His Secret Muse: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (6 page)

"Perfect for you?" I ask, frowning with skepticism.

He has got to be kidding. How on earth could I be perfect for someone like him? What could we possibly have in common?

"You don't feel it?" he asks. "Let me show you."

He gets up from his seat and walks over to me.

"Get up," he orders.

I look up at him and comply immediately if only to gain height on him. He is so tall that the intimidation is hard to handle for me in a sitting position.

It might be the first time in my life that I am grateful for my height. He is still towering well above me, but withstanding his gaze is a lot easier from the position I am standing in right now. I can't even imagine what it would feel like to look at him from Lesley's perspective.

We stand close to each other with our bodies just barely touching. I can feel his breath on me as I return his intense gaze. He is not saying a word, but just looking at me.

Okay, two can play at that game.

If he thinks he can make me fall to pieces just by looking at me like this, I'll just have to prove him wrong. This is easy.

I will just ignore his enticing smell.

And that magnetic tension.

I notice my body leaning in closer to him - and instantly withdraw myself by clumsily taking a step back.

"Too late," he whispers. "You may have noticed yourself moving closer to me. But you missed something else that is far more telling."

"What?" I blurt at him.

"Your breathing," he answers. "There are a lot of things in our body that we can control. I am mostly interested in the parts that we have trouble controlling. Your breathing is one of them."

"What else is there?" I ask in a low voice.

He smirks. "I'd have to touch you to show you."

I gulp. I cannot think of anything that I would want more right now than for him to touch me. Wherever he wants to.

"Show me," I breathe.

He leans in closer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, goddammit," I hiss.

He shakes his head. "I am going to remember that one later. You better stop replying with such annoyance."

I swallow dryly and nod in silence.

Before I know it, we are kissing again. I can still taste a hint of wasabi on his tongue. It adds an exotic sting to our kiss.

I know he notices even the slightest changes in my demeanor, and I don't want to make it too easy for him. He is trying to prove something - and kissing me like this is not playing fair. Any woman would melt under a kiss like this.

"So," I breathe when he stops and slowly withdraws himself. "What is your point?"

"My point is this," he hisses, as he simultaneously reaches beneath my skirt and yanks my pantyhose down with such force that they rip.

I want to protest, but he silences me with one hand on my mouth while the other travels up between my legs again, to pull down my panties with one brute motion.

I yelp, suffocated by his hand, while he doesn't hesitate for even a second to reach back up at my naked center. He skillfully parts my folds and lets one finger slip between them.

A smug grin appears on his face when he finds what he was expecting.

"
This
is my point," he triumphantly repeats.

He withdraws his hand and holds it up in front of my face, so I can see the glistening wetness on his fingers, before he moves them to his mouth, licking each of them with relish.

I blush and almost die of embarrassment. He removes the other hand from my mouth and looks at me, stern and expectant as if he was waiting for an apology.

I am still standing exposed, with my pantyhose ripped, my panties pulled down, and my skirt lifted.

He grabs my arm when I make a move to fix my clothes.

"Oh no," he warns me. "You'll stay like this as long as I tell you to."

I freeze and look up at him, furious with anger and humiliation.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

And why am I so aroused already? Just from the kiss? That can't be it. If anything, his recent move has only worsened things in that regard. I feel like I am literally dripping with arousal.

"Now," he whispers. "How do you explain this?"

I gulp, unsure what to reply. "I don't know."

"Are you still telling me that you don't feel it?" he presses. "That there is nothing between us? Nothing that attracts you about what just happened?"

I remain silent and bite my lip instead of granting him a reply.

"This is what I am talking about," he continues. "The parts of our body that we cannot control. Your body is more honest than your mind. I bet if I reach down there again right now, you would drool on my hand even more than before. Don't you think?"

"Yes," I bring forth, closing my eyes in shame.

He shakes his head. "That is not what I want to hear."

"What
do
you want to hear?" I ask.

"From now I want you to call me Sir," he says. "And when I ask you something, what I want to hear is 'Yes, Sir.’ Understand?"

I stare up at him. As if I was actively planning to make things worse for myself - I frown, again. "Excuse me?"

He sighs. His look darkens. "Do you really want me to
make
you say it?"

I inhale noisily. What the hell is going on? My heart marches to a different drum now. He scares me.

But just enough for me to still enjoy it.

"Answer me!" he urges.

"Yes, Sir," I blurt out. "I mean, no. No, Sir. You don't have to make me-"

"Good," he cuts me short.

I flinch when he leans over again, placing his hand at the back of my head and pulling me close to bless me with another kiss. A gentle one this time, not as hungry and demanding as the ones before.

"If you say yes to this," he whispers. "I promise you, you will feel things that you never even dared to dream of."

I stare up at him. "Say yes to... what?"

"Yes to me," he replies. "Let me enjoy you, pleasure you - the only way I know how."

"What does that mean?" I breathe.

Even I curse myself for being so slow-witted today. Of course, I have an idea what he might mean.

He is not like other men. Not like anyone I have ever dated before. He has very different things to offer. Challenging things. I am pretty sure that I like it.

But I want him to say it.

Once again, he seems to read my mind.

"I am a Dominant," he whispers. "When I say I want you, I have a lot of things in mind that would be too much for most people. It might be too much for you, too."

I gulp. Yes, this is what I suspected.

"Do you want to find out?" he asks.

"Yes," I sigh.

He raises one eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir," I hastily correct myself. Damn, that was close.

He smiles. "Good girl."

Those words send a warm vibe through my entire body. The soft way they were spoken. The way he looked at me as he said them. It made me feel so special, so desirable.

How silly, really.

"Let's start by getting you out of those clothes," he says. "You look beautiful, but I cannot wait to see that body of yours. Naked."

"Um, here?" I ask.

I still don't know where exactly we are. Is this his place? Is it even private? Or shared? Do I have to fear that there might be someone else stepping through that door any moment now?

He doesn't seem to worry about that. I guess I will have to trust him.

"Yes, here," he simply says. "Exactly where you are standing now. Get undressed. And look me in the eyes as you do it."

He takes a step back to give me some room. His eyes fixate on me.

I hesitate and just look back at him like a deer in the headlights. Is he serious?

It appears he is. He buries his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and looks at me expectantly. With every moment that passes, his gaze grows more intimidating.

A smile flees across his face when I make a move to obey his command. I finish the job he has started by slowly pulling down my pantyhose and panties.

I try my best to maintain my balance as I step out of them, but of course I start staggering and bump against the table next to me, causing one of our glasses to tumble over and spill the remaining content on the table's surface.

Great.

I hurry to clean the mess by grabbing a nearby napkin and soaking it with expensive champagne that I spilled. I am such an idiot. What a nice way to kill the mood, Renee.

I look up at him with an apologetic face.

"Cute," he comments with a smug smile on his face. "I will remember this later."

Something in his voice tells me that I am going to learn what it really means when he wants to punish me for something.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, looking up at him like a child that has done something wrong.

"Don't be," he says. "Go on."

I nod and begin to unbutton my blouse and slowly let it fall off my shoulders, trying to look as elegant as possible in the process. It doesn't make up for my clumsy behavior earlier, and I have never been good at this, but I might as well try.

Next is my skirt that still sits somewhat awkward around my waist, since he pulled it up before.

I am wearing nothing but my bra and cast him a questioning look.

He raises his eyebrows. "What are you waiting for? Naked, I said."

It might be my imagination, but his breathing is changing, too. He is still standing a few steps away from me with a calm demeanor. But I can sense his excitement, his lust. It eggs me on.

I smile at him, while I unhook my bra and seductively let it fall off my body. My chest has never been my favorite body part. It is nothing I could impress anyone with. My body frame is slim and narrow, and my boobs are proportionally small. But they are perky. Even though I know that I could never catch a man's attention with my cleavage, even if I tried and pushed and stuffed and tried all the tricks in the world, I still like them the way they are. They suit me.

But they're not necessarily sexy, and I am painfully aware of it every time I undress in front of a man.

I almost feel the urge to apologize when I set them free before his eyes, but Cedric doesn't give me the impression that he is disappointed at what he is seeing.

On the contrary, he looks as if he can hardly hold himself back. His intense gaze fixates on my body, scanning up and down as I stand before him, completely exposed.

No man has ever looked at me this way. Like a predator who is about to devour is prey.

It's so damn enticing.

I just stand there and let him assess me, my arms hanging to the side, subtly moving back and forth while my fingers fiddle in the air, searching for something to do, something to grab on to.

"You look fucking delicious," he comments. "Come here to me."

I obey and approach him with small, short steps. This is so weirdly hot. I feel helpless and exposed, tiny even. A feeling that is unfamiliar to me.

He welcomes me with open arms, placing his warm hands on my shoulders respectively as soon as I am within in his reach. I smile up at him as he pulls me closer.

"You have done good," he whispers. "So cute, so fucking sexy. And so many mistakes. Giving me so much opportunity for punishment."

My smile fades and is replaced with a hint of fear.

"Mistakes?" I ask.

He chuckles. "You bumped over a glass, spilling the exquisite drink I bought for you. And you forgot to reply."

I frown. "Reply to what?"

"To my commands," he explains. "When I tell you to do something, I want you to reply with 'Yes, Sir.’ Did I not make that clear?"

"Obviously not clear enough," I joke, casting him a mischievous smile.

Despite his repetitive warnings, I am still surprised by what happens next.

His face changes to a stern, almost scary expression. He grabs my upper arm as he turns around, marching towards the seating area with wide, determined steps, while I hurry behind him, stumbling like a toddler who is trying to keep up with angry parents.

"On your knees!" he yells, pushing me forward so that I am landing on one of the sofas, barely able to support myself.

I look up at him. His face is giving me nothing but stern expectation.

"On your knees," he repeats. "Ass facing towards me."

An idea of what I might have to expect is forming in my head as I comply. I place my hands on the backrest of the sofa, while my knees are on the soft seating surface, arching my back so that my ass sticks out a little more to give him a better view.

Not even a second passes before I feel the first blow. His hand lands on my left ass cheek with so much force that it causes me to yelp in pain.

Fuck, I never knew how much a spanking could hurt. A real spanking. This is not like the little smacks I have received before. This hurts.

Before I can fully grasp what is happening to me, he adds another slap, this time on my right cheek. I whimper but try my best not to cry out again.