Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel (17 page)

BOOK: Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel
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CHAPTER XXIII

Nicky

 

 

The thought of being collared like a four-legged pet does seem strange to me. Very strange. Especially if he will be the one who decides if and when the collar gets removed.

Then again, I hardly ever wear jewelry around my neck anyway. It wouldn't get in the way. And it would mean that I am his. That he is truly devoted to me.

I like the sound of that.

"That is nothing we have to talk about right now," he says, interrupting my stream of thoughts.

I look up at him. "Yes, sure."

He reaches over and gently starts to stroke my hand.

"How are you feeling?" he wants to know. "What's going through that beautiful head?"

I smile.

"Nothing in particular," I lie.

"You know," he whispers while caressing the back of my hand with his finger. "I promised you, I would make it up. My wrongdoings."

"Yes, you did," I murmur.

His touch is electric. I shiver as he moves along my wrist, only ever so faintly touching my skin as the tip of his finger teases my lower arm.

"Will you let me?" he asks.

"Let you?"

"Make it up to you."

I nod. "Yes."

He frowns. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he says and abruptly rises from his seat. "Get up."

I follow his order and look up at him with anticipation as he walks around the table to get closer to me.

"This is going to be all about you," he promises before he leans forward to bless me with one of his heavenly kisses.

This man. I can feel my entire body relaxing instantly as if I was literally melting beneath his touch, his kiss.

Strength and fierceness are leaving me to make room for something else. For that willing haziness that makes me feel weak and empowered at the same time.

I know I trust him – at least in this regard.

Our kiss ends and he turns around to reach for the roses. He starts fiddling with the ribbon and just as I am about to ask him what he is doing, he opens it by carefully pulling at one of the ends. The long silk ribbon breaks loose from the roses, one end gliding down on the table while he holds the other between two of his fingers.

"Put your hands in front of your chest," he says. "As if you were praying."

I smile as I follow his order. "Yes, Sir."

The silk ribbon is just long enough for him to tie it around both my wrists twice. He fastens it with an elaborate knot and returns my smile.

"You better be careful," he warns. "This ribbon is delicate and not very strong. If you yank on it too much and break it, I will stop whatever I am doing immediately."

I cast him a cheeky smile.

"And I promise you, you wouldn't like that," he adds. "Come."

He hooks into the band between my wrists with two fingers and leads me out of the kitchen. I follow him quietly, curious to see whether he can figure out which one of the two bedrooms along our small hallway might be mine.

He can. He pauses just for a second before he unerringly continues his way toward my door, me scurrying behind him.

A wide smile appears on his face as we enter my bedroom. It is tiny and – luckily – rather tidy for that exact reason.

"I like the smell in here," he comments.

I blush at that weird statement. What smell is he talking about?

He turns around to me.

"That is a beautiful dress you're wearing today," he whispers, caressing my naked shoulder with the tip of his finger. "I love your neck and shoulders exposed like this. And it is so convenient, don't you think?"

I look up at him, confused.

"To get you out of it," he explains. "Even with your hands tight like this."

I smirk at him. "Yes, you really thought this through."

He shakes his head. "Lift your arms, hands above your head."

I do as I am told. "Yes, Sir."

"And stay like this until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, Sir."

He reaches around me and quickly finds the zipper at the back of my dress. Without further ado, he opens it up. With the zipper undone, the dress sits rather loose around my slim body and instantly falls down to the ground as soon as Evan takes his hands off of it.

He hums with approval.

"Pretty dress," he whispers. "But even prettier without."

I am wearing a dark red thong and a matching strapless bra. Only now do I realize how well my underwear matches the ribbon around my wrist. And so does Evan.

"What a perfect picture we created," he whispers while his eyes scan my entire body. "A perfect match."

He looks at me for a few more moments. His eyes are full of affection and adoration. To be looked at like this is still weird. It is confusing and scary, but also incredibly sexy. I can tell in his eyes how much he wants me.

He moves closer and puts his arms around me again, to open my bra. My arms are still up above my head and it tickles when Evan brushes along my side.

"Oh," he comments as he notices me flinching and giggling. "My little girl is ticklish, huh? That's good to know."

Fuck. I widen my eyes, alarmed. I don't think I'm a fan of that kind of torture.

"Don't worry," he says, taking a step back with my bra now in his hands. "Nothing will happen to you right now. I promise."

He looks at me again, now with my breasts exposed.

"Beautiful," he assesses. He drops my bra on the floor next to my dress and moves forward, gently cupping my breasts. I close my eyes to relish the moment. His hands feel so good on me. So perfect.

I moan when he takes my nipples between two of his fingers and squeezes them. The subtle pain enhances the pleasure of his touch.

Too soon, his hands let go of my breasts and move down along my side until he reaches the hem of my thong. He pauses for a moment before he slowly pulls it down until it falls down by itself.

I instantly step out of it, finding it weird to balance with my hands still up in the air.

"On the bed," he whispers. "On your back."

His voice is gentle and loving, but I don't need to test him to know that any backtalk or hesitation from my side can change that very quickly.

I stumble toward my bed and position myself the way he wants me to, awkwardly falling back on my bed as I have no way of supporting myself with my hands.

"Lift your knees," he orders next. "And spread them. As far as you can."

I gulp. He has seen me like this before. There is no logical reason for me to be ashamed about exposing myself to him like this.

At least that is what I am trying to tell myself as I follow his order and slowly lift and spread my knees as well as I can. I am rather flexible and thus give a lot of leeway for him to look at me in this awkward position.

He smiles and nods in approval. "Good girl."

I blush and close my eyes while he looks at me. It is that silly reassurance of 'if I don't see him, he won't see me' that even children cannot fool themselves with.

And of course, he doesn't let it go.

"Look at me," he says.

I obey and slowly open my eyes to return his gaze.

He is still smiling.

"You have nothing to be ashamed off," he assures. "This is the most beautiful sight I could hope for."

It takes all my strength to withstand his eyes. Everything inside me screams to flee. I want to turn my head, close my eyes, crawl under a blanket, hide myself.

"Leave your hands above your head," he says. "And remember, the ribbon is not very tight, not very strong. No matter what I do to you, you cannot yank at it. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I utter.

"Good girl," he says.

Again, he remains fully dressed as he climbs on the bed, placing himself between my legs. His eyes are on my center, staring at my nakedness.

For a few moments, that is all he does. He is sitting between my legs, staring at me, obviously enjoying the view – and my growing embarrassment. My breathing accelerates and I start shivering. I try to remain calm, but my body keeps moving, squirming and moving from side to side as if he was touching me.

"Beautiful," he whispers. "So responsive."

Finally, he removes his eyes from my center and looks up to catch mine.

"What do you think?" he asks. "If I touch you, what will I find?"

I bite my lip, unable to reply.

"Answer me!" he hisses, accompanied by a little slap at the upper inside of my thigh. It doesn't hurt much, but it took me by surprise.

My hands fly up for a second, causing a little pull at the ribbon. I now realize that it will not be easy to keep the knot around my wrists intact.

He notices, too.

"Uh oh, be careful, baby girl," he says. "You're going to regret it if you're not."

I bite my lip again, not because I am dumbfounded, but to suppress a snappy remark that might get me into even more trouble.

"So?" he presses. "Tell me. What will I find?"

I gulp and subtly shake my head. "I... don't know."

"You don't know?" he gasps with indignation and adds another slap to the inside of my thigh. The other leg this time.

"I think you do," he says. "Are you wet for me?"

I am pretty sure, I am. But it's too embarrassing for me to admit. Too humiliating.

"Answer me!" he yells.

And again, he slaps the inside of my thighs. Twice, one on each side. And harder than before. I flinch and let out a little shriek, careful not to move my hands too much.

"Yes!" I finally bring forth.

"Yes what?" he presses.

For God's sake.

"Yes, I am wet for you," I utter. "I think..."

He smirks. "You think, huh."

His hand is on the inside of my thigh again, but not to slap it this time. He slowly moves it upward, caressing my sensitive skin. I shiver and moan as he gets closer to my entrance.

"Should I check?" he asks, stopping just before he reaches my folds.

Yes, goddammit!

"Yes," I whimper. "Please!"

"Good girl," he comments. "I like you desperate like this. You're lucky that this one is all about you – otherwise I would make you wait longer."

And with that, his hand finally moves where I want it to be. Where I crave it to be. I arch my back and moan as he finally touches my wetness. It is embarrassing, but I can literally hear how aroused I am. The slick sound that his fingers cause when he carefully spreads my folds is too revealing.

My body's reaction even amazes him.

"Wow, Nicky," he whispers. "Look at that. Look how excited you are for me."

My body writhes under his touch as he starts circling his fingers around the most sensitive spot of my entire body. He is careful and gentle. Almost too gentle for my taste.

"Fuck me," I hear myself beg.

"Is that what you want?" he asks.

"Yes, please!" I insist.

"We'll see," he replies and leans forward, placing himself on his stomach so that he can reach my center with his lips.

"I need to get a taste of you first," he whispers.

I can feel his breath on my trembling entrance as he lowers himself closer. Another moan escapes my lips when his tongue finally touches me. He doesn't waste any time and circles it around my clit, quickly – way too quickly – bringing me closer to a climax that I do not yet want.

It gets harder and harder to control myself. My legs are trembling and shaking and I feel the strong urge to lower my arms. I want to touch him so badly, but I am not allowed. The desire is almost painful.

But not as painful as his next move. I am dizzy and drunk with lust when his hand lands on my skin with a strong, unyielding slap across my right breast.

I yelp in pain and instinctively bend my elbows, thus lowering my hands above my chest to protect myself.

"No!" he warns, only looking up for a mere second to make sure that my hands go right back where they belong.

The ribbon is still tied around my wrists, but I can feel that the knot is slightly loosened due to my renewed yanking. I place my hands back above my head, breathing heavily as I am still coping with the pain from the surprise slap. Slowly but steadily, the pulsating ache is turning into the warm afterglow I have come to appreciate too much.

His tongue is back between my legs, spoiling me endlessly as he continues to taste me. I groan with lust – and silently wish for more. More of him. More pain even.

As if he could read my mind, his other hand flies across my left breast. The pain is immense, especially since he did a better job at hitting my nipple this time. But despite the teary eyes and the anguished cry with which I greet his gesture, I somehow manage to control my arms and leave them where they ought to be.

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