dining out, they were having sex. Lots and lots and lots of sex. In every position known to man, and some she’d never even imagined in her wildest fantasies.

  But what shook her w
orld most was how, after they collapsed, physically and sexually spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, fingers entwined, legs scissoring, her head on his chest, rising and falling with each breath, his heartbeat strong in her ear, his breath gently moving her hair.

  She knew now how he fell asleep—how right before he’d completely drift off his entire body would stiffen then jerk, as if jolted by an electrical current, then he’d sigh, pull her close, kiss the top of her head, and drift off.

  She knew how he’d wake in the dead of night and reach for her if she’d drifted away from him in sleep. How he’d curl around her and cup her breast in his palm. Kiss the back of her neck. Make small, warm sounds in the back of his throat.

  And she knew how he’d sometimes whisper her name when he thought she was asleep.

  What she didn’t know, however, was what was happening to her.

  For once, Iris wasn’t returning her calls or texts. She’d sent one brief text, saying Spr bsy—job hunting—will txt in a few days. Cara hadn’t known what to do without having her friend available to discuss the chaos that was currently Cara’s heart and mind.

  Because chaos was the only word she could use to describe the churning of emotions and thoughts that wouldn’t leave her alone during those empty moments. The moments when she wasn’t crunching numbers or when she wasn’t having sex with Branden or when she wasn’t laughing with him over some stupid thing he used to do to his little sisters. She’d come to not only respect him over the last few days, but like him a lot. And need him more than a little.

  And that scared the shit out of her. After her father died, her mother had fallen apart, leaving Cara to bear the burden of responsibility for herself, her mother, and her brother. Her mother had been dependent on her father for everything—her dad had always been in control of the major decisions in the family, including the finances—and her mother had been lost upon his death. No way did Cara want that to ever happen to her.

  She made her own way in the world.

  And she could never come to need Branden. That would set her up for a huge fall.