Locked Out (Locked In Love, an Alpha Billionaire Serial)(Volume 2) (6 page)

That makes me nervous. I know about people showing half-truths.

They’re called liars.

The auction winds down and people file out. I see the Auctioneer and his crew making plans with the winners and Bryce Hollins exits, heading toward his own safe. Checking his own business?

Locke’s disappeared from view. I catch him again on another screen, heading down a hallway.  Soon after, Ben mumbles something behind me. I look and see he’s communicating into a walkie talkie.

The door to the control room swings open, and there’s Locke. All the anger is still swirling in his eyes, but his shoulders and hands are relaxed.

I’m impressed. When people are angry about something, there are a list of ‘tells’ on their body. Hands clenching to fists. Knees locking instead of relaxed. The muscles in the jaw flex under the skin because of clenching and grinding. And the eyebrows pull together and down-- the forehead’s way of frowning, even if the mouth isn’t.

Jameson has
none
of these tells. His hands are relaxed, his knees and posture at ease. He’s smiling, his jaw rugged, cut-- but not clenched. And his forehead is relaxed. Maybe even lifted a little, like he’s sharing a joke.

His eyes, though, those he can’t mask. I can see the swirl and darkness of rage. He’s a hurricane inside.

Note to self: Jameson is not just a liar. He’s an expert deceiver.

“Well, that went okay, I think!” He says, clapping Ben on the shoulder.

“What did you tell them?” My gaze moves back to the screens, watching people exit. Reaching in my back pocket, I pull out my phone and check the time, too. It’s a little after nine. The whole affair took four hours. “About the ruby?”

“That the offer to sell was rescinded due to a generous donation made to the museum.” There’s an edge in his voice.

“I’m guessing you’re the philanthropist keeping it open?”

“Astute as always, Elise.”

“But the ruby is still missing.”

“That it is.”

He and Ben exchange some more murmurs and Ben quietly exits, probably to oversee the guests’ departures.

As soon as the door closes, Locke’s lips are pressed on my neck and his hand is sliding down the V of my t-shirt to grab a breast. My nipple puckers immediately and I gasp. “Locke, no,” I strain. “We can’t do this.”

He’s massaging my breast, plucking at the nipple, and my pussy is wet. This is more action than I’ve had in
years
. You’d think that being fucked so much in so little time would sate me, but the opposite is true. It’s as if each time Jameson touches me, he flames me hotter. Creates a deeper, darker well of desire in me.

I shake my head but lean back into his touch. His teeth graze my neck, his tongue pressing into my pulse point. “I can taste your excitement,” he growls, and I clench my thighs against the surge of need. “You don’t know what you to do me, Elise.”

I don’t know what I do to him!? What about what he’s doing to me?
Grabbing his wrist, I pull his hand from my shirt with great reluctance. “Locke, I mean it. I’m on the job now. Earlier, in the safe? That was a mistake. You’re my employer now, and I can’t sleep with people who pay me. It blurs lines and makes sex something it shouldn’t be.”

“Like what?”

“Like an obligation.”

His face draws at that, and I see he gets it. I like sex. I have been loving sex with Locke, even if it leaves me more confused than ever after. But I don’t ever want to feel like I have to have sex with him because he’s paying me.

“Let me pay you, then, now.” He finds a drawer and pulls out a checkbook and starts writing. “I give you this, I’m no longer your employer, and you let me tie you up and fuck you because Elise, I need to be buried in you right now.”

His words are like a cannon, striking me dead center. My whole body is short circuiting. When he said “tie you up” I wonder if someone can come just from words alone.

“Stop, Locke, it doesn’t work like that--”

“Why the fuck not?” Now that anger is showing a little. He’s working hard to conceal it, but Locke truly is a man who doesn’t seem to hear ‘no’ often.

“Because I haven’t solved the case.”

“I didn’t hire you to solve a case. I hired you to protect me from thieves, and in that, technically you failed.”

A memory of the Man in Black pawing viciously strikes. My fear must flit across my features because instantly Locke is in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his features apologetic. “I didn’t mean it like that, Elise. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, you’re right,” I sigh. “It was yours, for playing whatever dumb game you’re playing. You invited them in and then have the audacity to be upset when they succeed!” He frowns but doesn’t argue, so I push. “You put all your guests, Ben, everyone at risk. He had a gun!”

Locke’s eyes are glazed. He’s somewhere else. “Ben can handle himself, don’t worry. And you’re wrong. It wasn’t just my security that was breached tonight. It was etiquette, and--” His blue eyes focus again, crisp. “Nevermind. The point is, I didn’t hire you to find the missing ruby, and I’m not going to.”

“You’re just going to pay me, then tie me up and fuck me?” My voice waivers and I hate it, because it sounds like I might cry. I don’t even know why, and it embarrasses me. So what? He’s arguing semantics, but it’s true-- he didn’t hire me for the ruby.

“Only if you want me to,” he gently offers.

“I want to get paid, asshole. Don’t scrimp now.”

His lips tug into a smile. “Of course. And the rest?”

Do I want it? Hell yes. My pussy is already throbbing and I think about his eyes when he first took off the blindfold. The way he drank in my body, tied tight and vulnerable. They held promise of pleasure I was having difficulty imagining… but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious.

“Okay.”

He grabs my hand and heads toward the door.

“Now?” I squeal. “Don’t you have things you need to oversee?”

“My staff can take care of it. Come.”

Even though it isn’t what he means, I almost do, my body trembling in anticipation as I follow him.

Locke

Having Elise in this room, in my sanctuary, is gnawing at me. Once again she’s taking in all my tools, the eyebolts, the promises I’ve shelved of pain and pleasure. Of control. No longer shaking from her attack, in her signature jeans and shoes, she seems bolder. Her shoulders are straighter, pulled back, and her eyes are hungry instead of scared.

It makes my stomach clench.

I’ve never experienced this before. Is it nervousness? Anxiety?

No. I refuse to believe that. This is
my
realm, my world. She’s not the first to be in here. But it feels different, regardless.

Rolling my shoulders, I shake it off as residual emotions from her attack and the ruby. I need to be honest with her. At least about this.
“Elise, before I touch you, I want you to know that I’m… frustrated right now. Someone hurt you in my home, someone stole from me, and it’s left me feeling--”

“Vulnerable?” She offers.

Yes. “No. Pissed off. So I won’t be using any of the things in here on you. Just rope. And I want you to feel safe, so think of a word you can say if things get too intense for you-- What?” Her eyebrow is crooked and she’s smiling.

“You,” is the only answer she offers. “And Ruben.”

“Ruben?”

“From Paul Ruben. The painter.”

I take in her figure, soft and rounded, and appreciate her humor. She is rubenesque, her creamy skin as luminescent as one of his three Graces, her hips curves any brush would be eager to recreate. “Okay.”

I’m grabbing the silken rope from its drawer when she says, “Thanks, Locke. For thinking of me.”

“I’ve been thinking about you since the moment you crashed into me in the Chief’s office.” My words are heated, more than I even intended, but they’re true. Elise has been in my thoughts relentlessly. She flushes at my words, her eyes downcast. “Now take off your clothes.”

As she strips, I push a button on a wall. The side panels release, and a bed unfolds. “That’s awesome!” Elise cries as it descends. “But also ostentatious. Why not just put a bed in here?”

I pin her with my eyes. “Because I don’t usually want to take women to bed, Elise.”

She bites her lip. “Oh.”

“Come here.”

She pads over, her body shaking in the sexiest ways, and my cock is hard as a crowbar. Gently, I lay her on the bed, crawling over her, letting her feel the weight of my body as I drape over her. My mouth finds hers.

I claim her in a kiss, tongue pushing in, probing her mouth. She opens for me, my inhale catching her moan.

I can smell her desire, salty and rich. My hand slides down her belly, caressing a hip, before grabbing her ass and pulling her tight against me. My erection rubs her pussy and she mewls like a kitten.

Slowly, I lift myself up, whispering kisses and dark promises down her neck, her clavicle, in between her breasts.

“I’m going to tie you up now.”

Elise nods. Her brown hair is spilling below her head on the mattress. It shines in the soft light. Her eyes are hooded, the blue deepening with her lust. Her lips are red from being kissed so hard, plump and inviting, and it is hard to not just dive down to claim them again.

Her body is pliant, and I bend one of her legs, tucking her heel in next to her ass. With care, I twine the rope around her legs, slipping it between thigh and calf and back around. It’s snug but not tight enough to bite into her skin. When she’s bound from knee to ankle, I tie it off.

I quickly do the other leg the same way. When I’m finished, I lean back and take in my handiwork.

Elise is stunning. Her legs are immobile now, knees falling open and exposing her glistening pink pussy.

“You look incredible,” I breathe. “Are you comfortable?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “No, but I’m incredibly turned on right now.”

Pleasure courses through me. I’m used to submissives who’re quiet. Compliant. They’d never tell me that they weren’t comfortable, too afraid of crossing me. Elise, though, is perpetually honest. She’ll say what she needs to, whether or not she thinks I want to hear it.

Something raw opens in my chest. Is this why I find her so fascinating? Her honesty?

“One final touch. Give me your hands.” She does, and I bind her wrist. “Hold them above your head, Elise. Don’t let them down,” I warn.

She does, and the end result takes my breath away. Her bound wrists are draped lazily above her head, forcing her gorgeous round tits up in the air. I know that the weight of her tied legs is beginning to pull, stretching the muscles of her inner legs. Her thighs are already quivering from the effort.

Elise writhes her hips. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

I give her a steeled look. “You aren’t in control here, Elise. I’ll do what I want, when I want it.”

“Then I’ll say the word,” she fires back.

This gets my attention. “Listen to me. That word is a binding agreement. If you say it, I’ll take you out of the restraints immediately. It is
only
for if you are no longer feeling safe. It is
never
to be used as a tool to manipulate me.”

“But you get to manipulate me!” Her eyebrows press together.

I nod. “This isn’t about hurting you, Elise. I don’t get off on the pain, though I certainly enjoy the sounds you’ll make if we ever venture there. I get off on the power. I want you to
submit
to me. Entirely. I want you to give yourself freely to my every whim. So if I want to take my time, I will. If I decide not to fuck you, I won’t. You don’t get a say.”

“That sounds miserable.”

A smile graces my lips. “That’s because you don’t understand yet.”

My fingertips begin to dust across her skin, teasing lightly next to the lattice created by the ropes. I drag them across her velvet skin, just enough pressure to know she feels it. They inch in swirling designs close to her pussy, hovering just above the quivering, inviting flesh, before moving up to her belly.

Elise moans  in frustration. I ignore her. I touch all of her belly and her hips, tracing designs into her skin. It erupts in goose bumps. Her chest is heaving, her breathing ragged gasps. I brush the undersides of her tits before circling up to the peaks of her nipples.

Songs could be written just about her nipples. Large, moon like. Their petal pink color like a sugared rose petal or cherry blossoms. Pinching them between my thumbs and forefingers, I begin to pull. They tug out, her breasts reluctantly following. I pull until she cries out, pinching them hard. I know she feels it. I can see the pain etched on her features as I twist and manipulate the sensitive buds.

Her hips tell a different story. They’re rolling, her knees flopping further open. Elise’s abs tighten and she’s lifting her pussy unconsciously in a bid to make me fuck her. Her nipples are on fire, I know, but her pussy is calling to me. She loves the pain, loves how it electrifies everything else.

I release her brutalized nipples and she falls back into the mattress, tears dropping from her eyes into her hair.

Gripping her tits in my hands, I squeeze them and lower my mouth to the ultra-sensitive nipples, sucking one deep into my mouth. Elise cries out as I suck hard, tongue thrashing her nipple. I work back and forth between her breasts, squeezing, sucking, squeezing, pressing them together, pinching her nipples, tugging them--

It isn’t just that I love this woman’s breasts, though I do, and this worship comes as naturally as breathing. It also isn’t that I have amazing restraint, or don’t want to be buried balls deep into her pussy, or her ass. Oh god, I do. I want to be fucking her hard. It’s that I need this. Each torment, each slow draw on her nipples, each cry as I squeeze or pinch, is another step toward being in control.

Elise is mine. She’s spread below me and I’m just touching her breasts, but she’s crazy for me. She hasn’t said her safe word. Her pussy is so wet I can see it slicking down toward her ass, her arousal flooding just for me. Each moment I wait, each moment I draw this out, I take away her thoughts and move her to toward the place where it’s just sensation.

I’m going to make Elise one, giant nerve. Then I’m going to send her over the edge.

I release her breasts and stand, stripping. My cock is so hard it points to the ceiling. My balls
ache
with the need to spill my seed in her.

She’s ready. Her hungry eyes are on my cock and when she licks her lips, it twitches in response. I can see the delight in her gaze.

I’m going to punish her for that.

Putting my knees on either side of her head, my cock is in her face. Elise’s eyes are wide and red. My rough, prolonged treatment of her nipples made her cry and I start to worry until her tongue darts out, dragging along the underside of my cock.

“Fuck!” I slam a palm against the wall that holds the bed, trying to keep my body under control. Lowering myself, I growl, “Open.”

She does, and I plunge my cock into her willing mouth.

Fucking a woman’s mouth has to be one of my favorite activities. Almost as good as fucking her pussy, or her ass. Or, well-- I love it all. Elise’s mouth is relaxed and she’s taking my length like a champ. I know this angle is difficult. My body is pressed close to her nose. I have a grip on her hands to keep them from moving.

I grunt as I fuck her face, “Squeeze your fists if you need me to stop.”

They release, fingers going slack. She wants this. She wants to gobble my cock and fuck if that isn’t the biggest turn on. Elise is wild, adventurous. She’s just never had the opportunity. Knowing I have a virgin to the lifestyle underneath me, choking on my thick cock? It makes me think all sorts of nasty things.

I was going to pound her pussy, but I don’t want to wait. My hips speed up. Elise is grunting, gagging as my cock beats at the back of her throat. It can’t feel good for her. But her fingers do this little wave at me, like she’s fucking teasing me, and I roar as I come in her mouth.

She coughs around my dick, but then I feel her mouth and throat swallowing my load while my cock is still in her mouth.

When I’m spent, I pull out and move off her face. Her nostrils flare with deep, grateful breaths. There is a trickle of blood on the side of her mouth and instantly I freeze with guilt. I’ve got a big cock and I just shoved it in her mouth, fucking her like she was a doll. She let me! Did I go too far? Is she okay?

Elise winks and licks the blood away. “Is that all you got?” Her voice is cracked, rough from the punishment her throat just received. Her words thrill me.

You can never let this one go. She’s worth more than all the art and jewels in the world
.

She deserved something good. Extra good. Leaving her on the bed, I tell her to wait. On one of my shelves is a Hitachi. I’ve known doms who didn’t want to use vibrators. They figured if they were doing something right, they wouldn’t need them.

They’re dumb as shit. There’s a reason married women keep vibrators in their drawers, despite having a willing cock in bed next to them.

Because the orgasm they produce is worth it.

I’ve got no shame. I know I can make Elise come with just a touch. I don’t want her to come. I want her to fucking shatter to pieces.

She eyes the toy appreciatively as I return. “Don’t talk,” I order.

Then I get to work.