His Secret Muse: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (8 page)

The penthouse below the sunroom on the rooftop is about three times as big as my apartment, but he still labels it as small.

The interior is furnished and decorated in bright colors with very little dark and colorful accents, which gives it a bit of a clinical look. Big panoramic windows in the giant living room and the bedroom give way to a view of the city like I have never seen it before.

I am alone when I wake up the next morning, even though I have a feeling that it is still quite early. The curtains were left open, letting in the sunlight of the early day and thus waking me up.

I sleepily rub my eyes and sit up straight, gazing out at the fantastic view that presents itself in front of me.

I must still be dreaming. This can't be true.

My eyes divert from the beautiful scenery outside the window and scan the luxurious room that I am. Never in my life have I woken up surrounded by so much extravagance.

There is little furniture in this room, mainly the gigantic bed, a simple but elegant dresser and a table with - thank God - a mirror.

I peel myself out of the numerous layers of soft sheets and crawl out of bed, stretching and yawning. I am almost naked, wearing nothing but my panties. The rest of my stuff is nowhere to be seen.

A quick check in the mirror suggests that I should at least wash my face before I go out and face him.

Two doors to my right are leaving out of the room, and I remember that one of them is connected to a bathroom. I enter it with the intention of just freshening up a little, but when I notice the stunning and huge shower cabinet and the selection of beauty products that are placed around it, I feel the strong urge to try it out. I'm sure he won't mind.

If he does, it would just give him another reason to punish me. I wouldn't complain about that.

The skin on my behind has recovered. Even when the hot water of the shower hits it, I don't feel the slightest burn. It sort of saddens me. I was hoping to take a nice memory home with me today.   

The rain shower covers me entirely in protective, warm and heavy water drops. I sigh audibly. If I had a shower like this at home, I would declare showering my new hobby.

After what must have been the longest shower of my life, I wrap myself in a robe that I find lying on a dresser next to the sink. I check myself in a mirror that stretches across the entire wall on one side of the bathroom.

Even the thickest make-up couldn't help my tired eyes right now. I really wonder what time it is. This does not feel like a natural time for me to get up at all.

The entire penthouse is dead quiet. Did he go out and leave me here by myself?

For some reason, it does not occur to me to call him. Instead, I tiptoe along the wide hallway that leads to the living room. The closer I get, the more I can perceive the faint sound of typing.

Is he working?

I try to make as little noise as possible as I peek around the corner of the living room. There I find him, sitting at a small desk directly in front of the panoramic window with his back to me. He is only wearing dark blue sweat pants, presenting his muscular back to me. I knew he'd be buff, what little I could feel through his suit last night did not lie to me.

The sunlight is not hitting this side of the house yet, so he is sitting in rather dark corner, but so close to the floor length window that it would scare me if I was him.

He doesn't seem to care at all, though. In fact, he doesn't even notice anything around him, including me. He has his laptop in front of him and is staring at the screen while frantically typing away.

He is working.

I freeze and hide around the corner, peeking at him like a shy child. The silence is eerie. The only sound is that of his fingers flying across the keyboard.

I wish I could see his face. Seeing him like this is enticing already. So immersed and concentrated.

His hair is ruffled and wet, so he must have taken a shower not too long before me.  

I let a few more moments pass before I dare to enter the living room, still on my tiptoes. I don't want to disturb him, but watching him while sitting on the sofa sounds more appealing than leaning against the wall in the hallway.

Due to the size of the room, there is quite some distance between the seating area and his desk. I quietly place myself on the sofa closest to him and continue watching him.

Now, I am the observer while he is the one being watched closely. A smirk appears on my face.

I curl up and rest my chin on my knee as I continue watching him. He has not stopped typing for a moment since I entered the room.

Where in the world do all these words come from? Does he never have to pause and think?

This must be what 'being in the zone' looks like. An almost hypnotic state that should not be interrupted.

But then he does stop.

He leans back and stretches, causing the muscles on his back to flex. God, he is sexy. I never knew that the sole sight of someone could entice me as much as he is right now.

He lets out a loud sigh and turns around to look outside the panoramic window to his left.

"Renee," he exclaims when he notices me in his peripheral vision. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," I reply, smiling triumphantly. "Good morning."

He turns around to me and closes his laptop behind him.

"Have you been watching me?" he asks. He doesn't sound happy.

"Obviously," I say. "I didn't want to interrupt you. You looked so occupied."

He clears his throat but doesn't say anything.

"Are you working on your new novel?" I ask. "The one that is coming out later this year?"

He glances at me. "I don't like to talk about work. If you don't mind."

"Oh," I say. "Sure. Sorry."

He gets up from his chair and walks over to me, placing himself next to me on the couch. I try to contain myself and not stare too much, but his upper body looks just too yummy. Buff and muscular with a hint of a six pack. He must work out a lot. His well-defined oblique muscles form the perfect shape of a V across his loose hanging pants. It is insanely sexy.

"I thought you would be sleeping for a while longer," he whispers while gently stroking my cheek with his index finger. "You don't strike me as a person who likes to get up early."

"You're correct about that," I admit. "But the daylight woke me up. Besides, I can't sleep long in strange places."

"Strange, huh," he says, smirking at me. "Please don't sneak up on me like that. I don't like it. Understand?"

His face is stern, similar to the expression he displayed last night. Only that it is even scarier when it is not in a sexual context.

"Yes, Sir," I reply. "I am sorry. I was just trying to be considerate."

"I know you were," he whispers. "But, I am not used to someone being around when I work."

"Do you work like this every morning?" I ask.

He nods. "Pretty much. I can't help it."

"It's quite enticing," I murmur. "To see you like this."

He glances at me. Still, his face doesn't look happy at all. I am beginning to think that I won't catch him write like this again anytime soon.

"Are you hungry?" He wants to know, changing the subject.

I shake my head. "I am not a big breakfast eater."

"Neither am I," he says, smiling at me. "There's something else I might be hungry for, though."

He looks at me with that same predator face he showed last night. "I think I'd like you for breakfast."

I cast him a sheepish smile. "I'd like that."

"Stand up and get rid of that robe," he orders.

"Yes, Sir."

I do as I am bidden and stand before him, completely naked. He looks at me, but this time he is not scanning my body but keeps his eyes fixated on mine.

Which, to be honest, I find a little insulting. Silly me.

"Does your ass still hurt?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No, Sir."

"What a pity," he says. "We might have to do something about that, so you don't forget about me too soon."

I gulp and remain calm on the outside, but my heart is doing its happy dance again. Yes, please!

He gets up from the couch and takes my hand. "Come."

He leads me across towards the hallway but doesn't head for the bedroom as I suspected. Instead, we enter another room to the other side. It is smaller and darker than the bedroom I woke up in, with smaller windows and dark grey furniture instead of white. There are no personal items to be seen anywhere, and the room does not give the impression that it has ever been used before. The bed in the middle is a lot smaller than the one we slept in and looks like it has been a while since someone slept in it.

He turns around to me and places his hands on my shoulders respectively. I love his height. Even at my size, he towers over me significantly, giving me the rare sensation of feeling small and vulnerable.

"I didn't think it was necessary last night," he begins. "But today you should know that I will stop at any time if it is getting too much for you."

"Okay," I whisper.

"But words like 'no' or 'stop' won't do the trick," he adds. "You might cry those out because of instinct, not because you really want me to stop."

I raise one of my eyebrows. "But isn't that what those words imply?"

"Trust me," he says. "There are times where they don't. If you want me to slow down on anything that I am doing to you, I want you to say 'yellow.' And if you want us to stop altogether, you'd have to say 'red.' Understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Those are safe words," he explains.

"I know," I say. "I have heard of those before."

"Good," he assesses. "So, what do you say?"

"Yellow to slow down. Red to stop."

"Good girl."

He plants a kiss on my forehead and turns around, leading me towards the bed in the middle of the room.

"I want you on the bed," he says. "On all fours, sideways. Your face towards the window, with your hands close to the edge of the bed."

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

I place myself on the silk sheets and stare out the window a few feet away. This view. I don't think I could ever get enough of it if I was living in a place like this.

He is rummaging around behind my back, getting something out of the dresser that is placed at the other side of the room, opposite to the window.

"Good girl," he comments as he approaches the bed. "Spread your legs a little more. Show me that beautiful ass."

I obey and feel the heat of humiliation running through my body as I present myself to him. This is so embarrassing, but his hum of approval makes it all worth it. He likes what he is seeing.

I flinch when he touches my left foot, but remain in position.

He is going to tie me up!

He fastens a piece of rope around my left ankle and attaches it to the bed post at the foot of the bed. Then he proceeds to do the same on the right side, tying my right ankle to the head of the bed. The ties are not very tight, but steady enough to keep my legs in place. They are spread apart a little, exposing my center to him, especially with my back hollowed the way it is now.

He stays behind me for a moment. I don't dare to turn around, but I am sure that he is staring at me, staring right there and enjoying the shivers that his gaze sends through me.

"Let's see if you are comfortable," he whispers.

I cringe when his hand touches me. His finger is slowly grazing along the inner side of my thighs, moving upwards until he reaches my folds. He pauses for a moment before he moves further, letting one finger slide between my legs. The sound alone is embarrassing evidence for my arousal.

"What a little slut you are," he hisses. "So wet for me already - and I haven't even done anything yet."

I blush and close my eyes.

"That's just...," I utter. "Just anticipation."

A fierce smack lands on my behind. The pain is no way as fiery as with the spanking from last night, but it still stings enough to make me gasp.

"Don't make excuses," he warns. "Or try to explain anything. This is no time for your brain to take over."

I bite my lip.

Cedric moves around the bed to the other side, placing himself in front of my face.

"Look up at me," he orders.

I do as I am told and tilt my head back as well as I can. It's straining on my neck, but I manage to get it far enough for me to make eye contact with him.

"How are you feeling?" He wants to know.

I don't know what to reply except for: "Good."

That answer seems to satisfy him. He nods and slowly gets down onto his knees so that he is on eye level with me.

"You won't be able to escape," he warns me. "But remember, there is a way out for you."