The Billionaire Possession Series: The Complete Boxed Set

by Amelia Wilde

  “You risked it on the way here.”

  “You know very well that we stopped before anything really happened.” Her hands clench into fists in her lap, but she works to relax them. “I can see how agonizing this must be for you.” She grits her teeth. “I’m willing to bend the rules…this once,” I say, watching her carefully.

  Ruby tips her head back against the seat, blue eyes meeting mine, pleading. “To do what?”

  “Spread your legs.”

  She bites her lip, moving her knees apart without a single moment of hesitation. “Like this?”

  I purse my lips. “Not quite.” Then and only then do I reach for her, putting my hand against her knee and pulling gently outward, one inch, then two, then three. Ruby arches her back, her hands rising from her lap to cling to the edge of the seat behind her. “Like this. Keep them that way.” I keep my tone casual. There’s no threat of punishment there, but she tenses anyway, locking her legs into place.

  Yes.

  I’ve never had any use for the kind of dominance that some of the men in my social circle prefer. I don’t need a special room dedicated to sex furniture or whips or chains. I’d rather keep things simple: a length of soft fabric and my voice. For some women, that’s not enough. For Ruby, I have the sense that it will be everything. I almost laugh but swallow the sound. Between the two of us, things will go so much deeper than that. They already have.

  I had to rush before, when I finger-fucked her, panting and trembling beneath me.

  Now there’s no rush.

  I trace a path up the inside of her spread thighs with one fingertip against her smooth, flawless skin. Her knees shake—she’s struggling to keep them spread so wide, but not willing to give in to her instincts. “Oh…” It’s a little moan. Ruby closes her eyes. That, at least, she can give in to.

  How long do I take to work my way up to her panties? Not more than a minute, maybe two, but by the time I make contact with that damp fabric she’s breathing hard. When my fingers brush over that layer between my fingers and her folds, she gasps, her legs moving apart another half-inch, but I don’t stop there. Ruby is wound so tightly that she groans in disappointment.

  No. Instead, I bring my other hand up under her skirt and hook my fingers in the waistband of those panties, yanking them down. When they stretch too wide between her legs I wrench the fabric between my hands, tearing it with one quick motion. They’re abandoned on the floor of the town car in an instant.

  We’re still twenty minutes away from my penthouse, and Ruby is beside herself. Her ass is pressed firmly against the seat of the town car and her juices are already trickling down between her legs. With her legs spread wide for me, I can see her delicate pink folds. She rocks her hips, showing me more, then less, and opens her eyes to meet my gaze.

  “What game are you playing?” Her voice is a raw whisper.

  I lean back in and plant a single kiss on her neck. “This game.”

  I start with my hand above her knee and take my time moving up and up and up toward her pussy. Ruby bites her lip but she can’t stop small, begging mewls from escaping, and I don’t want her to. The sounds send spikes of pure need through every part of me. I want her at that same level when we arrive at the penthouse, and I know how to get her there.

  My fingers make contact, and she moans low, opening wider, her hips asking me to fill her.

  I don’t.

  I put my thumb against her clit and rub, one slow, slow circle.

  “Here’s the game,” I murmur into her ear. “Don’t come.”

  25

  Ruby

  He’s killing me. He’s killing me, his thumb tracing those slow circles around my clit. I can’t get a breath in, and when I finally gasp in another lungful of air it’s not enough. It’s not enough. I need more. I need to come.

  I feel like screaming.

  I don’t know how long it takes to get to his penthouse. I’m in a world without time, a world centered only around the tiny movements of his thumb and the epic struggle not to let the desire raging between my legs get the better of me. I want to do what Levi said. I want to follow his order not to come. It’s turning out to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not one of the personal trainers my dad hired for us over the years ever put me through anything as brutal as this. How can such a gentle, controlled touch be driving me so wild? How can one command already be the foundation of the universe?

  My legs ache from spreading, and the heat between my legs is so intense that I’m gritting my teeth by the time the town car pulls up in front of a building. I don’t know what building, and I don’t care. Nothing about it registers—the only thing that matters is that Levi is pulling his hand away from my skin, his eyes fierce and admiring. Then he leans in one more time. “Good girl.” A zing of satisfaction moves down my spine, but I don’t linger on his praise. I can’t. I have to get out of this car before I explode.

  Phillip pulls the door open from the outside before I can get a grip on the handle, and I launch myself out onto the sidewalk.

  My knees buckle underneath me.

  Levi is right behind me, and his laugh is liquid heat. “Be careful.”

  He doesn’t stop there. He scoops me up into his arms like I’m weightless, like I’m some kind of princess, and heads for the door. “You did this to me.” I say the words against his neck, the scent of his cologne filling my breath.

  “You love it,” he says.

  “I hate it.”

  “Two things can be true at once.”

  Two things are true at once.

  There are three sets of doors on the front of the building, and Levi takes the set to the far left. It’s a private entryway hiding in plain sight. The other doors must lead to the public lobby, or the public entryway—I’m assuming I’ll find out later—but these aren’t marked in any way. Inside, everything gleams, from the elegant tiled floor to the mahogany desk the doorman is standing behind. He’s in motion as soon as he sees us.

  “Mr. Blake.” He makes no mention of the fact that Levi is carrying me at all. He only hurries across the relatively narrow space and presses a white key card to a panel outside the single elevator.

  “Vern.”

  He has a separate lobby to access his penthouse. Most of the people in Conyers Farm aren’t on that level. Levi might actually own this entire building, not only the penthouse.

  He steps into the elevator. The doorman Vern is already heading back to his desk.

  When the doors slide shut behind us, Levi puts me back down, my feet firmly against the floor, but he doesn’t take his hands away from my waist. “Are you alright standing up?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, I’m not alright. You’ve been torturing me for so long that—”

  Then his lips are on mine, raw and passionate, my back up against the cold interior of the elevator, and his fingers are between my legs. My panties have been totally abandoned by this point, and no part of me is embarrassed about it. This is where we were going all along.

  I’m still slick, and Levi doesn’t hesitate to push one finger inside, then two, then three.

  “It’s awful to be tortured.” His voice is low in my ear. “You’ve been torturing me for days. But all of that ends now.”

  “Here?” The elevator glides to a halt. I hadn’t realized we were moving.

  The doors open and Levi tugs me inside.

  The entryway of his penthouse reminds me of the lobby below—hardwood polished to a high shine—but ten steps in and everything has gone sleek and modern, a monochrome color scheme that screams of space and minimalism. It’s practically empty in here, but I don’t have time to think about it.

  I’m still burning up.

  Past a spacious living room, down a long hallway, and Levi is pushing open the door to the master bedroom. As soon as we’ve crossed the threshold his hands are on my dress, working at the zipper, dropping it to the floor.

  Pure desire. It’s so raw and strong that it sharpe
ns every one of my senses. I feel every caress of the air against my bare breasts as Levi lets my bra fall to the floor on top of my dress. His fingers fly over the buttons of his shirt, and then I’m raking my fingernails down the cut muscles of his chest, his abs.

  He stops to sweep me around again, backing me up toward the master bed and pushing me back on top of the ottoman at the foot—black and wide and imposing, leather like the seats of his town car—and spreading my legs apart again.

  This time, he kneels in front of me and bends his head down.

  At the first stroke of his tongue against my slit, my hands fly up to my mouth, catching the low cry that gets louder by the second. Levi reaches up, his tongue tracing another rough path over my opening, and takes both of my wrists in one strong hand. He pulls them away from my mouth.

  I’m so close to the edge—a wonderful, aching, molten edge—that I don’t recognize the sounds I’m making. All I know is that his hand around my wrists, his firm grasp, is sending another wave of pulsing heat between my legs. I tug a little, so he’ll tighten his grip, and then I can’t wait anymore.

  Pleasure crashes over me in a wave so powerful that it jerks my hips away from the ottoman, pressing more of me into Levi’s mouth. He is relentless, sucking at my clit, stroking with his tongue, licking, licking as I come so hard it feels like my soul might be flying apart. He doesn’t stop at the first one, either. He teases another orgasm out of me with his tongue against my pussy, and then a third.

  When he finally lets go of my wrists, I’m almost certain I’m floating above the ground.

  “Oh—” I gasp for breath. “That was—”

  His hands are on me again, lifting me.

  “That was just getting started.”

  26

  Levi

  Ruby has never looked more stunning than she does right now, with her skin flushed pink from multiple orgasms and her eyes big and blue and shining. She puts her arms around my neck and lets me lift her onto the bed.

  “Levi?”

  “Yeah?”

  She locks her gaze on mine and takes in a big breath. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I might lose my mind.”

  I lean down and swirl my tongue over one of her nipples. They’re both hard pebbles, and so sensitive she gasps. “Mine is already gone.”

  Ruby puts her hands on my face, tugging upward so that our faces are level, and kisses me. Her lips are soft and tentative, but only for a moment. The kiss takes a dive into sensual territory, Ruby rocking her hips in a slow rhythm against mine, but neither of us can keep the heat at a low level. We’re past that. She thrusts her tongue into my mouth as I take her other nipple between my fingers and roll it in my grip, hard enough to make her moan.

  She pulls back a few inches, her eyes filled with bottomless desire. “I need you.”

  Her voice is so low she’s almost whispering. It doesn’t matter. They unlock the last barrier holding me back from making her come until she’s screaming my name.

  Ruby is already spreading her legs underneath me, her entire body an invitation, and my cock pulses between us, so hard it aches. If she needs me, then I need her a thousand times more. I crush my lips against hers, claiming her mouth as I line myself up with her slick opening.

  Her eyes go wide as I make contact. “God, you’re—” Then she bites her lip, reaching down between us. Her petite hand barely closes around my shaft.

  Her grin is all wickedness.

  She tips her head back and I lean down, licking at her skin. Ruby’s firm grip on me is almost enough to make me come right now, so I focus every bit of my attention on the pulse at the side of her neck.

  She knows what she wants.

  I’m supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one dominating this encounter—it’s what I’ve been promising her all along, one command at a time—but somehow Ruby has taken over. My uncomplicated dominance is nothing in the face of the raw, electric sweetness she’s radiating right now. Sweet, dirty…mine.

  She swirls the head of my cock in her juices, pressing me harder and harder against her opening and then backing away.

  “Fuck.” I growl the word against her collarbone.

  Ruby laughs, her nipples pressing against my chest. “It’s only fair. You made me wait…”

  “I made you come. I think you might need a reminder of how—” Her hot wetness feels so good. “—a reminder of how amazing that felt.”

  She guides me into her, half an inch, and it’s all I can do not to lose it right then. Ruby is tight and ready. Her lips fall open and she spreads her legs another inch to accommodate my hips, then slowly takes her hand away.

  I look into that blue, endless gaze. “There’s no going back. Not after this.”

  Her next words come through gritted teeth. “Take. Me.”

  I do.

  One powerful thrust, and I’m inside her to the hilt, Ruby’s back arched, her hips rising from the bed to meet me. Her muscles tense around me, building on her tightness, taking me in. Her body wants more of me, and I give it to her. I thrust in again and she cries out, fingernails making tiny crescents on my shoulders.

  I reach one hand up and circle her jaw. “Look at me.” She might have taken control for a few moments, but I have it back. At the sound of my voice, her pussy clenches hard around me and her eyes fly open, looking straight into mine. I can’t help the wild grin that flies across my face. So that’s what she likes. I was pretty certain before. Now I know. “I’m going to fuck you until you come even harder.” I keep my voice even, claiming her in a hard, steady rhythm that makes her breasts bounce up and down with every stroke. “And you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

  It doesn’t take long.

  Ruby struggles to obey me, and even as she does, she gets wetter and wetter, her pussy reluctant to let me go. Tiny gasps escape from between her lips, and her hands rise to my wrist—not to pull my hand away, but to make sure I don’t move it. She loves this. Holy hell, she loves this.

  “Tell me—” She can hardly get the words out, and something desperate comes into her eyes. She’s right there—she’s right there. I can feel it. And this—this is Ruby begging me to push her over the edge, send her flying into the kind of pleasure we both need to survive. “Tell me. Please, Levi. Tell me.”

  There’s a single moment where I don’t know what to say, but she’s so urgent that the meaning finds its way into my mind. I know what she wants to hear. I know it like I know the sun will rise in the morning.

  I thrust into her—another little cry, another little gasp—and tighten my grip on her jaw, never looking away from her. “You belong to me. I’ve claimed you. I’ve taken you. You are mine, Ruby, and I’m never going to give you up.”

  Her legs tremble with every word, and I come down hard on the last phrase.

  That’s what does her in.

  Her mouth opens and she sucks in a big breath. Her eyelids start to flutter shut. She remembers at the last second, as her pussy throbs around my cock, her hips jerk away from the bed, and I drive myself in deep, rolling my own hips so that she feels all of me pressed against all of her.

  Ruby’s voice is low and rough and wild as she comes, staring into my eyes, color rushing to her cheeks. Even in this moment, she must be aware enough to feel how intimate this is, to look at me like this in her most vulnerable moment, crying out, a rush of begging.

  The grip of her pussy around my cock is what forces me over the cliff into my own release. It’s not until Ruby breathes no that I realize I’ve started to close my own eyes. “Please…”

  I look into hers, still holding her in place as all the pent-up frustration of the last weeks pours out of me, every muscle working to deliver a final round of thrusts so powerful that they press the air out of Ruby’s lungs. When it’s over, when I’m finally spent, Ruby is breathing hard.

  I turn us over, pulling her close against my chest, and rest against the comforter. A quiet pleasure runs over every inch of me, warm an
d expansive. There’s nothing on earth better than this. The thought comes lazily into my mind and floats back out.

  Ruby laughs, a quiet, low laugh, full of satisfaction.

  “What are you laughing about?” My voice is a low murmur.

  “That was so—” She pauses, taking in a breath and letting it out, a happy sigh. “That was incredible.”

  “It was.”

  “But you know what?” She props herself up on one elbow and looks down at me, tracing the line of my jaw with her fingertip.

  “What?”

  “We’re only getting started.”

  27

  Ruby

  “What’s that song?”

  I turn toward the doorway with a smile. Helen stands framed against the light from the courtyard windows behind her, her curls piled up on top of her head in a haphazard bun. “What song?”

  “You’re humming.”

  “Was I?” I flip the manuscript in front of me closed with a gentle thwack. “I must have gotten carried away in the reading.” This time, it’s not an excuse for being distracted—I really was paying attention to the words on the pages in front of me. One of the submissions to the contest is a sweet romance with a sci-fi bent, the kind of fairy tale retelling that normally makes me want to run in the opposite direction. I see why the interns sent it up. It’s fresh and funny and suitable for a huge audience, and that makes it very appealing to Drawstring Press.

  Also to me, because my mood since last Friday has been fantastic. Not that the author wasn’t as delightful last week. It’s that Levi Blake, of all people, has put me in the mood for comedy for the first time since everything started happening with Henry and my parents.

  It doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense, but it’s true.

  I left his penthouse in the early hours of Saturday morning. He’d blinked up from his pillow, his flawless skin sleep-lined and flushed, and my heart had jumped into my throat. “I’m leaving.”