His Desire

by Ana Fawkes

  BY HIS COMMAND

  #3

  His Desire

  by

  Ana Fawkes

  I'm going to kill him.

  I'm going to kill Oliver Rush.

  When billionaire Jonathan Black says the words, Isabella Grace can't help but believe he's acting out of anger. Oliver's attack on Isabella has left her scared, but as long as she is in the company of Mr. Black, she feels safe.

  But when Jonathan Black starts to show a darker side of himself - outside of the bedroom - Isabella realizes that perhaps he is serious.

  I'm going to kill him.

  I'm going to kill Oliver Rush.

  But at what cost?

  -1-

  I slept on the plane, again, but this time Jonathan Black held me as I slept. I was too visibly shaken to be alone and he lay with his body pressed hard against mine, soothing me and giving me a constant reminder that he’s right there.

  I dreamed of nothing, which I took as a good thing, because if I had a dream, it would have been about Oliver Rush. Part of me didn’t want to believe that I had been attacked by Oliver Rush and if I hadn’t kicked my feet – landing a few lucky shots – who knows what he would have done with me.

  Being handcuffed and blindfolded, trapped in a chair could be a woman’s fantasy and it had been something of mine since Jonathan had commanded I sit there. While I waited, Oliver Rush had come in and tried to hurt me. In reality, I’m not sure he had full intentions of actually touching me or using the gun he had brought. He achieved what he wanted by scaring me and leaving me shaking. That’s what he wanted Jonathan to find.

  I had become some kind of pawn in a game between them but as long as I was under their control I didn’t mind it so much.

  When I woke I looked down to Jonathan’s strong arms that were still locked around me. I put my hands to his forearms, touching the sleeve of his white shirt, and moved my hand down until I touched the gold cufflinks. I then slid again and the second I touched the bare skin of his hands, he spoke.

  “We’re going to land in a few minutes,” he said. “We should go sit.”

  “Where are we landing?” I asked.

  Jonathan had been in such a rage that he called for a plane, took me by the hand, and never told me anything. Well, he did tell me one thing but I didn’t want to bring it back up hoping that he was cooled off a little and refocused.

  “Outside Seattle. I have a car waiting for us. I have a small place, a cabin, somewhere to hide and relax.”

  I started to smile, thinking things were cooled off but then Jonathan added….

  “…And plan…”

  That’s when my heart jumped and body raced with heat. It was an intense feeling because it was lust mixing with fear. I couldn’t contain either one and at one point I couldn’t separate them. Feeling that way kept me wide awake.

  Jonathan let go of me and climbed out of the bed in his private jet. I rolled to my back and watched him fix his shirt and tie and reach for his jacket that had been draped over a chair. When he looked at me he still had those intense eyes that told me his original statement still held true.

  I’m going to kill him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said to me. “I wish we had more time on this flight because I need to have you.”

  “How long until we are… wherever we’re going?”

  “Maybe an hour,” Jonathan said. “And once we’re there, the rules will still apply.”

  I nodded.

  Of course the rules would still apply. I was in no position mentally or physically to stand up to Jonathan or to just walk away from him. I did believe that I could maybe protect him. That if I stayed with him, kept him close, he would rethink his actions.

  But I knew I was wrong.

  I knew the fantasy of the woman saving the man wouldn’t happen in this case.

  The way Jonathan stared at me, the way his eyes looked lost, the way he made fists so tight, his knuckles would turn white… I knew what he was thinking. He was picturing Oliver Rush touching me, hurting me. He was going beyond that too, playing the what if? game, trying to imagine all the horrible things that could have happened.

  I had to look away from Jonathan until he left the small room. My eyes devoured his sexy looks and perfected features, but my mind could only play one thing over and over.

  I’m going to kill him.

  I wasn’t sure how it worked in the billionaire’s world, but in my world, from all I’ve seen and known, if you kill another man, you get in trouble.

  Then again, this was Jonathan Black, and the more I wondered and the more I questioned, the more I’d find out just how powerful and rich he really was.

  -2-

  He held me tight in the back of the car as we drove. I wanted him to do more, say more, but he didn’t. I could tell his mind was fast at work, trying to think of a way to properly kill Oliver Rush. Just the notion of me being able to say something like that made me shake. Going with Jonathan to Los Angeles was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime, a chance to be handcuffed, blindfolded, and enjoyed by the billionaire. I pictured myself in the bed, the hot tub, and everywhere else in the hotel room. I pictured myself in such orgasmic pleasure, I could sleep for days. Granted, we had our wild fun when he handcuffed me on his airplane and blindfolded me in the hotel room, but I didn’t know the outcome would have been this.

  “We’re here,” he whispered as the car turned left on a narrow dirt road.

  The road went straight and then took a sharp right, finally giving sight to Jonathan’s small cabin.

  When I saw it, I realized his version of a small place and mine were two completely different things.

  This wasn’t a cabin, it was a house. Bigger than most houses I’d ever seen. For someone like Jonathan Black I could understand why this place was considered small. The car stopped and the driver opened the door for us. As Jonathan climbed out, he put his hand to the driver and gave a quick nod.

  “You understand?” Jonathan asked.

  “Of course, sir,” the man said. “Another car is on the way to pick me up. Where would you like the keys for this one, sir?”

  “I’ll take them,” Jonathan replied. “Thank you.”

  The driver placed a small set of keys into Jonathan’s hand and then started to walk away. I rushed to Jonathan’s side and pointed.

  “No need to question what doesn’t matter,” he whispered to me. “What matters is we get inside and figure this out. Immediately.”

  He was so adamant about killing Oliver Rush that his hand wrapped around my hip and he actually lifted me and turned me. He then started to walk, his hand opening wide on the middle of my back, pushing me along. At the front door he pressed in a code on a panel and the doors unlocked. When they did, the lights in the main foyer turned on.

  It was a great security system and it left questioning whether Jonathan was being paranoid or if he was being protective because he had good cause. I almost didn’t understand why money put him in this kind of situation but then I thought about it… money. Power. Success. The way he looked at me, the way he captivated me. His confidence and strength, and all the pieces that just fit together to break me down with a simple touch.

  His hand slid from my back and touched my hand. I exhaled a deep breath and he squeezed my hand.

  “I bought the house a while back, when Rush and I were developing some ideas,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t want to be too far in case something happened and I refused to stay in a hotel. I’d rather be here, alone.” Then he looked at me and his lip curled. “Or not alone.”

  I couldn’t figure out why he looked so enraged and I wanted to get off the subject of both Oliver Rush and killing Oliver Rush but I was intrigued. He had my attention about the man who tried to have me and the
man who made Jonathan Black this upset.

  “You’ll understand more in time,” Jonathan said as we moved down a hallway that eventually led to a kitchen.

  There he served himself a hearty glass of amber scotch and offered me a glass of wine. I couldn’t resist Jonathan Black or anything he offered me, right down to a glass of wine.

  I sipped, then drank, then waited.

  He looked troubled, his mind unable to turn off. It fit his personality, but it also seemed like something that would eventually kill him.

  He had another glass of scotch, this one he drank in one really big gulp. His eyes glazed over as he stared ahead at the stainless steel refrigerator and his face grew angrier and hotter all in the same sequence.

  “Jonathan…,” I whispered.

  My voice was the final piece because he let out a deep growl. His hand opened on his glass and he swung his arm forward, sending the glass sailing from the counter into the air and crashing against the refrigerator. It smashed with a heavy sound and glass shattered all around.

  I was speechless, stunned, my eyes shifting from the glistening glass on the floor to Jonathan’s angry face. I wanted to be afraid and maybe for a second or two, I tried, but it was no use, my body knew what it wanted. And the more dangerous Jonathan looked and began, the sexier he became too.

  “I’m okay,” I said, taking a step towards Jonathan.

  He turned and his hands gripped the table. He leaned towards me, fire raging in his eyes.

  “I didn’t ask a thing about you,” he growled. “I brought you here for… for what? You’ve gotten in my way, in the way of everything. Ah, but yes, you’ve lured in Oliver Rush. Look what that has done.”

  I had nothing to reply with.

  I had enough at that point too, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes, shake my head, and wake up from a long dream. I’d be in bed and find myself waking an hour early before I was supposed to get up for work. But reality had such a way of holding on tight, tighter than anything in life, and I was forced to face that I was here, with Jonathan Black, in his kitchen, his eyes upon me.

  His lips were together, narrow. His left lip quivered, trying to pull up in a snarl. As he swallowed, he looked even more ready for some kind of fight. Something had boiled over deep within Jonathan, whether it was Oliver Rush or not, it didn’t matter. Something had been set off and I wasn’t sure what would make that go away.

  But Jonathan did.

  I felt my best option would have been to just walk away from the scene. Maybe that would cool him off, let him settle, and give my desperation a chance to relax too. I stepped to the side and walked forward. I put my head down and did my best to step over the glass, but I stood no chance against what Jonathan did next. His hands were upon me before I could take a breath. He turned me and kissed me before I could speak a word. His hands were tight on my arms, holding me tight against his body. His eyes were open, so were mine. Our lips together, his taking all the control. I started to shake and realized it wasn’t just me shaking. Jonathan had such a grip on my arms, he shook me. I opened my mouth and let out a groan, trying to release my breath, find more air, and ease the mild pain from his hold. His lips were aggressive, kissing and kissing, his head turning slightly and his tongue moving inside my mouth. I offered my tongue back but he didn’t want it.

  When he broke away from the kiss, his opened his mouth to speak but closed it instead. His face returned back to angry, his eyes growing wider than ever. He tilted his head and for a few seconds, he closed his eyes.

  I opened my mouth then but I couldn’t find words either.

  Jonathan’s head came back down a moment later and again, he kissed me. He kissed me with the wildest mix of passion and rage I’d ever felt, forcing me back until I crashed against the refrigerator. I let out a cry but it was muffled with Jonathan’s lips and tongue. His hands moved down my arms until he found my wrists. He lifted my wrists up, holding them against the refrigerator. When his hands opened, I thought for a second I was going to be released, but he pressed, keeping my wrists above my head.

  Then I felt him, his body pressing against me, his hard spot rubbing between my legs. He bucked at me as though we were naked. It didn’t have the same effect, but it still felt good. He was thick, mad, and I was his person to take it all out on.

  I put my head to the refrigerator and let out a long moan. Jonathan hurried and moved his head side to side against my face, forcing me to look back at him.

  “Sorry,” I managed to say in a hurried breath.

  His tongue was at my mouth again.

  He kissed me deep and then began to follow my lips with the tip of his tongue, taking heavy breaths with his body still against mine, holding my hands above my head. When he moved from my lips, he moved down to my chin and then to my neck. His lips and tongue were a perfect machine together, going to the left side of my neck first, then down and around to the right side. He started to kiss down, as far as he could go until he reached my shirt. In my mind he would have stopped or taken me elsewhere, but that’s not what Jonathan did. I felt his mouth move over my shirt. His teeth clamped onto the cloth and he started to pull. It almost felt like I was being attacked by a savage animal, but it was just a frustrated, sexy, billionaire who need relief and release.

  He pulled for a few seconds and then stopped. He used the tip of his tongue to actually lick along my shirt, on each breast, going as far as he could until he ran out of arm length from holding my wrists against the refrigerator. When he came back up and looked me in the eyes, he was as unhinged as ever. Nothing had seemed to cool him off or even please him. I thrust myself against him, reminding him of what exactly he had between his legs – and what I had between mine.

  Jonathan bent his knee a little and started to lift his leg which lifted my skirt. I felt the cloth against my skin, moving up, but only moving so far. It was torture to feel because I wanted to be naked for Jonathan Black. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to understand what made him so mad so I could calm him. Bring him back to a normal reality.

  He finally let go one of my wrists and my hand shook and became tingly from being over my head for so long. That didn’t matter to me, I went right for him, between his legs. I felt his thick stiffness all at once and squeezed, moaning again. His hands grabbed my face, the tips of all five fingers digging into each side of my cheeks. As he held my face and I held between his legs, we were both shaking. I shook with desperate anticipation and a little bit of fear. Jonathan Black shook from… himself. I could see that he was beginning to even worry himself, maybe channeling parts of that he didn’t know existed or parts he thought were long gone.

  “I’m going to have you,” he said in a whisper that still had a small growl to it.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I’m going to have you all to myself.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to tie you and handcuff you, at the same time…”

  I had no words, again, so I just nodded.

  That’s when Jonathan lifted me and began to carry me.

  -3-

  As he carried me, my legs were tight around his waist. My fingers were interlocked and my elbows locked tight. I stared at him, feeling my hair bounce as he walked, his eyes not leaving mine. In the silence as we just stared at each other came a sense of something I couldn’t figure out at first. It was a lethal mix of lust, romance, erotic, and a deep seeded passion that we both had but we rarely let out.

  I wanted Jonathan Black to tie me up. I wanted him to handcuff me. I didn’t want to wake up handcuffed on a plane and I didn’t want to be blindfolded. Now, it felt petty and silly. I wanted him to be aggressive and throw me to the bed. I wanted him to show me his command and force my body to accept his command. If it took away the rage and frustration that seemed to be pouring over him right then, then I’d take it.

  He took to the steps without looking away from me. Three steps up I felt something starting to vibrate, following by a beep. The beeping cont
inued and I struggled to stay focused on Jonathan.

  “Do you…”

  “Just a phone call,” he said and continued to walk.

  The beeping stopped and then started again. Whoever was calling wanted his attention. By the time the phone went off a third time, Jonathan’s face started to change again. He looked annoyed and angry, but he didn’t look away from me. I held onto his neck with all my might, wanting him to know that I was not going to let go. He’d have to force me to break my hold.

  Which is what he did.

  He turned and kicked open a door. He walked to a bed and then let his hands slide from my backside around to my hips. When he moved more forward he then pushed me. My legs opened and my hands unlocked themselves. I was in the air for a split second before crashing against the bed.

  “Your bag,” I said.

  We had forgotten my special bag in all our erotic commotion.

  “Still downstairs,” I said.

  “I always come prepared,” Jonathan said. “Go to the closet and open it. To the left is a shelf built into the wall. There’s everything we need there. One of each.”

  I moved from the bed and opened the closet to find it full of suits. Suit after suit, all with the subtle smell of clean and a hint of Jonathan’s musky, sexy smell. To the left, just as he said, was a small shelf built into the wall. The middle shelf, eye level with me, was a pair of handcuffs. I pulled them off with the sound of the metal against the wood. Behind them rest a black piece of cloth. The blindfold. That’s all I could find so that’s all that he needed for me.

  When I turned around holding an object in each hand, Jonathan held his cell phone, staring at the lit up screen. I wasn’t sure who would be bothering him and when the phone started to ring again, I could hear him grunting under his breath.

  Something told me it wasn’t Oliver Rush. If it had been the man who tried to harm me, I was pretty sure Jonathan Black’s demeanor would have been even more intense. This was someone else, but still someone who bothered him.