Everything He Wants: Claimed by The Billionaire (5 page)

                                                                         ***

     Laila knocked on the bedroom door, clad in a sheer silk robe and underneath red lace lingerie that she was certain would make Roderick react as strongly as she had upon trying it on. The lace and silk seemed to caress her body and she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world, though she had dressed nervously. She didn't lack confidence in the other facets of her life but she'd only had only one real boyfriend and she suspected that a man like Roderick Channing had been with women far more experienced than she.

    
Yet he was her husband now and even if he didn't feel the same way she did, she couldn't very well assume that he wouldn't want a sexual relationship as part of their deal, could she? He was a handsome, virile man. A man with needs. A man she also wanted to make love to her. But a man who wasn't answering his door.

    
After knocking on the door soundly one last time and receiving no answer, she turned the handle and entered. His huge king size bed, chaise lounge met her gaze. She peeked in the enormous, ultra modern bathroom with gold accents. There was no sign of her husband in the palatial bathtub or shower. Finally, she spied a folded note with her name emblazoned on it, perched on the vintage bureau.

Laila,

Had a business emergency. My apologies. Will call you from the plane.

R

    This was not
how
Laila had envisioned her wedding night. Even for a marriage of convenience. But there was absolutely nothing that she could do.

    
Two
nights later, Laila sat dining alone. The fine china, linens and crystal adorned the table. But she had barely touched her tomato salad or coq au vin, which tasted fabulous. She missed Roderick fiercely and hadn’t spoken to him since he had called her from his jet. He assured her that he would return as soon as possible but the evening had arrived with no sign of her husband. She was extremely disappointed and didn't bother to hide it.

    
She rose from the table and headed to check on Sarah, who had a new nurse, Magda. After determining that her mother in law was resting comfortably, she decided to take a hot bath. She settled into the steamy water, closing her eyes. Soon the tears came, to her chagrin. She was in love with a man who didn't return her intense feelings.
Could she really hold up her end of the bargain
?

    
An hour later, her emotions still raw, she lathered pear -scented lotion over her body, then wrapped in a delicate robe.

    
Just as she exited the bathroom, she heard Roderick enter the bedroom.

    
"Roderick!" She felt her heart leap.

    
Roderick took in his bride's tear stained face. His visage became grim.

    
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?

    
"It's nothing, I'm fine. I trust that your trip went well?"

     
"It did. But I don't want to discuss business. Has something happened?

      
Other than me being madly in love with you?
, she thought.

       Instead Laila
replied,” No. I don't mean to alarm you. I'm fine. Really."

      
She smiled weakly. Roderick crossed the floor to her, examining her face closely.

       
How he had missed her, imagined what he would say when he saw her again. Now he just wanted to take her in his arms, protect her, love her.

      
"You are so beautiful," Roderick said, drinking in the sight of her, clad in the nearly sheer robe.

       
Her full breasts, curvaceous hips, narrow waist. He was already hard. More than anything, he wanted to strip off their clothes and then consummate their marriage. Multiple times.

      
He parted her lips, kissing her with a passion he heretofore didn’t know existed, her lips quickly yielding to him. Then she was kissing him back and as his body melded with hers, he felt her damp warmth. He kissed her roughly, throwing open her robe, eyeing her breasts, the firm nipples begging for his touch. His fingers roughly traced first one then the other before moving to the silky triangle at the top of her thighs. He slipped his finger inside her. She was so wet, her desire wholly evident. He felt like he would explode if he didn't make love to her, immediately. She began to tear off his shirt and pants, feverishly, wanting the same thing he did. Soon nothing separated them and he carried her to the bed. His finger returned to her wetness, her puissant folds lathing his fingers as sparks of desire shot through her. Her hips arched in expectation, inviting him into her heat, wanting to feel his pulsing sex. Her legs wrapped around his back of their own accord. He was just as an insistent on giving her what they both needed, of hearing her call his name again and again as he branded her as his, when an insistent knock at the door began. It continued on undaunted, finally breaching his desire addled brain.

    
Throwing his pants back on, he stormed to the door, highly agitated. He threw open the door, his face fixed in a scowl at the appearance of his butler, Thomas.

    
"What is it?" he asked none too kindly.

    
"I apologize for the intrusion, Sir. But it's your mother. She's asking for you. Please hurry."

      
Roderick, quickly joined by Laila, sped to his mother's room.

                                                    ***

    
Soon after their arrival, Sarah had passed away, her eyes alighting at one last sight of her son, before she slipped away.

    
Roderick spared no expense for the "homegoing service"-in accordance with her Southern upbringing. The church was filled to capacity on the early winter day a week after Sarah's death. Roderick was racked with grief over the loss of his dear mother, work his only solace. He worked far into the night and by the time he came to bed, Laila was usually sound asleep, after yet another night of waiting for him in vain.

Chapter 8

Six months later

    
Laila
had grown tired of pretending. That she wasn't in love. That she didn't want a real husband rather than her constantly absent one. She wanted to comfort him. But when she attempted, Roderick rebuffed her. And any day she expected him to release her from their contract, now that his mother was gone.

   
She couldn't take it, the expectation of her dismissal from his life. So she withdrew all of the money he had given her and had obtained a cashier’s check in the amount that he had given her. She couldn't keep Roderick's money. If it were to be over, then it would be best to sever all ties.

   
Her bags were packed, seated by the large oak door as she prepared to call Roderick's driver. She cast one last glance around the bedroom then strode to the door, which opened just then.

   
Roderick first spied the suitcases, then Laila's staid expression, finally the envelope on the vanity.

   
"Going somewhere?"

   
"I am."

    "W
here exactly are you going?"

   
"I'm leaving Whidham Bay. I'm leaving you, Roderick."

    
Leaving?
Roderick felt like a cannon had just been fired into his chest. He repeated his wife.

    
"Leaving? And why is that, Laila?"

   
"I can't do this anymore. I just can't. You're always gone, never here. It seems as if you don't need me anymore and I don't want to be a bother. Obviously, I've overstayed my welcome and it's best that I go."

   
"Is it?" he queried, evenly.

   
"Yes." She crossed to the mahogany hued vanity to retrieve the envelope. “Here is a cashier’s check in the full amount of the funds you have deposited since we married. It's all there. I think it's better that I return the funds, although I appreciate your generosity."

   
"I don't want the money, nor do I need it. Why are you really leaving, what are you running from? I know that I've been preoccupied, with thoughts of mother, work but..."

   
"I understand. Believe me, I do. But you never talk to me. It's as if I don't exist. I can't help you, comfort you. I feel helpless and I keep expecting that any day you'll tell me that it's over. Our contract, our marriage. Everything. I can't bear the uncertainty. Perhaps it's not me that you want. Or need. And then there's Summer"...she trailed off, hurt by the thought of her husband in the arms of his very attractive assistant.

   
"Ms. Emerson? Summer? No. Why she's engaged to Rhys Barrett, the financier. I've never thought of dating an employee. Of breaking that rule, until you. I'd break every rule for you, cherie."

   
Roderick assured her,

  
"I'm sorry if it seems that I didn't care or that you weren't a priority. I shouldn't have pushed you away. Taken you for granted. I love you, Laila. So much so that I can't imagine my life without you in it. That is why I made you my wife. You've ruined me for any other woman. There's no one else that I could ever want. And if you're honest, I think that you feel the same way." The depth of emotion he saw reflected in Laila's brown eyes just then was unquestionable.

   
He pulled her to him, lifted her chin.

   
"Tell me you that don't feel the same way? That you don't think of me. Ache for me, love me," he finished throatily.

    
"If you can tell me that, then I'll be done. The way you seem to be done right now. But I won't have you leave until you tell me the truth."

     
Laila gazed into his molten eyes, her heart untethered. She couldn't deny him. Couldn't deny the love that was forever etched in her heart. The thought of leaving him physically hurt, her being indelibly marked by her all encompassing love for him.

    
"I do. I love you, Roderick. I just thought you, I thought you that didn't feel the same way."

    
"There was never any chance of that. I felt it from the first moment that I saw you. All that I am, is yours. I love you, Laila Channing, and now I'm going to show you just how much."

   
He claimed her mouth, taking possession as his tongue lead hers, consuming her as if starved by an insatiable need. A need that only she could fulfill. Laila's mouth welcomed his as she wound her fingers through his hair, drawing him in closer. As he laid her on the canopied bed, His mouth continued to rain kisses, descending the slope of her neck, to the delectable apex of her breasts. Slipping off her silken top then the lace demi, he paused, staring at the perfect rise of her full breasts.

   
"Bellissima."

    
Laila felt sexy, powerful, and so alive at that moment. She couldn't wait to receive more of this. More of him. It had been too long already. His touch felt vital, as if it were the very air she needed to breath.

   
He caressed her taut nipples, feasting with his tongue, then gently biting one then the other. She moaned in ecstasy at the pleasure and slight pain. His tongue became velvet, lapping licks down to her navel then beyond. Tearing off her wrap skirt, he felt her black lace panties with his thumb.

   
"Take them off," she begged, needing to be freed.

    
Roderick toyed with the lace, briefly teasing her as his thumb rubbed her petals then deeper to her moist core, her mound arched in anticipation.

    
He eased the covering down, his tongue lowering into her womanly center.

    
His eyes brimmed with passion, his body firmed by his mission. She felt the large bulge straining his pants and a shudder raced through her body, a primal want that only one man, her man, could fulfill.

   
“I have to taste you, “Roderick’s voice was thick with desire.

    
Placing her legs on his shoulders, he sucked her pink manicured toes, relishing each one before moving to her hot entrance. His head buried deep in her folds, licking her clit slowly, intently. His mouth sent flames of euphoria, her body vaulting as she lost control, with his tongue tracing her inner walls, stroking her pearl to the point of no return.

    
He was determined to make her know how much he loved her, wanted her, and had to have her. Claiming her, spoiling her for any other man. Ever. She cried out, reveling in the feel of his agile tongue, spasms rippling through her body in one climax then another, slivers of fire exploding from within.

    
She wanted to please him, just as much as he had pleased her. Rising, she pushed him beneath her, frantically removed his shirt then the barrier of his heavy buckle and pants, revealing that he wore no hindrance of undergarments.