Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels (67 page)

“Come into my study, would you please. I’d like for us to have a drink and talk about how Red Penny is doing.”

She opened her mouth to refuse him. But something in his eyes stopped her. She swallowed. Maybe an afternoon under Damien’s sensual control was just the distraction she needed; at least for a little while. He made her feel so good that for the moments she was with him, everything else in the world seemed to vanish.
That
was what she needed right now.

Sasha cleared her throat. Her fingers tightening on the strap of her messenger bag. “Sure. It’ll be great for us to…talk.” She fell into step with him, conscious of the potential eyes on them as they walked through the stables and into the house.

“I heard from Linc that Penny isn’t taking that well to the bit,” Damien said as they walked into his study and closed the door behind them. Locked it.

“She’s getting better,” Sasha said. “Today she performed really well on the track.” She turned to Damien, dropped her bag on the floor near the door.

He turned to her, eyes smoldering. “You look sexy in your riding clothes,” he said.

He touched her hot face, her throat. “Every time I see you, you are more and more incredible to me. The perfect woman. I’m completely distracted by thoughts of fucking you again.” He kissed her roughly, his hard mouth taking hers almost cruelly, crushing her soft lips under his.

Her arms went around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked on her lips, gripped her hips through the denim. She moaned against his mouth, already caught up in the frenzy of wanting him. He ripped his mouth away from hers, dragged her to the middle of the room to stand on the thick Persian rug. He shoved her to her knees, knelt in front of her, dragged the shirt from her body, the slacks, and her boots until she was completely naked, her skin hot and prickling under his intense gaze.

With his eyes on hers, her roughly squeezed her breasts, twisted her nipples until she cried out, arousal slamming into her, pooling between her legs. His eyes glittered with a cruel desire, his mouth hard and tight, unyielding. He reached into his pocket, pulled out two wooden clothes pins. With his eyes still trapping hers, he snapped a wooden pincer on her tight nipple.

She gasped, the pain of it making her eyes water. Then he snapped the other pin onto her other nipple. Pain. Pleasure. Bliss. She writhed in the cool air stroking her from the humming air conditioner, her pussy fairly dripping thick juices down her thigh and onto his expensive rug. He flicked the clothes pin with a finger. She screamed softly.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he said.

Damien stood up and walked her. Kicked her thighs apart. Grabbed her wrists and jerked them behind her back. He grabbed her belt from the pile of discarded clothes and lashed her wrists together with the black leather, tugged her backward until her body made a tight bow, breasts tilted up toward the ceiling, thighs spread. Mouth open and gasping at the pain in her wrists from the tightly wrapped belt. Her knees pressed hard against the floor even through the thick carpet. Arousal sang through her. Sasha’s body fairly vibrated with it. She moaned in happiness, pain and endorphins flooding through her like hot molasses.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

Damien knelt behind her. He roughly shoved a hand between her legs, dipped a finger into her pussy, and withdrew it with a groan of pure arousal. “Fucking gorgeous.”

His breath huffed against the back of her neck. He shoved her head down until her forehead touched the rug. The faintly musty scent of the expensive antique filled her nose. The scent of her dripping pussy. His arousal. Her cuffed hands thrust up in the air above her ass, the backs of her arms burning as he yanked on the belt.

Sasha heard the scrape of leather against metal as Damien undid his belt, then the sound of his zipper. Sasha panted softly, anticipating the thrust of his maleness, eager for it. He didn’t make her wait. Damien speared her with his hard cock, the thick root of him sliding deep into her pussy. She felt the open teeth of his zipper, the buckle of his belt against her ass. He grabbed the belt holding her wrists captive, using it as a leash to control her, yanking it with each thrust of his hard cock inside her.

Grunting with each thrust, he fucked her mercilessly. His cock poured the pleasure into her while the muscles in her arms burned from the taunt pull of the belt and the skin of her wrists chafed from the rub of the belt. His cock slammed into her, stirring up pleasure, shoving her across the rug, her neck stretched up, mouth gasping as he fucked her. Her breasts jumped with each thrust, her body vibrating from his possession. The clothes pins felt even tighter as her nipples stiffened even more with her desire. She opened herself even more to him, thighs wide, pussy wet, sucking him in with each movement of his hips.

“Oh God!” she called out as the pleasure built quickly, roiling like a stormy sea in the pit of her belly, in her hips, in her pussy.

“Fuck!” she screamed. Her body flushed hot.

Damien grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and back and back. His hands fell around her throat, gripped it. He slammed his cock into her, tirelessly, endlessly as his hands tightened around her neck. Sasha gasped from the pleasure, from the sensation of his strong hands at her slender throat, her head swam, her body lifted high, floated above everything, ecstasy stabbed her. Her pussy squeezed him, throbbed for him, wicked sensation moving through her like a dream.

Behind her, Damien grunted as he fucked her. She felt her body tightening. More and more. His hand tightened around her throat even more as the orgasm rushed to meet her. Fire and ice and sensation and bliss beyond anything she’d ever felt.

“Come for me, Sasha.” He yanked the clothes pins from her nipples.

She screamed, tumbling off the precipice, her world aflame, her eyes blind. There was only sensation, the rush of blood into her nipples, his thick cock slamming into her, the burn in her entrapped wrists, the ecstasy breaking her apart. In some dim part of her, she was aware of Damien’s body exploding inside of hers, the hot jet of his completion inside her pussy as he gasped her name over and over again.

They were still for a long time. The only movement their chests heaving from their hectic breaths. Damien was behind her, his softening cock still in her pussy, her belted hands still trapped behind her. Then, he withdrew from her body, unbuckled the belt trapping her wrists. She heard the sound of a zipper, then a belt being buckled. He lifted her into his arms.

Damien took her to the couch. He lay down on the leather and drew her down on top him. She snuggled into his chest, her fingers curling into the polo shirt that smelled of his unique masculine scent, the outdoors and his sweat. She rested against him enjoying the uncomplicated pleasure of his touch. The utter comfort of her naked body on top of his clothed one. His heart beating swiftly beneath her ear. If only things could stay like this forever.

But she knew they couldn’t. That wasn’t the world she lived in now. That world was filled with threats and near poverty and the heavy weight of her brother looming with a knife waiting for an excuse to slash her life to bits. The tears Sasha had been fighting all day dripped from her eyes, rolled down her face. Then she was trembling.

“Sasha?” His hand touched her cheek. He gasped and sat up, cradling her against him. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you?”

She cried even harder at the note of concern in his voice, the gentleness of his arms around her.

“No, no. It wasn’t that. What we did was perfect.” Her voice wobbled as her fingers clutched at his shirt. His heart beat strong and steady under her hand.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked. “You can tell me anything.” His eyes met hers, dark and full of concern.

The entire filthy confession of her predicament rested on the tip of her tongue. If he asked her one more time what was wrong, she would just say the words. She would tell him everything.

“Whatever is going on with you, I’ll take care of it,” he said.

She stiffened. Although she loved the way he took control of her during sex, she would never allow him the same power outside the bedroom. She didn’t want him to think she was weak and needed taking care of.

“I’m really okay.” She took a deep breath. “It’s just hormones, I guess.” She hurriedly wiped her face, sat up. “I should go.”

For a moment, his hands tightened around her. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he released her. Sasha stood up and started pulling on her clothes. Damien picked up her bag for her, held it in his hand as she ran her fingers through her hair, and shook the dark locks back over her shoulders.

Damien unlocked the door to his study. They walked in silence through the house and out to the parking lot where she left her car. She took her bag from him with a soft word of thanks.

“I’ll see you later,” she said as she climbed into her car.

She started the engine, already feeling the loneliness and despair tug at her. She desperately wanted to stay with him, be sheltered in the warmth of his arms, in his strength. But she knew that wasn’t an option. Her bottom lip trembled. She savagely bit down on it, put the car in gear and drove away.

Sasha felt Damien’s eyes on her but never once looked back.

Chapter Eleven

Sasha brought in the last of the boxes into her new apartment, dropping it near the door before heading back out to the grass to take her car and move it to the parking lot. It was raining and dark. The perfect expression of her mood.

A steady drizzle patted her head and face with cold beads of moisture. The rain dripped into her shirt, soaking her with each trip she took from her car to the new apartment. The short walkway was cracked and old. A few times, she’d stumbled and almost fallen from a haphazardly raised piece of concrete or vine growing up through the ancient foundation. Sasha was damn lucky she hadn’t twisted her ankle and gone sprawling in the grass.

She parked the car in the cramped parking lot, watching her new neighbors as she sat behind the wheel after turning off the engine. A couple of women lay stretched out on a balcony in their underwear, smoking cigarettes and staring out into the rain. A man dashed through the parking lot with a folded newspaper held over his head. As he ran, his white t-shirt flapped up, revealing the handle of a pistol tucked in his waistband. A clothesline hung with wet and limp t-shirts, dresses, and baby onesies was strung between two balconies. The sound of heavy, pounding bass jolted out into the dark afternoon, a counterpoint to her miserably beating heart. This neighborhood was too much like the one she and James had grown up in with their parents. Sasha wiped raindrops from her face, tucked her hair behind her ear.

Taking a deep breath, she heaved herself from the car, her body feeling heavy and unwieldy. Paying little attention to the rain that started to come down harder, she trudged up from the parking lot. At the door to her apartment, a smaller place than she’d had before and in a rougher part of town than she would have liked, she wiped her feet on the welcome mat.

The apartment and the neighborhood were both admittedly awful. But it was all she had been able to afford after getting evicted from her studio apartment for nonpayment of rent. Even now, the humiliation of it stung her cheeks. The surprise on the office woman’s face when she’d seen that after five years of an impeccable rental history, Sasha had stopped paying the rent.

The woman, pretty and brown-skinned with kind eyes, had asked if she could do anything for Sasha, if there was anything that she could set in motion to help her keep her apartment. But Sasha hadn’t been able to think of anything. She just didn’t have the money. She pulled good salary at a really great job. There was no assistance that she could qualify for. Nothing that could be done for her.

In the end, the woman had given Sasha the names of several cheaper apartments where she could stay and that would overlook her current eviction. She had thanked the woman, fighting tears of gratitude that a stranger had gone out of her way to help while it was her own brother who had brought her to such a low point in her life.

Of the half dozen apartments the woman had suggested, Sasha had only been able to afford one of them after taking out the amount of money her brother demanded of her every month. The six thousand dollars he leeched from her was barely keeping him afloat, if what he said to her on the phone was to be believed. She’d lived on less than half that amount every month herself, leaving the rest of her salary in savings. But now, she had no savings. She barely had any of her salary left after James was done with her.

Sasha wiped her feet on the indoor mat, slipped off her shoes and left them near the door. She stared around her new place. The boxes in haphazard piles on the floor. The walls with their cracked plaster and peeling paint. The water-stained roof and overhead light that would not come on.

It was nearly three in the afternoon, but it felt like the dead of night. Dark clouds hovered in the sky, thick with rain and misery. Occasional flashes of lightning burned across the sky while thunder rumbled in the distance. Sasha turned on the floor lamp and huddled on the couch over her boxes, searching through her belongings for valuables she could sell. Already, she’d put aside her diamond earrings, the small flat-screen television, a couple of gold rings she bought years ago but had barely worn.

She looked through the boxes, in theory unpacking her meager belongings into what had turned out to be the smallest and dingiest apartment she’d ever lived in. But she had done very little unpacking and instead was salvaging as many valuables from the wreckage of her life as possible. Aside from that afternoon when she’d burst into tears on top of Damien, Sasha had not cried. She had too much pride. She refused to give her brother the satisfaction of her tears.