The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive, Part Seven) (4 page)

BOOK: The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive, Part Seven)
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My uncanny ability to screw up the best thing in my life?
“What’s that?”

“From here, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone as amazing as you.” He moved back in, like he couldn’t bear to be apart from me. “I never thought I’d find someone like you. Feisty. Stubborn. So full of love and compassion. I never thought I deserved to find my soul mate. But I found you. And if you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to try harder.”

He was near enough that I could see the desire heating his cool gaze. Close enough that I knew every beautiful inch of him was hardened for me.

“So even if I did this--” I slid my hand inside the front of the cotton pants that hung low on his hips, his downy masculine hair making a delicious trail toward his erect cock. I gripped him tight, sliding my tongue over my lip
. “--you’d still keep me around? Even though it’s a blatant disregard of my training and your rules?”

He slowly rolled his hips, drawing his length in then out of the hole I created with my fist. He was already leaking desire from the tip, coating my palm.

“Get rid of you?” He let out a shuddering sigh. “Absolutely not. If anything, the dominant in me would realize that you need a refresher course.”

My lips trembled as my own desire wet the crotch of my panties, heat firing like pistons all over. “And if I decide I just want a taste--” I lowered myself to my knees, my eyes never leaving his as I brought his swell from behind the fabric. I ran a finger around the head of his cock, watching the way his mouth twitched, the way his muscles tightened as he tried t
o restrain himself. When a moan--low and barely audible--fell from his lips, I broke eye contact and leaned forward, taking the tip in my mouth. Suckling his sticky sweet nectar.

My tongue ran around the mushroom head, over its contours, dancing into the slit then holding, sucking, anticipating the delicious lick of pain when he’d take the control back. Punish me. God, I must have been a mad woman egging him on, not knowing what discipline was in store. But that was the fun part. Not knowing.

Just as I started taking more of him in, he gripped my hair, stopping me.

“You like being bad, don’t you?” he said
huskily. “Making me punish you?”

“Yes sir,” I said breathlessly.

His touch slackened and something softer raced across his face. “It’s been too long since we’ve indulged, Leila. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Absolutely.” I wanted to submit to him. I wanted to give him control. I wanted to give him all of me.

His eyes smoldered. “Strip. I want you naked, on your knees, hands behind your back.”

****

 

If I'd blushed standing just inside, with the doors open and the off chance that someone caught a glimpse after our tryst on the dining room table, every bared inch of me was red as I knelt before him now. Before, it could have been explained away. A trick of the light. But there was no mistaking the fact that I did
n't have on a shred of clothing with me kneeling butt naked on the balcony.

"How do you feel?"

"Naked," I quipped. My joke was lost on him, his eyes slivers of cobalt blue. "Exposed."

"I know you, Leila." He crossed his arms. "Exposed is lazy. I want you to tell me how being naked in plain view of the condominiums across the street makes you feel."

I let his request ripple over me as the same word remained on my tongue. I was exposed. The crisp breeze was a reminder of my nakedness, caressing my warm skin. I felt my arousal licking my inner thigh and I was very aware of my untamed, greasy locks spilling past my shoulders. The wind swept brown curls back and forth across the curve of my breasts. But it was the chance that I’d be seen that dominated my thoughts. I imagined a man or a woman having a lazy cup of coffee on their balcony and seeing my nakedness. It made me hunch over, trying to make myself smaller. Invisible.

"I don't want them to see me like this," I murmured, my face on fire.

"To see you like what?" he probed.

I nibbled my lip, wincing a little as my knee cut through the woven rug to the concrete below. "To see me naked."
Exposed
, I thought rebelliously.

"And why is that?"

I glared up at him and his cool gaze drank it up. He really did miss the power play. Taking me out of my comfort zone. Showing me who was really in charge.

"Because I'm sure if they had their druthers, I'd be the last person on Earth they'd want to see naked."

The sparkle of mischief was snuffed out, replaced by disappointment. "I thought we were past this, Lay."

I gasped as my nickname flowed from his lips. It had never been my favorite; just some offhand thing my mother called me until it stuck. But he turned a single syllable into something beautiful. Something erotic. Looking up at him, seeing the way his eyes caressed my nudity, I tried to see what he saw. But I just felt naked.

“You want to know what I think?”

I nodded.

"I think you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

I brought my lids down, not wanting him to see my complete and utter disbelief. I didn't doubt that he was attracted to me, that he wanted me, but the whys were hard
to accept or believe.

He c
ame forward, hooking my chin then tipping it up.

"Everything about you is sexy," he said smoothly. "The way your curls bob in the wind before crashing around your delicious curves."

I hitched a breath, the moan trapped in my throat as he brought his hand from my chin, dragging a single finger down my chilled flesh and making a wide circle around my areola. Even though he was several inches away from my nipples, they hardened to rocks.

His hand spread over my abdomen. "You have a lover's body. The kind of body songs were written about. That wars were waged over."

I held my breath, feeling how close he was to going deeper. To sinking his fingers inside me.

Instead, he rose up to his full height, the hand that should have been indulging in my heat gesturing at the wicker chair. "I want you to have a seat--" He waited until I blinked up at him before he finished. "--and then I want you to touch yourself."

My eyes bulged, his command drawing me from the haze of lust, back into the uncomfortable arms of self-consciousness. "T-Touch...you want me to finger myself? Out here?"

His voice sharpened. "I know it's been awhile, but I can assure you I'm still no fan of repeating myself."  When I continued to stare, hesitation gluing me to the rug, he came forward, yanking me to my feet.

He spun me around, so my back was against his chest and his erection made itself known. We could have been in the clutches of summer in the city, the sun pounding down on us if the desire heating me was any indication. When his lips brushed my ear, my inner core pulsed in time with my heart.

"Do you need motivation?"

A spanking? The very thought of it nearly made me come. It really had been too long--I wanted to prolong this...hold onto these conflicting emotions of wanting more and wanting to stop. Of wanting to bend over, ass in the air and wanting to run for cover.

I found my voice and it was almost unrecognizable. Sultry. Longing. "No sir."

I moved forward, slowly lowering myself onto the cushion of the armchair, bringing my trembling legs up until I felt the ottoman beneath them. I was sitting in a pike position, hands on my thighs, my limbs locked and apprehensive. I made the mistake and looked out, the knots in my stomach multiplying as I saw the countless windows in the building across the street.

All those windows. All of those eyes on me. The rational part of me said they’d
need a telescope, binoculars or an unhealthy curiosity to see anything remotely scandalous. Like my thighs spread and my fingers knuckle deep while a fully clothed man looked on. It was...I was...I squeezed my thighs together and crossed my arms against my breasts. A new word came to mind:
Humiliated
.

“Jacob, maybe if we went inside--”

“No.” His voice darkened, blotting out any misconceptions of a choice in the matter. “You will do this, Leila. Because you’re beautiful. Sexy. Desirable as hell.” He picked up his mug and brought it to his lips. When he was finished, his expression was strict and impassive. “You will do this because I commanded it and you are
mine
.”

There was something in his voice that unraveled my nerves, enslaving me to his will. It was more than the fact that he was looking at me l
ike I was the most delicious kind of sin--it was the fact that somehow, I was starting to feel different.

I looked down at my skin, the same skin I thought was getting too pale an
d starving for sun. It was golden and supple, the light dancing on it, making it shine. I ran my hand through my curls, the softness and bounce like heaven to touch. I leaned back, the slight recline of the chair built for the contours of my body. I was stark naked, wet as hell and I didn’t feel gangly or exposed. I felt like sex. And I wanted to touch myself.

I cut my eyes up to him as I spread my thighs, both hands at my knees. A smile didn’t dare approach his lips, but I saw it in the blue as I drew my fingertips down the V of my thighs. I went
slow, taking my time because I knew it wouldn’t take much to release me. Not when I was in his aqua embrace. Not when I was listening to my true erotic nature.

I drew a sharp breath when my fingers brushed my moist entrance. I spread myself wide, feeling the caress of air against the cool desire that turned me molten. One hand opened my intimate folds and the other paused at the slit, waiting, watching the smile in his eyes become unbridled lust.

I pushed the finger deep and my heat fluttered around the digit. I forgot about eye fucking Jacob because I was so wet. So hungry for this. Hungry for more.

I bucked my hips as my shallow thrusts stroked my inner walls, my rhythm building until I tossed my head back and forth from the overwhelming pleasure. I knew he was watching and it made me wild.

When I glanced over at him, I gasped when I saw he’d moved closer. He was close enough that I was eye level with his crotch and saw he was more than enjoying my submission.

Every bit of me was tingling, aching, begging as I continued my assault, not letting up because I knew how close I was. How clos
e he was. When he tilted my chin up, I flicked my thumb across my nub of erotic nerves and pleasure shouted all over me, building to a screeching frenzy. When his mouth claimed mine, his tongue sliding between my lips, I knew I was through.

I was coming.

His kiss deepened as I kept pumping. I was all senses and longing, the bliss too much and at the same time, nowhere near enough. When my lips went slack, he rounded out his kiss until he was just stroking my lips with his, like he couldn’t get his fill of the way I tasted. Like he wanted every last bit of me, letting nothing go to waste.

He pulled back, his gaze locked on me. “How do you feel?”

I shifted, but not to cover myself. I turned into the sun, closing my eyes as its warmth caressed my naked skin.

“I feel sexy.”

****

 

I stepped inside the corner coffee shop, getting high off espresso just walking through the door. Even though the decor was the picture of sophistication--dark hardwood floors and modern furniture that was nice to look at--it didn’t inspire comfort. They charged three times as much for a latte because the shop was flanked by swanky apartment buildings and condominiums. One came to this place for coffee with a side of arrogance.

Case in point was the poor soul in front of me that dared to ask for extra chocolate in his mocha and the barista glared at him like he was lost. The only reason I picked this shop instead of flagging a cab and heading down to my favorite haunt was because I just wanted to grab a couple of muffins and a matcha green tea latte and head back to the apartment
. All I wanted was to curl up in a chair on the balcony and steal looks at Jacob until I could convince him that I needed more ‘discipline’.

I shivered with longing, biting my lip. Nothing compared to the way he made me feel. It was frightening to come to terms with the fact that I was so close to losing the only man that loved the real me. The me I hid away from everyone. The me he’d seen that day in the lobby, feisty and sexy and curious. I could never show him how much it meant to me that he loved me despite my flaws.

I sniffled, blinking back the emotion. All this lovey doveyness was turning me into a bundle of mushy gushy. When I saw the impatient set of the barista’s jaw, it helped steady me. Still, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I ordered a breve for myself and a green tea latte for Jacob. When she all but snatched my debit card then looked right through me to the next customer, I barely noticed, turning, almost whistling until I saw him—and choked on my happiness.

It was hard to believe that once upon a time the sight of him mad
e sparks ripple across my skin. Back then I wouldn’t be able to get rid of my grin, even with the jaws of life. I’d hold it until I stepped out of the dark, so tempted to rush back to the ticket booth so I could experience it all over again. Now, the very sight of Cade Wallace made me sick to my stomach.

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