Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel (5 page)

I blush. Yet, pride joins my embarrassment, as I am still looking at him, withstanding his gaze – and his incredibly skillful touch.

Suddenly, he removes his hands and takes a step back. I sigh with longing and disappointment, but don't say a word. Instead, I look up to him, waiting for the next move.

"Get down," he orders. "On your knees, sit on your heels."

"Yes, Sir," I whisper and comply.

"Place your hands on your knees, palms up," he adds as I am kneeling in front of him. "And lower your head."

I do as I am told and add another "Yes, Sir" as soon as I am positioned the way he wants me. This is so odd, so thrilling. I’ve never done anything like this before, obeying like a little puppy. But with him, it just feels natural. It pleases me more to obey than to fight his commands.

"Good girl," he praises. "Stay like this until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, Sir."

He walks past me and heads for the bathroom.

And then I wait.

Nicky

I hear water running. Apparently he wants to be just as fresh and clean as I am. I remain exactly the way he told me to. Sitting on my heels next to the bed, hands on knees, palms up, my head lowered – aroused and confused.

I have always enjoyed playing the submissive part in the bedroom – and only there. But I have never had anyone talking to me like this. Exposing me, touching me in my most intimate place this early in the game, and giving me orders like one would give to a slave or a child.

And I am enjoying it.

What a mindfuck. But a pleasant one. I am embarrassed and stirred up at the same time. My heart jumping with excitement while my mind tries to keep up with all the crazy thoughts run by anticipation. What will happen next? How long will he make me wait?

Why do I like this?

No. Not this question. I subtly shake my head. There is still enough time for doubt and self-analysis after tonight. I don't have to justify myself, as long as I am enjoying this. And there is no doubt about that.

I hear the bathroom door opening and instinctively want to turn my head and look up. But I don't. I can do this. I want to obey – and hear that wonderfully enticing praise again. I want to be a good girl for him.

He steps out and slowly approaches me, each step well conceived and in control, even though I can feel the tension, his burning lust for me. He stops in front of me and places his naked feet close to my knees, very close. Still, I refrain from looking up.

And I do get my reward.

"Good girl," he whispers. "I didn't expect you to be this good at following orders."

Neither did I
, a voice inside my head exclaims. And yet, here I am. Kneeling naked in front of a man who looks like the perfect office slave yuppie. But looks can be deceiving. More and more, I am beginning to think that there is more to him than the used up presumptions I had when I first saw him.

"Look up," he orders. "I know you want to."

"Yes, Sir."

This feels like a victory. I smile as I slowly raise my head, scanning every part of his naked body as I do. His toned, long legs, up to his center, where he sports his impressive, half erected cock.

I cannot help but pause for a moment when I see it. Gorgeous. It is intimidating how perfect this man is – all the way down to his member, which causes me to gasp even when it is not fully awake. Straight, clean and with a remarkable girth that is proportional to its length. I can literally see it growing under my eyes. Whatever I am doing, whoever I am – he is enjoying it.

"I am up here," he reminds me, smirking like a proud little boy when I finally raise my eyes, following his buffed upper body. He is not as hairy as I expected. Only a very faint but dark fluff decorates his toned chest. His upper body is a sculptured masterpiece of muscular canyons, coated with tanned skin.

He is
so
out of my league.

"You want to play with it, don't you?" he asks, standing in front of me with his hands behind his back, like a soldier.

I nod. "Yes, Sir. Very much."

"Well," he says. "Unfortunately, it will be up to me to decide whether I let that happen."

And before I have a chance to object, he produces a blindfold that he has been hiding behind his back.

I pout when he puts it on me – which, I am sure, does not go unnoticed by him. The world darkens around me as he robs me of that beautiful sight.

I remain still, awaiting his next move while he observes me. I cannot see him anymore, but I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in place and causing me to breathe heavily with anticipation.

I flinch when I feel his hands on my shoulders.

"Get up," he whispers.

"Yes, Sir."

I stagger back up on my feet, supported by him as my sense of balance is distorted by the blindfold and the fact that I have been kneeling for quite a while.

He gently guides me toward the bed. "Lie on your back."

I do as I am told, feeling utterly exposed and safe at the same time as I place my naked body on the soft sheets.

"Hands up," is his next command.

He grabs my left wrist as soon as I comply and puts something around it. Leather, it seems. A leather handcuff. It closes with an audible sound and – judging from the sounds I hear – appears to have a small chain attached to it that he fastens at the bed post above my head. He continues to do the same to my other hand, so that both my wrist are tied to the bed posts on either side of the bed.

I am helpless, naked and instinctively try to cover myself by closing my legs as well as I can. Of course, there is no point in doing that, but I cannot help it. For the time, I feel something like fear spreading through my body. Joining, but not replacing the excitement from before.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"I have to, don't I?" I reply.

He chuckles. "Sassy girl. Spread your legs."

I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I contemplate that order. Spreading my legs would be opposite of what I am doing right now, as I am pushing my thighs against each other, trying to expose as little as possible of my most intimate body parts.

"Now!" he snaps – and I comply.

I open my legs with one sudden movement, following the commanding sound of his voice.

"Good girl," he praises and pets my head.

He moves between my legs and I squirm in front of him, moving my hip from one side to the other, my legs twitching as I fight the urge to close them again.

He places his hands on the inner side of my lower legs respectively and slowly moves them upwards, closing in on my trembling center. My breathing accelerates uncontrollably. I yearn for his touch. I want to feel him between my legs again. His wonderful fingers caressing my...

Yes! A desperate moan escapes my lips when he reaches my wet entrance. He doesn't hesitate one moment to spread my folds and move another finger between them to gently massage my nub of pleasure.

The anticipation, the long build up has made me so charged, I instantly start to shiver with lust when he starts touching me. He hums with approval. "Good girl."

I yank on the cuffs around my wrist as I start to struggle, writhing under his touch, desperate with lust and so incredibly hungry for more, for him. I want him inside me.

"What do you want?" he asks as if he could read my mind.

I bite my lower lip, fully aware of what the answer should be, but too embarrassed to actually say it.

"What. Do. You. Want?" He repeats, now inserting his finger and underlying each word with a brute, delicious shove inside me.

I catch myself leaning into him. My entire body is begging him to fuck me – why do I need to say it out loud.

Because that is what he wants. And it is what I need to give him to get what I want.

"I want you to fuck me," I breathe. Low and hoarse.

"Louder," he says.

Oh, for God's sake.

"I want you to fuck me!" I yell. "Please, Sir! Please fuck me!"

My cheeks are burning, just like the rest of my body. Lust and embarrassment are forming a toxic team that takes over my entire body and mind.

He removes his hand from my fiery center. I hear plastic ripping – a condom package, I assume.

"You are such a good girl," he exclaims before I can feel the tip of his hard cock at my entrance. "You deserve this, you truly do."

I arch my back, inviting him in. But he needs no more invitation and begging. With one forceful push, he spreads me apart, easily sliding inside my wetness as I moan beneath him.

I wish I could see him, but my vision is still concealed. He bends my legs and pushes them up to my chest to gain more leeway as he starts fucking me.

He is big and stretching me well with every single one of his brute thrusts inside me. The pain is causing me to wince and cry. But soon, those cries turn into outbursts of release and lust as I take him in.

I want to touch him, to see him – and neither is possible, because of my restraints. It drives me mad.

His thrusts intensify, growing faster and deeper with every moment that passes. I feel my orgasm approaching, already.

"Close your eyes!" he orders.

"Why?" I blurt out. I am already blindfolded – what is this about?

"Do it!" he adds, fucking me extra hard to underline his command.

I do as I am told. And just a moment later, I come to understand his demand.

He removes the blindfold from my eyes and even though the room is not brightly lit, my eyes need some adjusting, coming from complete darkness. I carefully open them and finally see him again.

He is smiling down at me, his buff chest glistening with a hint of sweat. He is still holding my legs up, entering me as deeply as possible with every shove.

I can feel my entire center clenching around him, edging him on.

He leans forward to kiss me, his tongue invading my mouth while he continues to fuck me mercilessly.

"I'm gonna c –"

"Oh, yes you will," he interrupts me.

He straightens up and moves his right hand toward my center.

I let out a cry of lust when he starts rubbing my clit while shoving his beautiful, rock hard erection inside me.

"You are going to come," he hisses. "Because I want you to!"

His words and his hand on my clit are all I needed. I groan and arch my back, throwing my head back as far as possible, as my orgasm claims control of me.

I come hard, my muscles clenching around him as if my body is trying to trap him, to make him stay there forever.

And he feels it. Through half closed eyes, I can see him lose control as well, as he finds his release inside me. I cannot believe we are actually climaxing together, both moaning and groaning, insane with lust and release.

This has never happened to me before. Not like this. Not after I just met someone.

Then again, there have been a lot of firsts this night.

***

I return home the next morning, unsure what to tell Yuka. That I have had a one-night stand? It would not be the first, even after the short time we have lived together – though I am not proud to admit that.

But what happened between me and Evan last night appears to be so much more. The sex was so intense, so different, so intimate. As if I have known him forever.

After our first climax together, he untied my sore wrists and we took advantage of the whirlpool in his luxury hotel room. He wrapped his strong arms around me and his hands soon wandered off to other places, teasing and caressing my most sensitive spot. There was nothing I could do. He made me come again, one hand closing around my throat to gently choke me while the other played havoc with my swollen clit. I didn’t think I’d have another in me, but he proved me wrong.

I was worn out, tired, but completely satisfied when he wrapped me in a soft, giant towel afterwards and – despite my protest – put me into bed next to him, where I dozed off in his arms.

There are so many questions I want to ask him. But he was unwilling to answer any of them. He hushed me last night, and he did it again this morning. He also insisted on his "No fights" rule and ignored my protest when he called a car to take me home. Not a cab, no, a limousine.

"You don't have to impress me anymore," I joked as he accompanied me downstairs to the lobby. "You got what you wanted, remember?”

He casts me a concerned look. “And you didn’t?”

I blushed. That was a stupid thing to say. Why did I have to keep insulting him?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Of course I did. I didn’t mean to –”

“Forget about it,” he interrupted, handing me a little card. Not a real business card, just a little note with his name and his number on it.

"It's up to you now," he said, as he sent me off.

Up to me. Again. As pushy and confident as he is on the one hand, he sure wants to be certain that the interest is mutual.

I try to be as quiet as possible when I enter the apartment. It is not even ten a.m. and both Yuka and I are usually still asleep at this time, if possible.

Much to my surprise she is already up, though. I find her sitting at our small kitchen table, reading a magazine and sipping on her first morning coffee.

She grins at me. "Good morning, party girl."

"Good morning, bar slave," I reply. "How come you're up already?"

She rolls her eyes. "Brunch date with someone who thinks that it's okay to chase people out of the house at eleven a.m."

"Mean," I comment, as I pour myself a coffee.

"So," she says after I sat down opposite of her. "How was it? Nice guy?"

I smile. "I wouldn't say 'nice', but interesting and fun for sure."

Yuka raises her eyebrows. "Ooh, that sounds intriguing! I'd pester you with questions, but I haven't even taken a shower yet and really need to get ready."