Read CHAINED TO YOU: The Contract Online
Authors: Alexia Praks
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
CHAINED TO YOU: THE CONTRACT
A Novella
Alexia Praks
Copyright © 2015 by Alexia Praks
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.
No part of this book may be
reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic
form without agreement and written permission of the author. Please
do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials
in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized
editions.
The author can be reached
at:
www.alexiapraks.com
CHAINED TO YOU
Alexia Praks
Thank you for reading Chained to You: The
Contract. This is a prequel novella to the full length book Chained
to You, a Maxwell Brothers Series.
Join my
MAILING
LIST
to be notified of all my new releases.
You’re definitely worth two million, Mia.
I’d fuck you every night. Think about it. Two million. Five years.
Your brother will go free. It’s a contract.
These are the words of the gorgeous
billionaire James Maxwell, the man who makes my heart race and my
body tremble with longing. I want to refuse his proposal, but how
can I? My brother owes him two million, and as dirt poor as we are,
there’s no way we can find that much money to repay him. What’s
worse, I think I’m falling in love with the man who thinks I’m just
his mistress.
My name is Mia Donovan. I’m twenty-two,
working as kitchen hand to make ends meet, and my world is
changing—both for the better and worse. James Maxwell, a gorgeous
billionaire with beautiful Prussian blue eyes, is the man behind
this. He makes my heart flutter and my knees weak. When he kisses
me, my world melts into a pool of exotic sensation. But his world
is dark and dangerous, and being with him is a risk both to my life
and my sanity.
This is our story.
NOTE: This Novella is a prequel to the book
Chained to You, A Maxwell Brothers Series, that will be released
soon. It will also be included Chained to You when it is released,
so you can read it here first or you can read it as part of the
novel on release day.
My hands shook as I picked up the crimson
lipstick from the marble benchtop. I wasn’t really partial to such
a loud color. The bright, rouge shade made me feel uncomfortable.
It made me feel like I was laid bare on stage, the center of
attention, people leering at me, which I didn’t like. I was more of
a natural color type girl. Nude pink was my favorite, followed by a
peachy orange. These colors I would describe as both beautiful and
innocent. Yet I was neither beautiful nor innocent.
Touching the scarlet color to my lower lip,
I gazed at myself as my heart continued to beat too fast for my
liking. Within the mirror and staring back at me was a young woman
I barely recognized. Slim, oval face with high cheekbones, eyes the
color of walnuts with a hint of gold radiating around the rim of
the iris, straight but not prominent nose, and lips a little bit on
the plump side as the dominating feature, she was plain. Her hair
was a rich raven black that sometimes sparkled a hue of blue in the
brightness of the sun. She was of medium height and average build.
Overall, she wasn’t model material.
According to me, she wasn’t at all
beautiful. She was just another girl amongst the crowd. You
wouldn’t even notice her at all in the crowd. She was
that
invisible.
That
average. Yet she was noticed by James
Maxwell, a business multibillionaire with too much money to throw
around and too much power and influence.
I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths
to calm my nerves.
“Slow down.” The words shakily escaped my
colorless lips. “Just calm down. Everything is going to be
okay.”
Instead of alleviating the tremor within my
chest and along my throat, it was exacerbated. My stomach couldn’t
stop flipping either.
“Shit!” the profanity flew out of my mouth
before I could inhale another lungful of oxygen.
I dropped the lipstick in frustration and
raked my fingers through my curls. After a few more deep breaths,
inhaling and exhaling slowly, I managed to calm myself and raised
my face to the mirror once again.
Picking up the lipstick, I chanted,
“Everything is going to be all right, Mia. He’s going to like you
for what you’re going to offer him tonight. It’s his birthday.”
This was my redemption, I supposed, for
disobeying him. For rebelliously, cunningly, secretly, but stupidly
cutting my very long curls. He liked the length of my previous
tresses, which reached all the way down to my waist. He liked to
run his fingers through the soft strands. He liked it brushing and
caressing his naked skin as he made me ride him, his fully erect
shaft deep inside me.
I knew how much he adored my hair, yet I had
underhandedly cut it simply to spite him. I wanted to show him he
couldn’t really control all of me. I think a part of me had
secretly wanted to rile him up, to displease him just to see how
far he’d go. Well, I’d learned that the hard way, hadn’t I?
I finally managed to calm my nerves and
carefully applied the lipstick. After patting my lips with a
Kleenex and then reapplying for a matte finish, I stepped back and
noticed how red my lips were compared to my pale face. I very
nearly looked like a geisha with my black hair and milky white
skin. Except of course without the kimono.
I blinked, thinking of rubbing some of the
color off. With the sound of the clock ticking indicating another
minute had just past, however, I changed my mind. Instead, I turned
my attention to my attire.
Tonight I wore the pink lacey panties and
James’s favorite pale-blue work shirt. It was his favorite simply
because I’d worn it by accident after he’d finished having his way
with me for the third time that night three weeks ago. I’d wanted
to leave immediately and be in my own room. Not that I didn’t like
him ravishing me and having his hardened rod inside me; it was just
that I was exhausted and wanted to be by myself after the long
foreplay and hard, deep thrusting. I unthinkingly grabbed his shirt
and donned it for decency’s sake. After all, I hadn’t wanted to
walk naked across the hall of the mansion. My thin dress and
underwear had all been lovingly ripped to pieces. I hadn’t wanted
Ms. Lane, the housekeeper, to see me without a stitch of
clothing.
“Is my shirt your robe now?” he’d asked, his
dark brows rising mockingly.
I held my head high and said haughtily, “It
is.”
I didn’t even get to exit before he roughly
grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back onto the bed. A fourth
round of rough sex ensued, me with nothing on but his pale-blue
shirt as he thrust into me.
The thought of that night brought a
delicious shiver down my spine, and my core heated and tightened
knowingly.
Jesus!
I was turned on by just the memory. As if
it were calling to me, I glanced at the lacey panties and felt a
delicious twist of sensation coursing there.
That
particular type of panty was one
of the many he’d bought for me to wear on our nights of amour.
Lacey, see-through, and way too sexy compared to my normal briefs
I’d usually wear for comfort.
Apart from the shirt and panties, there was
nothing on me. That was how he liked me. Actually, no, he preferred
me without a stitch on and writhing beneath him as he devoured me.
The panties and his work shirt came next.
I left the shirt unbuttoned halfway, showing
a good portion of my chest and cleavage. After raking my fingers
through my bob a second time, I hurried out of the bathroom and
into the bedroom where James sat near the head of the bed,
patiently awaiting my return.
Oh, he knew I’d return. He knew I couldn’t
just leave him even if I tried. He knew I couldn’t leave him even
if I wanted to. I was chained to him—for another five years at the
least, until such time when the debt was all paid, to his
satisfaction of course.
Oddly enough, the sight of him now still
caused a shiver of trepidation along my spine. Perhaps it was
because of that first time he’d taken me that hadn’t gone the way
I’d imagined or hoped it would. What had I expected? A romantic
wooing? Slow first kiss? Gentle caressing? James wasn’t my
boyfriend. Perhaps it was because our relationship was so unlike
any others I’d known. To put it bluntly, I was simply his paramour.
I was nothing to him.
Nothing.
He cocked his head to one side as he watched
me, an amused smile playing on his lips. In his arms was Sammy, his
samoyed breed. He was stroking the dog now, slow and gentle but
firm. Just the way he caressed me.
Slow and gentle—firm.
My stomach flipped as he watched me. There
was something in his eyes that always affected me in the oddest
way. Now, like always, I felt lightheaded and just that little bit
breathless.
I came toward him and stopped a few feet
away. It looked like he was in no hurry to ravish me tonight. He
was still stroking Sammy and paid no heed to my attempt at
seduction. Well, I knew nothing of seduction, of course, and
standing here like a statue definitely didn’t count.
It eventually became awkward, and I
hesitated. I was about to turn back when he said, “Unbutton the
shirt.” His eyes were still on the canine as though he were talking
to it. “You know how much I like it with the buttons undone.”
In that short instant, my temper rose. I was
never good with people telling me what to do, particularly this
billionaire. I had to admit also that my temper had never been this
short before I’d met him either. Many told me I’d always been an
even-tempered girl, even during the storm of my adolescence
years.
I managed to calm down, reminding myself
that patronizing him would be no use, as it would only amuse him
further. He basked in the knowledge that his words managed to rile
me up and my face flamed red with what he called
a particular
radiance,
which he’d explained to me happened when
“I fuck
you long and slow.”
Refusing to think of those particular words,
I looked down at myself and then slowly undid the remaining four
buttons. Once done, I glanced up and saw James watching me. He was
always watching me as if he were fascinated by me.
He bent down and released the dog. Sammy
took the opportunity and ran to me, wagging his tail and sticking
his tongue out at me with adoration. I bent down to stroke the
furry animal—no doubt that particular billionaire opposite me was
enjoying a good view of my breasts as I did so. After I patted him
a couple more times, Sammy was finally satisfied and rushed with
his short legs to the opposite side of the room. He made himself
comfortable in his bed by the fireplace as I returned my undivided
attention to my patron.
“Come here,” the aforementioned patron
commanded softly.
My legs stiffened for a brief second and
then slowly moved in accordance to the demand. I came to stand
before him, between his knees. His gaze lazily drifted from my face
to my chest and then lower to my breasts. It was as if he were
caressing me with his eyes, slowly and intensely. I felt my nipples
engorged into tightened buds, so sensitive even my breaths became
short.
He gently fingered the material of the
shirt. I felt like he was stroking my skin, and my core twisted and
tensed with anticipation. I held my breath as he lightly brushed
his hand along the line of the frills of my panties. His fingers
trailed lower to the underside. There, he applied just that little
bit more pressure, allowing himself to feel the lips of my
pussy.
I gasped. My whole body trembled in response
to his light touches. He raised his head to look at me, his
Prussian blue eyes twinkling and a smile spread across his handsome
face.