The 100 Series: A Billionaire Romance Trilogy

by Adrian, Lara

  God, the truth is, I simply love . . . him.

  “All right, you two,” Gavin says, giving a clap of his hands. “We’re cleaned up and ready to roll. I’ve sent my staff home and I’ll be shoving off here in a minute myself.”

  Nick nods. “Lock up on your way out.”

  “You got it, chief.” Gavin pivots to me and offers a slight bow. “My lady, a pleasure.”

  “Thank you, Gavin. Nice to meet you too.” I glance at Nick in question as our handsome personal chef strides out of the room, cutting the lights as he goes, and leaving us alone under the candle light. “They’re not going to serve the dessert?”

  “No,” Nick says, a dark glimmer in his eyes. “I am.”

  Chapter 10

  I watch, transfixed and anxious, as Nick slowly stands up, unfastening his tie. Draping it over the back of his chair where his jacket rests, he steps away from the table and walks toward me, casually rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up on his muscled forearms.

  “Don’t move, Avery.”

  Oh, God. I couldn’t if I tried. His voice is so deep with carnal command, it roots me to my seat.

  I’m not even certain I’m breathing as he approaches me on the other side of the table. He’s so tall and powerful, so darkly masculine, everything female inside me responds with eager, wanton invitation.

  “You look so beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, reaching down to cup my face in the cradle of his broad palm. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to send everyone away so I could touch you—so I could taste you—the way I’ve been dying to all damn night?”

  His words make me shiver. They make the warm, wet knot of yearning between my legs twist even hotter, even wetter. His fingers slide beneath my chin, traveling along my jaw line toward my ear as he moves behind me now. I close my eyes when his hands come to rest lightly on my shoulders. The heat of his body at my back radiates so intensely it’s a wonder I don’t melt right where I sit.

  “Jesus, these pearls,” he says, moving his hands down onto the swells of my breasts, then into the tender valley between them where the long strand is nestled. He leans down, so close to my ear that his voice vibrates through me. “I can’t see you in them without remembering how sexy you looked with them roped around your wrists while I fucked you.”

  “Yes.” My words shudder out of me, my heart pounding rapidly. “That’s all I think of when I’m wearing them too.”

  My sex clenches at the memory of his cock buried deep within me and his finger delving into the tight channel of my ass until I came in wave after wave of violent pleasure. For as long as I live, I know I’ll never be able to see a string of pearls and not think of Nick and all of the dirty, wicked, delicious things we’ve done together.

  He reaches for them, gathering the strand in his fingers. The gems click and slide against one another, sending another erotic shiver through my body. He lifts the necklace off me, over my head.

  “Hands behind your back, baby.”

  As soon as I comply, I feel the cool pressure of the pearls being wrapped around my crossed wrists. He binds me just tight enough to hold my hands immobile without straining the delicate string of precious gems. I’m not going to test them. I’m not going to test him, because I know this is only the start of the pleasure he has in mind for me. With Nick, there is always more to come.

  Once I’m bound, he takes hold of my chair and drags me back from the table. He steps in front of me, looking at me with a combination of approval and hot lust in his eyes.

  “So beautiful.” His fingers skim tenderly beneath my jaw, tilting my face up. “What would you like to try first for dessert?”

  I watch as he reaches over to the cart and removes the polished dome lids from the bowls of ripe berries, decadent sauces, and a mound of fluffy whipped cream. I can’t possibly choose, and besides my only true temptation is the man who’s got me totally under his thrall.

  “Surprise me.”

  His black brows arch in mild amusement. “You told me once that you didn’t like surprises.”

  “I’m learning to like a lot of new things with you.”

  His mouth curves, and he leans down to reward me with a deep, unhurried kiss. I feel his body swiveling slightly as our lips and tongues tangle. He’s reached for something on the cart. I’m not sure what it is until he brings it up to our joined mouths and I inhale its sweet fragrance.

  He draws back, placing the strawberry between my lips. I bite down, moaning as flavor explodes on my tongue. After I chew and swallow the succulent fruit, Nick follows it up with a dollop of cream on the end of his finger.

  I wrap my lips around the tip, our eyes locked as I suck him into my mouth and lick the cream away. Now he’s the one breathing heavily and moaning, his body growing tense and rigid as I swirl my tongue over the tip of his finger, then suck it hard inside my mouth.

  On a low snarl, he pulls free, only to grasp my face in both hands and hold my head steady as his mouth descends on mine. He licks past my lips, his kiss hungered, scorching.

  “I love the taste of cream on your tongue,” he rasps. “I loved watching you wrap this pretty mouth around my cock in the office the other day. Makes me so fucking hard to think about you sucking me dry like that.”

  I’m already half mad with need for him, but hearing his desire-roughened voice, hearing him describe the things we’ve done together, makes my arousal almost unbearable. But he’s not ready to show me any relief just yet.

  He draws back from me, a merciless glimmer in his eyes. “Open your mouth for me, baby. Tip your head back a little. That’s it. Now let me see that pretty pink tongue.”

  I obey him, waiting with my hands secured behind me and my face tilted up to him like a supplicant at the altar. I hold my tongue out, watching as he lifts a small ladle of chocolate sauce and holds it an inch or two above my head. He pours it slowly, watching as I lap at the thick, rich stream, swallowing it down, sip after delicious sip.

  It’s difficult to catch every drop. Some of it dribbles onto my lips, onto my chin. Nick doesn’t give me the chance to lick it up. He descends on me, kissing me deeply, his tongue erasing every errant drop.

  I moan his name, unable to keep from shifting on my chair as my core floods with heat and longing. I want to reach for him, but the pearls restrict all but the most careful movement. My precious bonds are both a frustration and a titillation.

  I’m panting when he breaks our kiss. My body feels electrified and throbbing with the need for relief. I can’t hold back my hopeful sigh when he reaches down to unfasten the tie at my waist, the only thing holding my simple wrap dress together. The garment loosens, and Nick sweeps the black fabric off my shoulders, baring my chest and torso.

  “You wore the new bra for me,” he says, approval deep and dark in his thickened voice.

  I can’t curb my smile. I’ve got another surprise for him, but since he’s taking so much pleasure tormenting me, I decide to keep the secret to myself for now.

  He pets my breasts for a moment, clearly delighting in the way my nipples rise under his touch. Every nerve ending in my body belongs to him. Just as every gasp and sigh and pleasured sound I make is only for him too.

  He removes my bra, unfastening the delicate front clasp and sliding the slackened straps down my biceps before his hands come back to me to knead and caress my naked breasts. He kisses my nipples, teasing them with his tongue and teeth until I’m writhing, desperate with stimulation.

  Then he reaches for the ladle and scoops up another serving of chocolate sauce. His gaze scorching, he slowly pours the chocolate over my exposed breasts. Thin rivulets fall onto my skin, making my core tighten in reflexive response. I can hardly bear the erotic sensation of the warm spurts of chocolate raining down onto the swells of my flesh and the valley between them. He drizzles more onto the pebbled buds of my nipples, and I can see from the strained look on his handsome face that I’m not the only one being tormented and teetering at the edge of madn
ess.

  On a coarsely voiced curse, he sets the ladle aside and drops to his haunches to eat the chocolate off me. Licking, sucking, nipping with his teeth, he leaves me shuddering with desire.

  “Not fair,” I say when he draws away from me and rises to his feet. I shake my head. “I want to taste you too.”

  He doesn’t argue. From the look on his face, I’m not sure he’d have the will to try.

  Unfastening his belt and pants, he pushes the tailored trousers and boxer briefs down his muscled thighs, then hastily removes his shirt. His cock stands hard and heavy in front of my face, more tempting than any of the succulent treats I’ve had tonight.

  I lean forward, greedy for him, yet determined to take my time. I tease the soft, broad head with the tip of my tongue, then trace the veined underside of his shaft in a long, slow sweep. When I finally work my way back up and take him fully into my mouth, Nick’s curse is little more than a strangled groan from the bottom of his throat.

  Gripping the edge of the table, he drops his head back for a moment, tendons jumping in the sides of his neck. I continue my unrushed exploration of his cock and balls, knowing it’s got to be driving him beyond insane that he can’t order me to put my hands on him now too.

  His fingers spear into my unbound hair, fisting and flexing as I suck him deep into my mouth and tighten my cheeks around him, all the while holding his dark, hooded gaze.

  Then he frees his hold on my hair, my name a harsh gasp as he reaches behind him for something on the table. The red silk runner. His eyes blaze with wicked intent as he brings the sash around in front of him, dangling the fringed edge of it over my bare shoulders.

  Stroking the side of my face, he gently draws me away from his erect cock.

  There is a question in his glittering eyes. I answer by holding still, allowing him to tie the silk around my head like a blindfold.

  “You’re not finished with dessert yet,” he tells me, his voice my only anchor in my new molten-hued world.

  I hear him move, followed by the soft clink of a spoon against a bowl. His fingers alight gently below my chin, guiding my mouth back to his cock and to whatever additional treat he intends to gift me with now. I know in that instant, when something sweet and sticky meets my tongue as I lick the crown of his penis.

  Honey.

  It slides down the sides of his thick shaft and I chase it with my tongue, with my lips, savoring the taste of him even more than the nectar that now coats his smooth, steely flesh.

  “Mm,” I hum as I lap and suckle my way along every hard inch of him. “Now you’ve got me craving cream.”

  His answering curse is profane, highly erotic. “I’m going to give you some, baby. Right after I sample the cream I’m craving.”

  He crouches down in front of me and roughly lifts my skirt. I hear his sharp inhalation when he finds me bare beneath my dress. Bare and drenched and quivering for him.

  “Jesus Christ. Your pussy’s been naked and waiting for me this whole time.” It hardly sounds like a complaint.

  I can’t see his face, but I’m pretty sure his gaze is beyond fevered now. “If I had told you, we never would’ve made it past the champagne.”

  “Baby, if you had told me, we never would’ve made it into the car.”

  He goes down on me without warning, pushing my thighs apart and burying his face in my sex. I have no hope of staving off the orgasm that’s been on the verge of breaking ever since we began indulging in our decadent dessert. With his palms holding me aloft in my chair and keeping me steady against his wicked mouth, Nick makes me come in what seems like seconds.

  I shudder against his tongue, pleasure arcing through me in wave after glorious wave.

  I am boneless, still spiraling through my climax as he carefully lifts me from the chair, mindful of the pearls that still bind my hands behind my back.

  With my blindfold in place, I have no choice but to surrender to him completely as he bends me over the table and spreads me open. I hear the soft rustle of the condom packet he retrieves from his pants pocket, and then I feel Nick’s heat against me as he guides his cock to my body’s entrance and pushes inside on a long, slow thrust.

  “I want you to come for me again,” he demands harshly. “I want to hear you scream for me.”

  And in those next moments, as he roars and bucks with the onslaught of a staggering release, I tumble over the edge with him, his name torn from my throat like a prayer.

  I can’t deny him. My body and my will are both at his mercy.

  And so is my heart.

  Chapter 11

  I am sore in all the right places as I step out of the shower the next morning and towel off in the large master bathroom of the penthouse.

  Nick is ahead of me by nearly an hour. His towel is damp on the heated chrome rack mounted on the wall where I now hang mine, and I can hear him talking to someone on Bluetooth as I slip into short silk kimono robe, then proceed to finger-comb and dry my hair. My makeup takes all of five minutes since I’m only going to the studio to work today and anything more than mascara and a little color on my lips is overkill around Lita and Matt.

  I pad out of the bedroom barefoot and find Nick in the kitchen. “You let me oversleep.”

  “I thought you might appreciate the extra rest this morning.”

  To my surprise, I see that not only is he already dressed for his day in a pearl gray shirt and black slacks, he has also had time to make breakfast. As I approach, he puts a fluffy poached egg on a bed of crab meat, tomato, and spinach, then spoons some creamy yellow hollandaise over the whole thing.

  “Hungry?”

  “I shouldn’t be. But for one of your famous Benedicts? Always.”

  He arches a dark brow. “I felt the need to reestablish my dominance in the kitchen after that meal Gavin put on for us last night. I don’t want you thinking about any other man today.”

  “Dinner was incredible,” I admit. “But my body only knows one master.” I go up onto my toes to kiss his sexy mouth. “My stomach—and the rest of me—is all yours.”

  He plates another serving and we carry our dishes to the table where he’s already laid out place settings for us. I get coffee for both of us while he pours two glasses of juice. It’s all very domestic and natural, and I can’t deny the feeling of contentment that sweeps over me as we sit together and have breakfast like any other normal couple.

  I can’t deny how natural it feels to be with Nick, no matter what we’re doing. Whether that’s light bondage and food play or getting ready to start our daily routines together the morning after.

  We settle into an easy rhythm at the table, enjoying our coffee and breakfast and making plans for the rest of the week. Nick’s phone chimes repeatedly with incoming texts and phone calls, all of which he pointedly ignores.

  “Shouldn’t you answer?” I ask him over the rim of my coffee cup after we’ve both finished the last of our breakfast. “From what I’ve gathered, morning in this city doesn’t officially start until Dominic Baine says so.”

  He gives me a wry smirk. “Careful, or you’ll inflate my ego.”

  “I enjoy inflating your ego.” I lick my lips, grinning now. “Along with other things.”

  He makes a low noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment I’m not sure if the dark, sensual glimmer in his eyes is a warning or a promise. Then he sets his napkin down beside his empty plate and gets up from the table.

  I hold my breath as he walks over to me.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Visions of last night send streaks of desire racing into my veins. I glance back at him when he moves behind me in untenable silence.

  “Close them, Avery.”

  My lids drop and I wait, uncertain of his intentions and far too easily aroused by just the thought of what he might have in mind for me now.

  Something silky brushes my cheek.

  He’s tying something loosely around my neck from behind me. Then . . . something cold and metallic
settles between my naked breasts.

  I look down and find a key on the end of a long red silk cord.

  I recognize the key immediately. It was the same one he used to open the door of the building last night.

  “Nick, what—” I pivot around to gape at him. “What is this?”

  “A gift.” He reaches down, touching the key that rests against my skin. “Your new private art studio.”

  My own studio? I’m so incredulous, for a moment I can’t speak. “You said you were thinking of buying the building. You meant buying it . . . for me? That’s why you brought me there last night?”

  He slowly shakes his head, sliding his palm around to my nape. I sigh against the warmth and comfort of his touch. “I also wanted to celebrate with you, like I said. So call it multitasking.”

  His smile is so full of pride and affection, I feel light-headed as I stare up at him. “Nick, you shouldn’t have done this. I mean it.”

  “The building is a solid investment. Besides, there’s no reason for you to spend your own money on shared space all the way across town when you can have your own private studio just five minutes from here.”

  I glance down at the key, astonished that he would do something so generous. Then again, I shouldn’t be shocked. Nick may have earned a reputation as a cold, shrewd businessman—a heartless player in commerce and in life—but he’s never been that with me. Not with the people I care about either. He stepped in with Vendange when Tasha needed help. He’s even been pressing me lately to let him help with my mother’s situation.

  He has given me more kindnesses than I can ever hope to repay.

  But that’s not the entire reason I am hesitant now.

  As much as I’ve dreamed of one day having my own space in which to work, I’ve never wanted the dream handed to me. My art is my own. It’s always been the one thing that’s belonged solely to me. My outlet. My haven.

  The place I go when there is nowhere else I feel safe or understood.