Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (17 page)

Read Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) Online

Authors: Ava Claire

Tags: #Alpha Male, #billionaire, #bdsm erotic romance, #alpha male romance, #bdsm romance, #billionaire romance

BOOK: Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve)
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"Dancing's always a good idea." He rose to his feet, drawing more than a couple of female eyes as he walked to my side and extended his hand. "You're too beautiful to sit over here on pins and needles. Dance with me, Leila."

I glared at him, knowing there was no way I could turn him down with an audience. I slid off the chair begrudgingly and followed him to the floor.

The music changed tempo and Silvio pulled my body tight to his. I didn't have time to be nervous as he slowly began to rock into me.

"Just follow my lead."

And we were off. My dress whipped like flames as we weaved and turned and dipped in time with the music. There was nothing but the infectious rhythm and Silvio's throaty laugh as he whooped and commanded the floor. His long, ebony hair flapped and spun around his handsome face as he gyrated. He spread life and glee that rippled through the other dancers. Soon we were all moving with abandon and I spun even faster, laughing, smiling, living in the moment.

When the music slowed I took a breath, leaning against him as we gave the band a round of applause.

Silvio gave my hand a squeeze as he leaned in, his breathing labored. "Better?"

"Much better," I giggled. The music started back up, this time a slow, romantic coo. I held out my hands toward him.
What the hell. It's not like I had any other takers
. I had a feeling if Jacob was still in the restaurant he wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't ready to address what that meant. All I wanted to do was dance.

But Silvio wasn’t looking at me at all. He was looking just behind me. "I think the next dance is not for me."

"What?" I frowned. "But-"

"The next dance is mine."

Jacob's voice stripped me down to my bones and I went rigid. I told my body to turn, to put my arms around his neck. This was my chance. But I couldn't move.

Silvio stepped away and I snapped my mouth shut as I watched Jacob take Silvio’s place. No, in his charcoal two piece suit, it quickly became, “Silvio who?”

Jacob was the all-powerful, muscled, impossibly handsome man that reduced me to a puddle on the floor with just a look. There was no one but him.

"Leila." Even my name sounded like pure sex on his tongue.

I exhaled. "Jacob."

He held out his hands, bright eyes flashing. "Shall we?"

I hesitantly took his hand and took a step closer. I could tell he was still fuming from the tight set of his jaw.

"Should I call back tall, dark, and handsome?" he said bitingly.

I tried to relax and failed, completely and utterly. "I-I don't know what you mean."

His eyes narrowed to navy slits. "C'mon, Leila. You're practically cringing. Just a second ago, while you danced with that man, you were on top of the world."

“You were the one I wanted to dance with,” I said softly. “Only you.” I inhaled his warm, familiar scent. It was like sliding under my favorite blanket. Like going home. But right now all he had were the lies and me showing up with some strange guy. This was my chance to set the record straight, if I could just open my mouth.

I moved closer, sliding one hand up his tailored arm and trying to not take it personally when his mouth twitched disapprovingly when I ran my fingers through his hair.

"I didn't think you'd come," I said softly.

“Why did
you
come, Leila?”

His question caught me off guard, but the answer was simple. “Because I care about you.”

He let out something that sounded like a snort and shook his head.

“Don’t you dare dismiss my feelings, Jacob,” I said heatedly. “Not after all we’ve been through.”

"Well, when someone in my employ purposefully ignores my orders-"

"Your orders?" I snapped. "You mean sending me back to the States with my tail between my legs?"

He swept me around, his jaw as rigid and angry as his movements. "Don't try to play innocent. You met with Rachel behind my back-"

"I wouldn't really call being cornered and given an ultimatum a 'meeting'."

"And then you lied to me all day," he blazed on, ignoring my interjection. "You told me some sob story about your father." The hurt in his voice deepened. "You didn't even blink before you went along with her transparent efforts to drive a wedge between us."

"I
did
blink," I insisted. When he let out a grunt of disbelief and tilted his face from mine, I reached up and gently rotated his chin back toward me. "Don't turn away from me. Not when I came here to-"

"To make me jealous?" he said tersely. "I expected these kinds of games from Rachel. But not from you."

Being compared to her was like being slapped across the face. But I had to deflect the blow and explain myself. "The guy I was with, Silvio-"

"Silvio?" he said with a frown. "Of course his name is Silvio."

"And his last name is De Luca," I smirked. "Allegra's nephew."

"Allegra's nephew?" He digested it. "So you two aren't-"

"No," I replied. "He was just...moral support."

He visibly relaxed and when I brushed against him, chest to chest, he didn't pull back. I rocked against him, side to side, hopping that the feel of me could say the things that no words could do justice. My cheek was against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart weaving through the soulful music notes. The words were right there and his hand stroked my back, forgetting, forgiving, I never felt those words more.

I gazed up at him. "Jacob, I-"

"I'm sorry," Jacob cut in, soft as a kiss. “I overacted.”

I didn't know if his confession was a blessing—stopping me from making a declaration that I couldn't take back—or a curse that had me keeping the whole truth from him yet again.

"I shouldn't have dismissed you,” he continued. “Not in front of Rachel. She was all but rubbing her hands together with glee." When I made a face at the sound of her name, his eyes lit up with amusement. "But whatever half-baked plan she hatched isn't important right now."

Heat spread all over me, the epicenter his hand careening over the curve of my bottom.

"What's important right now is the fact that watching that man put his hands on you made me want to burn this building to the ground."

I pressed tighter against him, relishing his curve of lust beating in time with the uptick of the music. With his fingertips pressing into the scarlet fabric of my dress, every breath was husky as I rocked into him. What started off as romantic, longing moves became carnal.

"I never would have pegged you for a pyromaniac," I teased. "Or someone that gets jealous."

"I think I threw away the rulebook the day I met you," he said, stripping me with his eyes.

I ran my tongue over my lips, remembering his salty taste, remembering the emotion overload of going to bed with him. He was all-consuming and I wanted him to devour me until there wasn't a single inch left.

Our eyes met and I nearly squealed when I saw we were on the same page. My fingers held tight to his as we left the dance floor and made our way to the exit. Sight and sound became one as we stepped into the warm Mediterranean night.

He led me to a sleek, black limo where a man in a simple dark suit sat perched on the hood, smoking a cigarette. Even in the near dark I saw the man pale as he snuffed it out and snapped to attention.

"My apologies, Mr. Whitmore." He looked at me in surprise, probably remembering that Jacob went in with a very different woman. "We leave now?"

"Yes," Jacob replied smoothly. The driver opened the door and Jacob stepped to the side to let me pass. "After you, Miss Montgomery."

I gave him a sly grin, feeling his gaze on my rear end as I slid across the cool leather seats. Jacob moved in beside me and I waited with bated breath as the driver took his place behind the wheel and started the car.

Jacob reached over to a panel near the door and pressed a button that sent the partition up, putting a barrier between us and prying eyes.

I knew what he had planned and it sent sticky delight to the part of me that needed him just as much as my heart; the part of me that clenched and quivered when he beckoned me with a finger.

I licked my lips and the words flowed from me like honey. "How may I serve you?"

His eyes were hot with lust as he leaned back, but there was nothing sweet about the timbre of his voice when he replied.

"Get over here and lay across my lap."

****

I
knew it was only a matter of time before his slow, methodical strokes would intensify. What I wasn't prepared for was the thrill in the waiting. With each new rotation of him caressing each side, teasing me, I trembled with renewed anticipation.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” His hand trailed down and when it cycled back up, his fingertips carried up the hem of my dress. Each inch brought the warm night breeze to my skin. I wanted him to spank me. To punish me. Jesus, I never thought I’d voluntarily lay there and wait for someone to wail on me, but I’d never wanted anything more than this. I wanted him to take me to a place where everything, even pain, faded. A place where there was only us.

He gripped one of my cheeks, kneading and pumping it. “You deserve to be punished, don’t you?” He tightened his hold when I didn’t answer. “Answer me, Leila!”

“Yes,” It came out as a whine. A plea. “Yes sir.”
Punish me, Jacob.

“When I saw the way you were moving with that man—gyrating, laughing, pressing your body against his—I wanted to drag you from the room. After decking him, of course.” He added.

Regret flared at the thought of that. It would have caused quite a scene, but the idea of him punching out someone over jealousy made me shiver with delight.

“I wanted to take you home and strap you to the cross.” His finger trailed down the seam of my thong, stopping at my pulsing core. “I wanted to flog you until you screamed my name.”

I imagined the fear, the pain, and the perverse pleasure. It made me squirm as he rubbed my heat through the thin fabric. “But I can’t wait until we get home, Leila.” His voice was rough. Rife with lust. “I want to punish you now.”

He stopped stroking and it took all my self-control to not beg him for more. Before I submitted, I would have tried to get my point across in blatant ways. Throaty moans. Rocking my hips. But I trusted that he knew exactly what I needed—and that it wouldn’t come so easy. Not tonight.

“You will count out every strike,” he commanded. “Every. Last. One.”

His hand came down on my bottom and the crack echoed over me. It brought more surprise than pain.

“One,” I said breathlessly. “Two.”

The second landed over the first. The third expanded the warm discomfort. Fifth, sixth made me grit my teeth.

I gripped his calves as I hung suspended across his lap, swallowing the tears that burned my eyes as he blazed through the teens. My bottom became a screeching nerve, exposed, feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

Just when I reached that point, the top of it where the pain would become something savage, the licks stopped.

The cool touch of his fingers combined with a warm, tingling sensation and I couldn’t stop the giggle from falling from my lips. He traveled around with the special cream?

“Always prepared, huh?”

“I was a boy scout,” he joked. He took care of me, rubbing the lotion into my skin gently, its menthol properties cooling the heat from the spanking. “Are you okay to sit?”

“Yes.” Naturally, I clamored off his knees as ungracefully as humanely possible, but when I caught a glimpse of the look on his face, I didn’t see bemusement. He was looking at me with awe. Like he was seeing me for the first time.

“You know,” he said finally, “When you walked out of the restaurant at lunch, I wanted to go after you.”

I righted myself, tucking wayward curls behind my ear. “You did?” I turned to him. “Why didn’t you?”

He glanced out his window for what felt like a lifetime before turning back to me. “Because I’d have to admit that learning that you lied to me was devastating. That it hollowed me out.” His eyes held mine intently. “I’d have to admit that I let you in...and let you get closer than anyone before.”

Guilt crept back in and I broke away. How could I look him in the eye after that? “You let me in and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Jacob. I had this long list of reasons why, good reasons I thought. But reasons are just excuses. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” His tone deepened to an authoritative command. “How about you look at me and say it.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat and raised my chin. Eye to eye. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Jacob.”

He watched my lips form the words then licked his own, sparking the lust in me that took so little to ignite when it came to him.

“How about you show me how sorry you are?”

My lips curved into a smile that turned into an ‘o’ of surprise when my eyes dropped to his crotch. I saw the imprint of his arousal, hard and insistent. We’d been together more than once but the rush of pride remained the same. I had the ability to make the most beautiful man I’d ever seen swell with need.

I slid onto the floor, grateful for the extra room the limo afforded me. I immediately moved to unbuckle his pants, trying to peel back the layers that created a barrier between us.

I uncoiled his length from his boxer briefs, eyes glossing over every thick, veiny inch of him. I guided my lips around him, breathing in as I moved up and down his shaft. Every new stride brought a new moan of delight from him and I vibrated on a whole other level. It was probably cliché and the last thing I’d ever expect to so believe was possible, but he awakened things in me. He brought me to life and feeling his muscles clench, his grip tighten in my hair, sent wave after wave of pleasure coursing through me. His pleasure, his delight at my hand, made me want to give him all of me until we were both completely and utterly spent.

I ran my tongue over ever hardened piece of him. I bobbed up and down on the alternations of him tensing and relaxing, his hoarse groans melting into ‘Don’t stop’. ‘More’.

I brought my hand to the base of his erection, running a finger along the seam of his balls. A cry of delight shot from his mouth like a bullet. I softly massaged his balls with my hand and picked up the rhythm with my mouth. I melted against him, breathing nothing but the sounds he made.

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