BILLIONAIRE (Part 6)

by Jones, Juliette

  I felt my own control – over everything – slipping. And I couldn’t breathe.

  Stepping back from him, I felt his knuckles slide over the lightly swollen nub of my clit. I gasped as I disengaged from him, pulling weakly at the hem of my skirt. I was confused and disarmed by the muddling swell of emotion. This should have been easy, this raging torrent of attraction. But the deeper into it we got, the more complicated it felt. Mindless attraction was only the tip of the iceberg. Somewhere along the way, this relationship had begun to expand into darker, swifter, more complex waters. “Stop,” I said.

  Alexander’s face was heartbreaking to me. He was equally hurt and angered by my refusal. I turned from him, to block out the sight of his sullen glory. He was unsettling me with his beauty. I needed to distance myself from him, to not break down or give in. “I said I’m going out,” I told him. “I need to be alone for a while. I’ll call you later, okay?” I reached for the bag I’d dropped somewhere in the middle of our tryst.

  But Alexander walked over to the door of his bedroom and closed it. He leaned against it, blocking my escape. “And I said no, Lila. There’s no need for you to go out right now. You can be alone all you want, here. You can invite Eva over for lunch one day. Claude will cook you anything you want. Anytime you want. Anything.”

  My heart was pounding riotously, with some crazy cocktail of rage, lust and fear. I knew he was controlling, I’d known it all along. But I didn’t know the extent of it. How far would he go to stop me?

  He remained motionless, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. I walked up to him, standing in front of him. But I didn’t touch him. I wasn’t afraid of violence. I was afraid touching him would undermine my resolve. I knew touching him would undermine my resolve.

  “Alexander. What is this? You can’t keep me here. I’m free to go whenever and wherever I want. I’m not your goddamn prisoner!”

  “Just give me twenty minutes,” he said. “That’s all I need to get my work done today. We’ll go down to the hot tub together. Or out. Whatever you want.”

  “What I want is for you to move away from that door and let me out! I need to spend some time alone.” In fact, the feeling had passed. I would rather have agreed to his suggestions, but I felt too far into this now to retreat. His behavior wasn’t acceptable, that’s all there was to it. “You can’t force me to stay holed up in this apartment and never leave. Seriously, who does that kind of thing? You’re acting like some kind of psycho. I mean it, Alexander.”

  Alexander did not move from the door, but he reached to touch an end strand of my hair. He coiled a tangled curl. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay with me.” With one finger, he touched my chin and tilted my face up to his. “Come on, Lila. Don’t walk out on me.” He didn’t sound like a psycho, I had to admit. His voice was soothingly deep, crooning to me like I was the psycho, or some wild animal about to bolt. “Stay with me, honey girl. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything you ask.”

  I eyed him warily. “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Let me help you work. I want you to let me start my job today.”

  His eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. There was a cautiousness in him that confirmed all my suspicions before he even spoke. “Yeah,” he said. “About that.” Loaded pause. “I was thinking that … after all that’s happened, and considering the nature of our relationship, as it’s turned out, that maybe we might want to … reevaluate your position. The thing is, Lila, you don’t really have to work. At all. Not now.”

  I might have overreacted. The rush of emotions and predictions and confrontations set me off. I glared up at him. “You’re firing me?”

  “No, I’m not firing you. I’m telling you that I –”

  “That you don’t want me to work for you anymore.”

  “Only because we’re in a relationship now, Lila.”

  “We were in a ‘relationship’ when you hired me in the first place, if I remember correctly,” I said, hurt and angry that he would backtrack like this. “I want to work for you anyway.”

  “I’m just not sure if it’s a good idea. Now. I just think it might be best if we keep this personal. Instead of professional.”

  I was too irate to listen to this. “Oh, that’s just great,” I seethed. “I get it. Loud and clear. You want to keep me locked up here in your bedroom to fuck me whenever you feel like it. If I’m actually working and doing something productive, engaging my mind, using my degree that cost the fucking earth, I might be unavailable when you’re feeling horny. Your hard-on might go unaddressed for half an hour while I finish typing one of your reports. I might even have to talk to people, or God forbid, I might have to leave this fucking apartment to engage with the wider world. I might even have to use my brain instead of just my body. You’d just hate that, wouldn’t you, Alexander?”

  “Lila, that’s not what I fucking meant. I’m telling you that there’s no longer a need for you to earn money. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you.”

  I’d lost all semblance of self-control. “What if I don’t want you to take care of me? What if I want to take care of myself? What if I want to take care of you? Did you ever think of that?”

  He looked a little stunned by my reply, like he hadn’t, in fact, thought of anything like that before.

  And I was too furious to wait for his answer. “Fine, Alexander. Go ahead and fire me. If that’s what you really want to do, then go right ahead. And I’ll tell you what I really want to do: go out. I’ve got some job-hunting to do. And some fresh air to breathe. Now please get out of my way so I can get started.”

  “Lila, for fuck’s sake –”

  He reached for my hand but I shook him off. “And I’ve changed my mind about dinner. I don’t want to eat with you tonight. I’m going out. With friends.”

  I didn’t bother mentioning I only had one close friend and it was more than likely she was working or had other plans. Who knew? I hadn’t even called her in weeks. She’d probably moved on and forgotten about me altogether.

  Alexander stood there, watching me. He folded his arms across his chest in an aggressive stance. From the place where he’d dropped it by the window, his computer pinged with a new email message alert. “Go on,” I said. “Answer your emails. Placate your underlings with your important advice.”

  “Lila, be reasonable. There’s no need to get all fucking crazy on me. I’m asking you to let me take care of you, and to stay. It’s hardly cruel and unusual punishment. We can talk about this.”

  Damn him with his low voice and thick black hair, curling gently around his ears, flicking in uneven strands. And his face, all beseeching and remorseful. His body, hard and gloriously sculpted, with his jeans slung low on his hips, unbuttoned, revealing the tantalizing arrow line of dark hair. But I denied my urges. There was something not at all right about the submission he demanded of me. I was trapped. And now I was rendered useless, save for one purpose. It was clear that he wasn’t about to let me leave, whether I wanted to or not. He could mollify me with calm requests, but it wasn’t enough. “Get out of my way, Alexander.”

  “I’m not letting you leave like this, Lila. Let’s sit down and –”

  “I don’t want to sit down! And it’s not up to you to let me do anything! Get out of my way, Alexander. I mean it.” I pushed at his shoulder, in an attempt to move him but he was probably twice my weight and a good six inches taller, not to mention strong as hell.

  “Lila,” he growled, in a futile attempt to stop me, and calm me. His arms wrapped around me in a stronghold, not forcefully, but with extreme, absolute strength. I was struggling, pushing against him but his hold was unbreakable. He slid down to a sitting position, cradling my squirming, writhing, uncontrolled body in his lap, forming a cage with his muscular arms and legs. I might have been crying in my frustration with the comfort he provided, even in this imprisonment of sorts. I wanted him to want me like this, obsessively, possessivel
y. I loved him too much. I wanted to break free and still crawl into his body and soul and live there forever.

  He was wiping my tears, holding my wrists in one of his fists to stop me from lashing out. He was kissing my face and my lips as he whispered a litany of calming, soothing promises. “You’re all right, honey girl. I’ll come with you, wherever you want to go. I love you, did you know that? Do you know how much I love you? I can’t see straight I love you so much. I can’t fucking bear the thought of you walking out that door and into the cold streets full of madmen and darkness and back alleys and fucking craziness without me there to protect you. I want to protect you so much. I want to keep you safe. I want to do everything for you, sweet girl. Come on, you’re all right. Don’t cry. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  His breath and his words were drugging me, an exotic elixir that leeched warmth into my heart, thawing my rage, turning it into something else altogether. I let him kiss my parted lips in supplicating little nips that grew deeper, longer. His tongue touched mine gently at first, licking into my mouth. His kiss was soft yet firm, demanding. Alexander was completely in charge, as always, convincing me with the eloquence of his fire and his perfect allure that I needed him, that I wanted him beyond reason. The lick of his tongue was feeding tiny darts of pleasure into me, to the tips of my breasts and the dewy, softening heat between my thighs. My skirt had ridden up during our tussle, barely concealing me, and I was sitting on the half-open button fly of his jeans. The hard textures of the straining denim and the cold buttons against my sensitive, moistening flesh made me moan into his mouth.

  “That’s my girl,” he crooned. “You’re so beautiful, Lila. I love you so much, sweet girl. You taste so fucking good. Come on, that’s it. Let me hold you. Let me kiss you.”

  I was writhing now for an entirely different reason, in gentle, circling grinds. He’d released my hands and I realized one of my fists was twined in his hair, the other pressed against his chest, sliding lower, down his flat, muscled stomach. To the buttons of his jeans, which I unfastened blindly as I sucked on his tongue. He maneuvered us, pushing his jeans lower to release himself. My echoing rage had refocused into a flaring, white-hot need. I climbed onto him, straddling his hips, grabbing his massive, fully engorged length, grasping and working him, rubbing myself against the beautiful, substantial hardness of him. I was still mad at him and my fury now translated into pure greed for pleasure. My pleasure. He had unbuttoned the shirt I wore and was fingering my nipples, twirling and pulling them into tight peaks as his slippery kisses grew hungrier. The pinching pain delivered by his fingers made me moan louder and sent ripples of sweet fire to my fluttering core. I wanted him there. I wanted to ride him and fuck him almost viciously. I was not gentle as I cupped him from below, forming a cage of my own, squeezing as I guided the slick, broad head of his cock to the folds of my sex, using him to caress my clit in pressing, rhythmic glides as I moved against him. As determined as I was to give myself pleasure, I could tell that my selfish, feverish approach was arousing him beyond belief. His cock was as hard as silk-covered stone and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. I impaled myself by velvety, star-studded degrees, moistening his length with the wetness of my own desire to gain more of him.

  “Oh, God. Lila. You feel so fucking unbelievably good,” he groaned as I rose up then slid down the full length of him until he was fully inside me. His hands fell to my hips and I held them there.

  I was in control now. I rubbed my full breasts against the hair-roughened surface of his chest. I kissed and bit his lips and his neck. And I rode him like a rodeo hero, finding the exact angle I wanted, sliding along his rigid length, arching until only the tip of him was inside me, torturing him with wiggling teases, taking a little more, then sitting harder onto him, squeezing him with my inner muscles to pull him deeper. All the while, he watched my face, his eyes half-drowsed and half-feral with pleasure.

  “You’re a bully, you know,” I whispered, as once again I lowered myself fully onto his thick, hot cock, clenching around him, sitting still aside from the squeezing, undulating pressure, reveling in my own power over him.

  He groaned.

  “You can come with me when we go out,” I told him, kissing his lips before catching his plump lower lip between my teeth, biting gently into the soft flesh as I lifted my hips. He almost slid free of me. But I held him in place, circling and pleasuring my budded clit with his throbbing shaft before taking him fully once again into my tight, silky sheath. “On one condition.” I nipped his earlobe, whispering into his ear. “I’m keeping my job. I’m going to work with you and be with you and help you. And sometimes, when I feel like it, I’m going to get myself off, just like this, right on your desk. I’m going to use you, like you use me. I’m going to love you, like you love me. And I’m going to make love to you wherever and whenever I want.”

  Again, I teased him, rising up until he slipped from the warm, wet embrace of my body. To this, Alexander reacted. With practically-inhuman strength, he lifted me and laid me onto my back in a move that was as gentle and controlled as it was uncompromising. Laying himself onto me, he entered me with forceful, total perfection, pushing his thick cock as deep as I could take him. Then he pulled almost all the way out, mimicking my actions, again thrusting into me with punishing fervor. He bit my earlobe, as I’d done to him, whispering, “You’ll let me indulge my obsession, and to protect you as I see fit. And I’ll agree to try to employ you. I can’t guarantee that this will work for me, though. I’m too close, too deep. I need to be able to focus on my companies, without distractions. And you, my sweet Lila, are more of a distraction than I can handle.”

  He thrust again, as though to illustrate a point. His hands were on my ass, holding me in squeezing handfuls up as he drove into me, ensuring complete possession. His fingers worked me from behind, spreading me and pressing barely into the secret pucker as his driving plunges found sweet, sleek friction inside me. His pounding vigor was relentless, almost savagely thick and deep. Delicious agony gave way to a climbing, tense beauty. The pumping glide of Alexander’s big cock seemed to force the pleasure into me in weighty, potent bursts that found me moaning and pleading for everything he had to give. “Oh, God, it’s too much. I’m coming, Alexander, I’m coming. More, give me more. Please, oh, please. Oh, God, oh, please.”

  My climax began as a high peak of accumulating ecstasy that held in a feverish swell. Then the pleasure erupted into a wild torrent of blissful, clenching spasms that milked Alexander’s orgasm from his body in hot, wet pulses. He groaned with his release: a low, tortured growl against my neck. Then he went still and heavy, his cock twitching out the last vestiges of his rapture inside me.

  After, we lay still for a while, sated and replete, riding the rush, allowing it to glide and to mellow. Physically, we were profoundly connected. And it went deeper than that. I felt Alexander to the core of my being. I savored his weight and his warmth to the depths of my soul. To feel him like this, protective yet conquered, our arms and legs entwined, our hair tangled, the slickness of our lovemaking like a luscious, life-giving bond, I could forgive him his faults. His overbearing dominance. His over-protectiveness. I could see from this vantage point that his faults were all about his love for me and his desire to keep me close, and safe. I understood why he acted the way he did, and I knew what fueled his concern. From within the scope of my own vulnerabilities, I realized I not only accepted his shielding, compulsive tactics: I craved them. We could argue about his obsession and his way of managing it, but here and now, with his big, male body on me and in me, dozing in a haze of post-coital satisfaction, all I could feel was my love for him. My devotion. He was everywhere and everything.

  I kissed his face and he stirred, levering his weight with his arms. “I’m crushing you,” he murmured, kissing me tenderly. “I love you. God, how I love making love to you. I want to live inside you, just like this.” He pushed his softened shaft deeper into me, kissing me again in leisurely,
lusty bites and licks. His tongue found ever more intimate angles, just tasting me, gently exploring, as though I was the most exotic fruit he’d ever come across. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said. Positioned as we were, with my legs still wrapped around him, I could tell that his cock was beginning to harden again, already. Just the sensation of all that, swelling inside me, made me feel happy. Lucky. He felt so good, so spectacularly male.

  At that moment, his email alert pinged and my stomach made a little growling sound. I thought he might be distracted by the call of his subjects, but instead he said, “You’re hungry.”

  I smiled at him, pleased that I was his priority. “A little.”

  “What’s it to be for my beautiful, insatiable, magical Lila? Filet mignon? Chocolate cake? Anything you want. Your wish is my command.”

  I thought about it for a minute, loving the mesmerized adoration in his eyes. Mine. Like this, he was mine. “Ice cream,” I said. “I want ice cream.”

  His face lit up. “I have ice cream. Butterscotch swirl. And whipped cream.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I told him, kissing him because I loved him madly and it was an amazing feeling. So new, so head-over-heels, in-at-the-deep-end, scary-good amazing. Like this, nothing could touch us.

  Alexander pulled himself from my body. Very carefully, he lifted me up. He carried me to his bed, setting me onto the cool sheets and fluffing the pillows before arranging me against them. Then he leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking unhurriedly before moving to the other one. He feasted on my breasts until my nipples were hard and pink. “Wait here,” he ordered, his eyes bright. “I’m going to feed you, and I want you completely naked when I get back, all right?” His pulled on the low-slung jeans he still half-wore and he got up and walked to the door, opening it and disappearing.

  It wasn’t difficult to fulfill his demand; I slipped off the skirt that had been bunched around my waist and ripped at the seam during our frenzy.