His Secret Muse: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (9 page)

"The safe words," I whisper. "I know."

He casts me a quick smile and holds up another piece of rope that he has been holding in his hand without me noticing before.

Without saying a word, he leans forward and starts tying up my wrists, fastening each of them to the respective bed post just as he has with my ankles before. There is still leeway for me to move, but the options as to where and how far are very limited now.

"I know you are a good cocksucker," he whispers. "But let's see how well you can handle it when you're not in control."

He lowers his pants, slowly exposing more of his delicious oblique muscles. His half-erected member springs free in front of my face as he loses the pants.

He starts stroking it with one hand and uses the other to grab me by the hair and pull my head back.

"Open your mouth," he orders.

I eagerly comply, and as soon as I do, he rams his hard cock into my mouth without further warning. I gag and choke on his length, but take it as good as I can, trying to prevent my teeth from hurting him.

He moves back and forth, his tip pushing against the back of my throat with every thrust. I am having trouble breathing but still manage to keep my gag reflex under control. For the time being, that is.

He suddenly withdraws and gives me a few moments to catch my breath. I cough and breathe heavily. Saliva is dropping from my lips as he pulls my head back a little further to make eye contact with me.

Instead of asking me if I was okay, he comes up with a rather surprising remark: "Beautiful."

My reply is a suffocated giggle, which he answers by shoving his cock back inside my mouth as if he was trying to make me shut up.

I wrap my lips around him while he freezes, pushing himself as deep inside me as possible. My tongue runs along the lower side of his shaft, trying to add a little extra pleasure. But there is not much that I can do with him this deep inside my throat.

He still enjoys it. His entire length is rock hard. Two, three more thrusts, and he removes himself again.

"Good girl," he praises. "You took that very well."

"Thank you, Sir," I breathe, followed by another saliva soaked cough.

"But I am still unhappy about you sneaking up on me this morning," he adds.

My eyes flicker. Of course, he would always find something to punish me for. I just seem to make it so easy for him.

"That deserves a little punishment," he continues. "Don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir," I whisper, lowering my head so he cannot see the smile on my face.

He moves around to the other side of the bed, and before I know it, his hand is back there again, reaching between my wet folds and teasing my clit. I moan.

"Don't get too comfortable here," he warns. "You didn't think me spoiling your cute pussy would be your punishment now, did you?"

"No, Sir," I reply.

He steps back and fetches something from somewhere behind me. I lower my head with my eyes closed. My entire body shivers with anticipation.

It gets worse when I can feel the leather on my skin. A belt, I assume. He places it on my upper back and slowly moves it down along my spine, softly patting my behind when he gets there.

Even this soft touch causes me to flinch. I am drunk with tension.

He lets the belt rest on my left ass cheek for a few moments and then withdraws it with a quick, unexpected motion.

I yelp, expecting the first strike to happen right after that.

But it doesn't.

"What was that, little girl?" he asks, followed by a little chuckle. "I haven't even started yet!"

I bite my lip to prevent myself from saying anything that could possibly get me in even more trouble.

A few more moments pass, with me shivering and whimpering with expectation in front of him.

The cry I let out during the first blow is disproportionate to the pain it causes. It hurts, but not as bad as my shriek suggests.

The second one is worse.

And the third.

The fourth causes me to whimper long after it is over.

Every new blow tops the one from before in regard to pain intensity. The belt is far worse than his hand had been the night before, and I know we are just getting started.

He pauses after the fourth blow, his eyes resting on me.

"Do you think we are done?" he asks.

"No, Sir."

"That's right," he hisses.

Another round of literally breathtaking strikes comes down on my behind. The pauses between them are a lot shorter now, barely giving me enough time to process the pain before the next one hits. They grow in ferocity, and my skin becomes sorer with every single one of them.

Tears are running down my face as I cope with the burning pain that each blows adds to my already shaken state. I am breaking a sweat, trembling and crying while he continues to torture the skin on my poor behind.

Then he stops.

I am weeping and panting but maintain my position on all fours. It is only now that I realize I never even tried to get away. Of course, I am tied up. But there would have been ways for me to try to evade the belt - if I had wanted to.

He doesn't say a word and just observes me for a few moments while the stinging pain on my ass slowly turns into a throbbing afterglow. It is such a release, almost as good as an orgasm itself.

My eyes are closed, and I don't move when I notice him climbing on the bed behind me. He doesn't waste another second but teases my entrance with his hard tip right away. 

I instinctively lean back, inviting him in. 

Luckily, he doesn't make wait much longer this time. He rams himself inside of me with the same force that he used on my mouth before. 

My eyes roll back into my head, and I groan with pleasure while he fucks that last bit of remaining strain out of me.

I squint sleepily. It is the second time that I am waking up in this apartment. But this time he is with me, holding me in a tight embrace. I snuggle into him and let out a sigh of relaxation.

"How are you feeling?" He whispers.

"Good," I reply without looking at him.

"Just good?"

"Very good," I correct. "Spectacular indeed."

He chuckles.

"That's more like it."

We are still on the bed that we played on. In the darkish grey room that I hadn't been aware of before.

"Is this your extra room?" I ask. "The one I would have slept in?"

"Yes," he says. "It also serves as a playroom."

I frown.

"Have you played with others in here before?" I want to know. "I thought you were only staying here for a few days?"

He laughs.

"Jealous, huh?" He muses. "I love it."

"Well, have you?" I press.

"No, Renee. Not here," he says. "As you have pointed out. It's only been a few days here for me."

Neither of us says anything for a while. My heart is beating loudly. I really am jealous. How silly. One night with him, and I am already beginning to feel possessive.

That's another first for me. I never cared about what my former flings might have been up to, and with whom.

"Do you have to be anywhere today?" he wants to know.

I ponder for a moment. Actually, no. The only date I had for this weekend was a long session with my Playstation and a new ego shooter I have finally allowed myself to buy. 

But of course, I am not going to share that particular detail with him.

"No," I say. "I have no social life."

Smooth, girl. That will make him realize how super cool I really am...

He doesn't grant me with any kind of reaction, but just gently skims my arm with the tip of his fingers. 

It hasn't been long since I climaxed beneath him, with my hands and feet tied to the bedposts. Yet, this sensual brush makes me quiver with yearning for him.

"You must be hungry," he assumes.

I really am. We didn't have any breakfast by choice, but by now my stomach was growling with hunger.

"A little," I whisper, trying to sound like a lady.

"You know I hate it when you're lying," he warns me.

"Okay," I say. "I am starving!"

"That's a good girl," he praises, planting a loving kiss on my forehead. A girlish smirk appears on my face as he does it.

"I would like to take you out for lunch," he declares. "But given the situation, that would not be a smart move."

"Are you being followed at all times?" I ask. 

It is meant to be a joke, because, of course, he isn't. He is just being super cautious, for my sake just as well as his own.

"More than usual at the moment, yes," he says. "After that reading last week and another few press appointments, people have been pestering me not only about my new novel but also about me mentioning my move here."

"You mentioned you grew up in this area?" I ask.

"Yes," he says, sounding angry. "And that is exactly the kind of question I don't want to hear right now."

"Sorry," I murmur.

He is really is particular when it comes to certain things. Anything that has to do with him. Anything personal, it seems.

"Would you mind having lunch with me? Here?" he asks. "I could order something for us. Anything you want."

I look up at him. "Are you sure?"

He smiles down at me. 

I hadn't noticed before, but he is sporting the cutest bedhead right now. His edgy, dark hair is ruffled and fleeing from his head in all sorts of directions. He looks so different from the person he was on stage, or even the man who greeted me in the sunroom last night. 

Both versions are endearing to me.

Even after this short time I can hardly remember the person I was just a little more than a week ago. The person who was dragged to a boring reading event by her best friend. The person who didn't care for this obscure Cedric Crow character that so many readers adore.

The person who still hasn't finished a single book by him. I feel almost ashamed about it now.

I am determined to change that. As soon as I get back home.

Whenever that will be.

"Of course, I am sure," he interrupts my stream of thought. "Why would I ask you if I wasn't."

"To be nice," I blurt out.

He raises his eyebrows. "Why would I be nice to you?"

"Um, I don't know-"

"To get you into bed?" he interrupts. "In case you haven't noticed, that already happened. So, please, just let me know what you are in the mood for."

I look at him quizzically.

"Food," he clarifies. "What would you like to eat?"

Pizza
, my head yells. Oh, I am craving a giant, greasy pizza with cheese filled crust. The perfect after-sex food.

But not a very elegant lunch choice when you're with a classy billionaire writer in his fancy getaway penthouse.

"Um, maybe I should just go home," I murmur.

Pizza and sweatpants do sound quite enticing at the moment. And I could catch up on that Playstation date...

"Why?" He wants to know. "Didn't you just say that you're starving?"

I smirk up at him. "Yeah, but I can eat by myself. I have done it before, you know."

His eyes narrow as he looks back at me.

"You see, I am only going to be in town until tomorrow," he says. "I don't know when I will be back. But I would really like to spend as much time with you as possible while I am still here."

My eyes widen with disbelief.

"Why?" I gasp, sounding just as dumb as you would think of someone who is replying to sweet words with such a silly question.

He looks at me with a smug smile and traces along the skin above my boobs with the tip of his index finger.

"You should get used to the idea that I like you," he whispers. "I like spending time with you."

I let out a girly chuckle. "Charmer."

"So, what are you in the mood for?" he repeats his query. "Food wise."

"You're not even giving me the option to go home?" I retort.

"No. I can't let you have that choice right now," he breathes, shaking his head. "I am not done with you yet."

I sigh. As intimidating and possessive as his remark is, I cannot help but feel seduced by it. To be wanted like this is deliciously agitating.

It gives me the confidence to be honest about my cravings.

"Pizza?" I whisper. "I could really go for pizza..."

"That sounds great," he whispers.

He grabs me by the side and leans over. His lips find mine with surprising intuition. He is claiming me with force, his grip tightening around me while he positions himself on top of me. Both of us are still naked, lying skin on skin while our bodies crave each other.

His hand wanders down to my hip and gently pushes it up against his. I can feel him harden between my legs and instinctively spread them for him.

He moans and lifts both my arms up above my head.

"I should tie you up like this and fuck you silly," he breathes.

"Why don't you?" I reply, breathing heavily with excitement. 

He squints at me. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," I hiss.

I convolve beneath him, eagerly rubbing my pelvis against his hardening member.

"Good," he whispers. He plants an innocent kiss on my forehead. "I like you wet and hungry for me."

And with that, he lets me go and rolls over, climbing out of bed so quickly that I don't even get a chance to hold him back.

The sight of his hard cock on that buff, tempting body of his doesn't exactly help matters.

He fetches his pants and quickly jumps into them, while I remain on the bed, naked and in heat. My cheeks blush with arousal, and I am still breathing heavily.

"Let's order that pizza," he suggests, offering me his hand to get out of bed.

I frown at him. "God, you're mean."

He grins. "I know."

I reject his offer and climb out of bed by myself.

"Where are my clothes?" I ask, realizing that I haven't worn any all day. I was pretty much naked when I woke up, and I never put on anything but the robe after my shower.

"You don't need clothes," he replies. "The robe should be enough for now."

I cast him a skeptical look. "Please. I would really like to wear... something."

He shrugs. "No."

I gasp with indignation, which causes the smug smile on his face to grow even wider.

"Come," he says, taking my hand to lead me out of the room. "I am starving, too. That pizza sounds perfect right now."