To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) (3 page)

“Let me tell you what you're going to do.”

I was too enthralled to do more than listen, gladly giving over control.

“You're going to turn that hot little ass of yours back around, go to the window, put both hands on the glass-” He paused, knowing I was riveted. Holding on to ever word. “Then get comfortable, love, because it's been way too long since I've spanked you.”

I clasped a hand to my mouth to stifle the glee that fell from my lips. Scattered pieces of my squeal broke free and even with the specks of light, I could make out his arched brow. It was quickly followed by his crystal blue eyes freezing over. It made me swallow the confetti happiness, remembering that this treat had edges. This wouldn't be a playful smack on the butt, quickly followed by romance novel approved sex.

This was gonna hurt.

This time, I didn't spin like a horny ballerina, I slowly pivoted. The room was so quiet I swore I heard the hardwood floors sigh. There was only a few steps until I reached my destination and I made every one count. I focused on my reflection because I knew if I looked at him, I'd start shaking. I’d get self conscious under his hot gaze, wondering what shade of red he was gunning for.

My reflection didn't help much either. My curls rioted against the bun I’d forced them into. I tugged my hair loose, flexing my wrists before I leaned forward slightly, my hands shoulder width apart. This close, my face told a totally different story from the nerves that were dancing in my stomach. My eyes were hooded, the deep chocolate hue the very color of sin. My nostrils flared with every breath I took. My cheeks were flushed with want. With a need that consumed me. My lips trembled with a curiosity of my own. Would he make me count out the strikes or be silent unless I needed to say red? The not knowing, giving up all control, going to a place where my responses were reduced to yes and no sir, colors, and moans, added to the thrill that coursed through me.

Wetting my lips and finding the right angle to obey the comfortable part in his command, I gazed out at the water and felt the pull of lust rocking through me. My eyes fluttered closed as he advanced toward me, anticipating his next command.

“No need for that.”

My eyes flew open when something soft and silky brushed against my cheek. I knew what it was immediately.

A blindfold.

Just the tactile sensation of the blindfold against my skin was enough to make a moan rise in my throat. The jolt when he secured it, his fingertips brushing my cheekbones before resting on my shoulders, made me tremble with desire. Taking away my sight intensified everything else. I felt his touch like whispers on my bones. I felt my heart racing beneath my skin. Pleasure would sing and the pain would bloom, the two opposing sensations taking hold and creating something uniquely ours.

He swept his fingers along my shoulders, kneading my muscles gently. The stark contrast between his touch and the richness of his voice turned my skin into gooseflesh.

“You are not to utter a single sound, or you'll be punished.” He drew his touch from my shoulders downward, pausing at the small of my back. “As always, 'red' will bring anything to a halt, if necessary. Understood?”

The only thing I could see was darkness, but I had a feeling if I could steal a peek at my face, it would be scrunched in confusion. “Yes sir, but does that mean-oh my god!”

My right cheek exploded in a sea of pin pricks, his first strike rippling over me. Snatching the rest of my words right out of my mouth and giving me the only thing that mattered.

We had begun.

~

“N
ow that you know what I mean by no sound, and what happens when you disobey, are you ready to proceed?”

The stirring in my core said 'hell yeah', my lips close behind. I clamped them together, realizing I was about to earn myself another lick. I couldn't see anything beyond the black, but I knew his hand was poised above my bottom, fingertips tingling, anticipating my slip.

He knew me well.

Smiling, I nestled my chin against my shoulder. I still had a surprise or two up my sleeve.

Once upon a time, nodding in response to him would have brought a swift punishment, but if I couldn't make a sound, I just had to trust that ducking my chin to my chest twice would give him my answer.

My skin hummed as I waited, nibbling on my bottom lip when I was met with silence. The seconds passed and the not knowing, waiting for him, needing him in the worst possible way, almost made me push the envelope. Whisper. Plead. Clear my throat.

I wrangled my impatience, the inner submissive in me that found release in giving up control, in the very uncertainty that made me tremble, taking my internal reins.
You didn't sign up for a man who skips to the end of the book. You signed up for a man who lingers, teasing the pages of your story. You signed up for the journey.

And so I waited, not trying to force his hands or peer out of my blindfold for clarity. I didn't fret that my nod was the wrong answer, because there were no wrong answers. This wasn't a test or a battle of wills. This was dominance and submission. This was trust. And when he broke the silence, whispering, 'Good', lust choked the single syllable.

My core fluttered with pleasure when he touched me. Softly. His thick and powerful fingers, fingers that knew how to pinch, how to grip, how to dole out slices of delicious pain, also knew how to play me like an instrument.

Funny, I thought a grunt would force his hand. His fingers were about to force mine. Force me to croon with pleasure because the heat at the center of me, the desire that coated his fingers and was making sounds of its own, was making staying silent a challenge.

“Is this what you wanted? Me to use you as I see fit?”

He slipped his finger inside me and I threw my head back, my mouth flying open in a silent cry of elation.

My answer, my yes, was playing on loop, so close to becoming an audible thing. A screech. And it was like he knew, building in speed, flicking and pulsing around my clit, thrusting deeper like he was getting close to losing his mind too.

He smoothed a hand over my abdomen, making a hot, delicate path towards my breasts. My chest heaved with every moment, every breath getting away from me because I knew where he was headed. My nipples were gluttons for punishment, solid and aching. When he swept his thumb over my right one, gripping my breast tight, moving closer until I felt his muscled body pressed against mine, I couldn't help myself.

I gasped.

He let out a low chuckle, his grip on my breast tightening as his other hand doled out a strike on my bottom. Pain flashed across my skin, a wildfire that cooled when his fingertips strummed the epicenter. Distracting me from the punishment, with the gift of his touch.

“Answer me,” he crooned in my ear, his tongue drawing a unfair, tantalizing circle on my neck while his fingers danced inside me. “You were so bold a few moments ago. So demanding yesterday. Is this what you want?”

Like he knew I was dangerously close to snapping, he withdrew from me, only to follow with the one thing that could make me
scream
.

It was only the tip of his cock. The blindfold didn’t matter because I could have drawn it with my eyes shut with detail and precision. That was the mushroom head that he nudged against my swollen clit. There was that sensitive, mouthwatering ridge that he loved for me to linger at. My body clutched the head of him, my muscles quivering with the same hunger as my voice.

“Yes, Jacob!” I gasped, slamming a hand on the glass. Surrendering to him. A complete and utter slave to my Dom. “That’s what I want! I need you inside me. I need you inside me now!”

It was like the dam broke, all the cracks rupturing. Not only had I disobeyed, but I’m pretty sure there was some flagrancy thrown in there for good measure. Not that it mattered, but I pressed my hands against the glass, needing something solid to cling to because I was surely about to atone, even if the game was rigged.

“Now?” he mused, his fingers making me jump because I was expecting his palm to collide with my flesh, not a gentle rounding of one cheek, then the next. His next move was even more surprising.

He removed my blindfold.

My eyes struggled to adjust, the brightness of the room too much and a welcome reprieve at the same time. I wanted him to see me. I wanted to see him.

“Face me.”

Still getting my bearings, I slowly turned back to him and was rendered speechless all over again. This time, it had nothing to do with orders or ball gags. This was all Jacob.

How was it possible that he still snatched the air from my lungs, like he had when we met? The very sight of him in all his glory made me want to pinch myself. My eyes met his cool blue ones, the waves swirling with power, authority, and a love that made me blush and wring my hands. It was like the quarterback asked the geeky girl to the prom and would take down anyone that questioned his sanity.

The rest of my perusal was anything but an ‘aww’ moment. His nostrils flared like a man on the hunt and the prize was in his sights. His lips, thick and delicious, were slightly parted as he did his own perusal...and I did not come up wanting.

His muscles glistened in the morning sun. Perfection in the flesh.

Mine.

When I met the perfectly cut V and my eyes rested on the part of him that was as insatiable as I was, I nearly fanned myself. It bulged and stood erect, every inch crying out for my body. Crying out for me. He was so still, so freaking gorgeous that when he moved it was like a Greek statue had come to life. Like a warrior who was home from battle, and ready to claim his woman.

He turned his back to me, striding toward the bed. I watched, speechless, as he moved to the center. He situated himself, folding a pillow behind his head and set me ablaze with his eyes.

“If you want it, come and take it.”

It was a challenge, and I wasted no time accepting it. I rode the pulse that vibrated between my thighs. Dizzy with arousal, I mounted the bed like my life depended on it. I held my stomach when the logistics and the fact that I hadn’t been on top in awhile, flitted through my head.

The heat in my cheeks depend to my bones. “Are you sure? I just-”

“Leila.”

It wasn’t an admonishment, his tone was too gentle for that. It was an invitation. It was Jacob telling me to stop listening to that tiny, insecure voice in my head and listen to my body. To his body.

I straightened my spine and muzzled the part of me that struggled with my changing body. I still had scars from a childhood of being told I was inadequate by my peers. Shrinking myself so I wouldn’t take up too much space.

He wanted to see me. He wanted to feel me. Every part of me.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft, biting my lip when his eyes flashed with excitement. I lowered myself onto him, feeling every inch stretch and pulse inside me as I took all of him inside me. I couldn't believe I'd hesitated, that I thought this would be anything but bliss.

I was a woman possessed, throwing my head back as I worked my hips. We both made sounds; flesh slapping, moans weaving in and out of each other, the hum of pleasure flooding my ears.

I raked my nails down his chest and gave him a command. “Come for me, Jacob.”

His gaze registered surprise but it quickly melted away when he let out a bellow that told me he was mine. For the first time in a long time, Jacob Whitmore obeyed
me
.

His climax set me free and we came together, both of us howling and clawing and panting and lost in our bodies. Lost in the bliss.

I
strutted off the elevator, ready to slay.

Our Hawaii vacation was only a week long but the businesswoman in me felt like it was longer, and not in a good way. A week—careers were made and destroyed in less time. The news was no help because it seemed to be business as usual back on the mainland. A couple of red carpet events that went off without a hitch, a movie release, a charity ball that surpassed its 5 million goal, and a slated apology blitz for a company embroiled in scandal after the CEO commented that the homeless problem in the city could be easily remedied if those less fortunate were rounded up and put elsewhere.

Out of sight, out of mind
, I thought, rolling my eyes with disgust. He was an asshole, plain and simple, and I was glad he was Jacob’s problem, and not mine. There was nothing that annoyed me more than people with privilege who were so insulated, deluded and self centered that they saw people who had less as inconveniences and lazy leeches on society. People like my mother in law, Alicia Whitmore.

Plus, if Jacob was tied up trying to talk some sense into the insensitive tech mogul, he would be too busy to buzz me every five minutes to make sure I was easing back into work. His concern was sweet, but futile because I didn’t ease into anything. I was tenacious, an overachiever who only gave over control to him. In this building, and in my career, I called the shots. When I used that line on Jacob, it was usually met with a glare, laced with love.

Like his ears had been burning, my cell shuddered in my hand.

Jacob: If you need anything let me know.

My warrior face softened, his concern, his love, radiating from the screen. I couldn’t resist plunking out a response that would probably result in a tiny smile that the insensitive CEO would quickly erase, because the man was completely oblivious to the outrage at his comments.

Sending good vibes to Jacob’s conference room, I kept a few for myself because there would be no getting around the icy reception that was in store when I faced Natasha Lancaster, the executive secretary. She usually intensified the modern lines and design of the executive floor. Made it sterile and suffocating with thinly veiled animosity, turning our brief exchange—messages or pressing appointments and meetings I had—into a trip to the gynecologist. Necessary, unavoidable, and woefully uncomfortable.

My usual greeting was a crisp one. A ‘Good morning’ that was entrenched with an undercurrent of disdain, like it
was
a good morning until I ruined it with my arrival.