Taming Graeme (Taming the Billionaire) (38 page)

 
He hadn’t said he loved her. He’d said she was his pet, his prized possession.

 
If that was all Graeme wanted to give, she’d try and be grateful for that, try not to long for his love. She’d grown up without love, she was used to not being loved. And she was grateful. She knew that he hadn’t taken any precautions with her, so he must have wanted her pregnant from the start.

 
Her, not Francine. Her, Olivia Stone.

 
And he knew who Olivia Stone was when he seduced her. He’d known her for seven months, after all, and his eyes and ears missed nothing at the Bank or anywhere else, so yes, he’d chosen her to be the mother of his child. Children. So she would hold her head high, and be proud that she was his, what was the current buzz word, yes,
his baby mommy
. She’d ignore the sly looks and the gossip behind her back.

 
Their relationship had shifted. Oh, he was still her Dom, still making all the decisions, but it seemed more
normal
now.

 
Or maybe she was just used to it now, and it was her new normal?

 
He talked to her as if he respected her opinion, at least about the administrative issues surrounding the Currency Trading Department‘s reporting woes. He was proud of her accomplishments, why he’d sent her over here to help him with a big mess!

 
Or perhaps she was just used to it now, and nothing had changed?

 
And the sex, well, they made love as much in the bed now as playing in his training room. Made love? Not really, because it took two to make love. They had sex, that was more accurate.

 
He didn’t use all the whips and crops and canes the books were full of, although he did tie her up in the most delightful ways, but often, often, the sex was vanilla, and vanilla was a wonderful taste. But surely most BSDSM couples had regular sex often, and played out their scenarios frequently, but had regular sex in between? She knew from comments Linda had made that was case with her friend and Michael.

 
Olivia loved their baths together, and she loved how forceful Graeme was, how manly. Oh, how she loved him...well, she could pretend to herself that he loved her back, as long as she remembered it was pretend...Olivia slept.

TWENTY THREE

 
He woke her in the morning with a tray that held weak black te
a
and dry toast. He cuddled her and fed her bites of the toast, and her nausea eased. He moved the tray and climbed back in beside her, and held her, and they went back to sleep.

 
He took her shopping after lunch, to the shop where she’d bought her wonderful blue dinner dress, and he bought her not one but two winter coats, one for work and one to wear when she was going somewhere special.

 
The same sales lady bowed and scraped when she walked in with Graeme. Of course she was wearing her Armani this time, trousers and that soft, classy laser cut leather jacket, not cheap jeans and a pullover she’d knit herself.

 
The work coat was black wool, with a quilted lining that zipped out, and he bought her black boots with a sensible heel, boots that came to just below her knee, and black leather gloves, and a really good umbrella.

 
The dressy coat was also black but it was soft, soft suede, and lined in black fur, mink he said, and he wouldn’t let her see the price.

.
“Think of wearing this coat naked. Think of how decadent, how erotic, how aroused you’ll feel when I take you out somewhere naked under this coat.”

 
“My panties are soaked, just listening to you talk about it,” she told him softly.

 
They smiled into each other’s eyes, and it was easy to pretend that the lust in his eyes was love for her.

 
Then he bought her dresses, five dresses, one for every day of the week, all wool, black, blue, burgundy, slate grey and forest green. They were all by different designers, but had long sleeves, to keep her warm he told her.

 
“And high necks to hide my love bites,” he murmured into her ear, making her laugh.

 
All were high waisted, with generous skirts. All would hide her baby bump in the late months of autumn and the beginning of winter. By then, by the time she was really obviously pregnant, she would be on a leave of absence, he’d told John Taylor.

 
At least he didn’t expect her to work at the Bank as she grew larger and heavier. He didn’t expect her to sit at the Trading Desk, the subject of snide glances and gossip...

 
He bought her a Chanel suit that she could enjoy wearing now, for a few weeks anyway, with a wonderful white silk shirt, and some new designer jeans, some tee shirts and some cashmere cardigans. There was a very upscale shoe salon next door, and he guided her in there and spent some more money.  He bought her some new trainers and several pairs of dressy shoes with a sensible heel, to wear with her dresses and two pair of walking shoes that he said they’d leave here in Belfast, with her jeans, the designer tee shirts and a couple of the cardigans, to wear on their walks along those country lanes most weekends when he planned they would make the trip over.

 
That night he took her into the training room, and he laid her on the bed, and fastened her ankles and her wrists to a spreader bar as they both loved him to, and he forced her legs open, wide open, and he sat on the end of the bed for a long time, just looking at her. She felt so vulnerable and exposed, but at the same time, she basked in his lascivious smile as he enjoyed looking at her so intimately.

 
“So beautiful, ‘Livi, so very beautiful. I could look at you like this all day,” he said, awe in his voice. And then he traced his forefinger lightly up her calf, and her inner thigh, and he traced her labia, and reached down and spread her wider yet, and then he played with her clit, flicking it, rubbing it, squeezing it lightly until her lips engorged, and her juices were running down the crack in her bum, and he leaned over, and casually licked her wetness up, and then his tongue was stroking her clit, and then it was licking the length of her sex, from front to back, all the way to her rosebud, and then it darted into her, and his hands were on her thighs as he sucked up the liquid her arousal was creating, and he teased her, using only his lips and his teeth and his tongue until she shattered into a thousand pieces...and he leaned up and kissed her mouth, so that she would taste what had given him such great satisfaction.

 
And before her quivering stopped, he grasped the bar and flipped her over, and she was on her knees now, and her ass was up in the air, and her head was down on the bed...and again, he looked, just looked for a long, long time, and then she felt his finger languidly tracing her sex, dipping into her, and drawing the wetness up, up to her rosebud, and her breath caught as his thumb pushed past that tight ring and played with her, in and out, in and out, and then she felt a drop of cold gel, and she knew he was coating his cock, and then that throbbing head was against her ring, and he was pushing in, and she was pushing toward him, and then he was through, and filling her so completely...

 
“Christ, ‘Livi, you’re tight tonight. Oh, baby, I love it. Hot and tight, the best ass I’ve ever owned, ‘Livi, and it’s mine, only mine. I own it, ‘Livi, and I own you! Move now, baby, let’s go! He started to thrust now, hard and fast, and his balls were slapping against her, and she felt as if he was deeper than he’d ever been, deeper and bigger and he was coming now and coming and coming and so was she! Oh goodness...Ohmygod...omygoodness....

 
They stayed in the bath a long time that night, until the water grew cool, Olivia lying back against him, his legs around her, hooking her knees far apart so that she was open to his touch, and he played with her for over an hour in the bath, teasing her clit, pushing one, two, then three fingers inside her, finding her sweet spot, making her reach the edge of orgasm again and again but never letting her come until finally, finally her quivers were allowed to grow and grow and contract around his fingers and she climaxed as he bit her ear lobe, and made those wet circles on her neck, those wet circles that marked her as his woman.

TWENTY FOUR

  It was cold and rainy Sunda
y
. She woke feeling sick, so sick. He’d gone downstairs to fetch the tea and toast, but she knew she was going to vomit, and she barely made it to the toilet, and knelt, grabbing the porcelain bowl before everything started to heave...

 
“Baby, where are you?” he called and came into the bathroom, and held her head until she’d finished being sick, and then he held her and bathed her face with warm water and kissed her hair, and found her some mouthwash...

 
“I don’t want to leave you here on your own, baby. I had no idea that morning sickness was this bad...”

 
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “Mrs. Green will look after me.”

 
“No, baby, no. I’m staying.”

 
“How can you? You have commitments in London.”

 
He walked over to the dresser and checked the calendar on his mobile.

 
“I have to be in London Wednesday morning at eleven. I can commandeer a desk at the Bank and run everything from here until then. If Danny’s as good as you think he is, he can be on his own from Wednesday on. We’ll fly back Tuesday evening. I’m sure with Danny’s help you can finish the job from London, maybe come back next Friday and we’ll have the weekend here again. I can help you for a few hours and that should move things along. Now, let’s climb back into bed and drink our tea, and cuddle.”

 
They spent the day inside, mostly in the study. Graeme was on the computer a lot, and Olivia worked diligently on her course. It was more important than ever now to get it finished quickly and do well.

 
She needed Trading Desk experience, so that she would be able to get a job elsewhere as a Currency Trader once Graeme decided to end the relationship.

 
He might think one baby enough, once it was born, if it was a boy. He’d have the heir she was sure he wanted. She wouldn’t be able to continue at Browning’s Mercantile Bank after the baby came. He wouldn’t want her there. She wouldn’t want to be there.

 
No, she’d have to have a job elsewhere and traders were paid very well, very well indeed. She’d be able to retain a solicitor and negotiate generous visiting rights for her baby, because she knew Graeme would insist on custody, he insisted on control over everything. Her dreams of joint custody were just that, dreams.

 
But if she had a trading job, she would have a future. She’d even be able to afford to buy a small two bedroom flat in a decent area, so that she could have the baby stay overnight sometimes, when Graeme would allow. He was out of the country a lot. Perhaps he’d let her have the baby to visit then, with its nanny no doubt. Or he’d let her stay at the townhouse while he was away...

 
So she had her head bent over the course materials most of the day.

 
She didn’t see Graeme researching morning sicknes
s
on the computer. She didn’t see him looking for maternity clothes on line, and ordering her a complete wardrobe from an upscale outlet. She didn’t see him researching baby doctors and hospitals for the birth. She didn’t see him looking at nursery furniture. She didn’t see him looking at real estate, for a house, one with the nursery, nanny’s quarters and playroom he had grown up with and assumed every child needed.

 
She didn’t see him smiling tenderly at her bent head every time he looked up from the screen.

 
She just made herself focus and finish the seventh and eighth lessons.

 
She didn’t see him leave the room and head up the stairs to their bedroom.   She certainly didn’t see him find her handbag, and take out the key for her bed sitter and slip it into his pocket.

 
She didn’t see him take an envelope out of his desk, slip the key inside and then go and find James, give him the envelope and instruct him to get it couriered straight over to London. She didn’t see him email Gideon, and instruct the Head of the Bank’s Security Department to go personally to her shabby bed sitter and remove the few clothes and personal belongings from Hackney and take them to the Knightsbridge townhouse. She didn’t see him email his housekeeper, and instruct her to hang those clothes with Olivia’s other things in his wardrobe, and to put the box of her bits and pieces in the small sitting room, unopened, so that Olivia could go through them at her leisure.

 
She finished Lesson Eight just before dinner, and she felt his hands massaging her shoulders, his lips brushing her hair.

 
“You’ve really worked hard today, pet. I wanted to make you stop, but I know how much you want to get this course finished. I think we’ll go through the staff files, baby, when we get back on Wednesday and see who you’d like to train to take over the administration duties you’ve been handling so brilliantly. If you can finish the course by the weekend, John can even put you on the desk full time pending your exam and the results. Part of your training. He’ll need you, with Joe and Robin over here.”