She opened her bag and stared at her ruby-studded collar, encased in a clear container. Jasmine wondered if Ethan would want to take his frustrations out this weekend the old fashioned way.
The car came to a stop as it turned dark outside. Jasmine couldn’t see the villa, but she was sure it was as beautiful as the pictures James sent Ethan.
They didn’t need to borrow a villa for a weekend. Ethan had a penthouse in the city if they wanted absolute privacy to relax or be kinky. They also had the house in the Hills, which was where they lived fulltime. Ethan was so loaded they could go anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice.
Except this was an excuse. Emotionally, they needed this. Ethan had been so busy that he missed half of Thanksgiving, leaving Jasmine to sit with a cooling turkey and mashed potatoes until Ethan came stumbling downstairs with the sorriest look on his face. At least I had the cats to keep me company… Still, not the best way to spend their first Thanksgiving together.
Ethan slipped his driver instructions for picking them up Sunday afternoon before getting out and helping both Nadia and Jasmine to their feet. A maid came out to help with their belongings while a butler greeted them at the front door.
Jasmine heard other voices inside, including groans of disbelief.
They weren’t in the house for two minutes before a bevy of familiar faces appeared nearby. What the fuck? Three women. Two men. And jasmine knew every single one of them in some capacity or another.
There were her friends Monica and Henry, as well as Henry’s sister Eva looking like the most dapper person in the room with her three-piece suit and flawless makeup. Then there was Kathryn Alison, a socialite and philanthropist who talked to Jasmine often enough and even adopted a kitten from her. Then Kathryn’s boyfriend, Ian Mathers, a man whom Jasmine wasn’t very familiar with.
“You didn’t tell me that there would be others here…” Jasmine accepted a kiss on the cheek from Monica. “What’s going on, Ethan?”
Her boyfriend stood, intimidating in his business suit – certainly dressed more formally than the other men there. Henry wore his usual tan suit that was like a second skin to him, and Ian was dressed down – as far as billionaires went – in winter pants and a sweater. Ethan had crashed the wrong party.
“I would also like to know what’s going on,” Ethan said, handing Nadia his briefcase, who in turn passed it along to the maid to take up to their room. “I was under the impression that this was a private affair this weekend.”
“So were we,” came a chorus.
Ethan turned to the butler. “What is going on here?”
The butler shrugged. “Mr. Merange… only told me that there would be guests this weekend. I didn’t find out how many until a few hours ago. I believe you are the bulk of it.”
“There are eight of us, all right,” Ian muttered. He poured more drinks for the new arrivals. “It’s a fucking party.”
Nadia was the last to enter the room – and the first to try to turn around to leave.
“Oh, my,” Eva said, enjoying her drink next to Kathryn Alison. “Look who showed up.”
Nadia’s cheeks turned the pinkest hue Jasmine had ever seen. Those two go back. Every once in a while Eva Warren showed up at Ethan’s office for whatever business, and every so often Nadia had the distinct privilege of being heavily flirted with. Eva was one of the city’s most eligible lesbian bachelorettes… and Nadia was a beautiful lover of the female form. As far as Jasmine knew, nothing ever happened. Nadia always turned down Eva’s advances, although she confided to Jasmine one day that she thought Ms. Warren quite pleasing to be around.
She’s single, so why hasn’t she gone for it?
Jasmine sat on a loveseat by a chess table. Around her were six men and women all looking uncomfortably at one another. It wasn’t that they couldn’t get along, but Jasmine had quickly deduced that everyone had been told the same thing: James Merange promised them a private weekend getaway at this mountain villa. Except this was hardly anything private.
Ethan ripped off his jacket and slouched next to Jasmine. “I’m going to wring his neck,” he muttered to his girlfriend. “I have no idea what his game is, but this is ridiculous.” He took a glass of brandy from Ian Mathers without thanks and knocked it back in one gulp.
After taking the glass back, Ian said, “I had a double as well. By the way, did you know that we’re having roast for dinner?”
“Hopefully nobody here is a vegetarian,” Kathryn quipped.
“Nobody here is a vegetarian.”
Everyone turned to look at Monica, sitting by herself next to the fireplace. She shrugged. It was her business to know the preferences of every elite person in the area. Especially those into kink.
Which every last one of them – perhaps sans Nadia – was into.
Jasmine sighed. Something was up, and she was starving. This non-vegetarian dinner couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter 4
Monica
“I need to speak with you. Privately.” Henry’s breath was hot in Monica’s ear, sending a quick shiver down her spine. “Come.” His hand wrapped secretly around her wrist. Nobody paid them any mind as Monica rose from her seat and followed her Dom out of the study.
This is either good or bad. On a night like tonight, Monica had a hard time telling. She could safely say she was a bit irate too.
“Where’s the nearest private room?” Henry asked the butler. “My fiancé and I need to make a call.”
The man pointed to a room across the hall. “The guest office, sir. It should be unlocked. You are free to use the landline if you wish.”
Henry put his hand protectively on the small of Monica’s back. “That won’t be necessary. When’s dinner? We’ll only be a few minutes, but I don’t want to miss it.” The damned roast. Monica could faintly smell it there in the foyer.
“Dinner should be in about thirty minutes, sir. Would you like me to put you into contact with Mr. Merange? Although he may not be available at this time.”
“No thank you. I’ll chew him out myself later.” Henry guided Monica across the hall, his pace rough and fast. The man was almost twice as tall as Monica, and it was moments like these that made her feel so overpowered… in a good way. I’m being herded. Lovely. She liked it when her Dom took absolute control. She contained a smile. Monica liked where this was going.
The room was dark when Monica entered, and it remained dark after Henry closed and latched the door behind them. As soon as Monica’s eyes adjusted to the faint light coming through the faraway windows, she felt her Dom’s hand touch her stomach and bring her into his backward embrace.
“I can’t believe the amount of people here,” he grumbled into her ear, hold as fast as a vice grip. “And I thought I was taking a chance bringing my sister with us. At least she would keep to herself…”
Monica shifted to find more comfort. What she found instead was Henry’s erection pushing into her back. Oh, my. “I had a feeling you were a bit ornery, sir.” And she had a feeling Henry would be interested in only one thing when they arrived. Finding as many people in their midst as they did must have thrown his game off. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take care of it earlier.”
“Oh, the feeling is usually mutual, isn’t it?” Henry’s hand grasped Monica’s breast through her crimson sweater dress. Such a thick and warm material meant she didn’t have to wear a bra to keep her propriety. Especially when she thought this would be a private weekend with only Henry’s sister off skulking somewhere else while she did homework.
The braless sweater dress meant Henry quickly found a hard nipple to pinch. Monica squirmed in his embrace, grinding the top of her ass against his cock. The man was a little hard.
“Tell me what you want, sir.” This was their weekend getaway, their lover’s retreat, but for Henry and Monica that meant cranking the Dom/sub dial as high as it could go. Nothing got Monica wetter faster than knowing her Dom was pleased with h
er servitude. There was a reason she ran the best BDSM house of pleasure in the nation. Yes, I’m bold enough to say the nation. There was a reason she knew who was a vegetarian and who wasn’t…
She definitely was not. Thank goodness, because what Henry hissed into her ear had to be taken care of right away. A million jokes ran through Monica’s head. Yet the faster she got on her knees and unzipped her fiancé’s trousers, the more she didn’t find jokes about meat funny.
Because Henry was almost painfully hard.
“Shit, yes, that’s what I want.” He tugged on her dark curls as she pulled the full length of him out of his pants and ran her tongue along the underside, tasting sweat and his musky scent. Her lips nibbled the place where his sack met the base of his shaft. That was something she found out by happy accident that Henry loved. “Keep that up and this will turn into a quickie.”
She pulled her mouth off him long enough to speak softly. “Is that not what you want? We have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves later.” In bed. After everyone else went off to bed. To fuck, I’m sure. Isn’t that what all those couples were here to do this weekend?
I know that’s why we came here. Monica’s bag was full of more than clothing and toiletries. She had to make sure to take batteries out first as a precaution – didn’t want anything vibrating in transit.
“You know what I mean, Princess.” Henry gathered Monica’s hair into his hand, exposing the back of her neck. “I’m assuming you want some pleasure as well.”
Monica teased his length with the tip of her tongue, inhaling his overwhelming scent as if nothing else mattered. It was heady, that was for sure. If she kept it up, she would be positively drunk on the pheromones exuding from this man. Good. I want him to take me now. She covertly moved her hand between her legs, beneath her dress, and rubbed her slit, hoping it would get her wet in a hurry.
“I have faith in you, sir.” She tried not to sound sarcastic. Because, in truth, she did have faith in him. Henry had proven time and again that he was more than capable going twice in a row. He simply needed… certain inspiration. From Monica’s end.
“Nevertheless, I’m charging you with keeping me under control.”
That was a big order. Monica silently cleared her throat before pulling the head of Henry’s cock into her mouth, then slowly – so slowly that she doubted he noticed it at first – down her throat. She controlled her breathing through her nostrils and cupped her hand around his sack, massaging his flesh as he groaned above her.
How long has he waited to take me like this? Monica tasted nothing but precum at first. Not that she didn’t love Henry’s taste, but she wasn’t expecting quite that much. Furthermore, how could she not see his erection earlier, when he was flawlessly conversing with the others? I bet he was going to throw me down on our guest bed and fuck me senseless before dinner. Monica once again cursed that blasted James Merange for either being a huge scatterbrain or doing something as nefarious as scheduling three groups of friends to use his villa on the same weekend.
Honestly, Monica could believe either scenario.
If Henry were new to Monica’s way of loving, he would have remained silent. That was his personality. But he knew how much Monica loved validation, especially when it came to services rendered. She was his sub, after all. Tell me I’m doing a good job, Henry. Let me know that no other woman or sub could give you the pleasure I do!
As if he read her mind, he said, “You’re fucking amazing. Swallow me, Princess.”
Was there anything better than being at the beck and call of a man as worthy as Henry Warren? Not only did he take care of her, but he loved her, treated her with respect – yes, even in these situations – and made love to her in ways no other man had. He knew what Monica liked. How to please her, emotionally and physically. In turn, Monica lived most of her life thinking of how she could best serve him next. Most women she knew didn’t understand her lifestyle, her desires to serve and be rewarded… and punished if necessary. Henry hadn’t earnestly punished her in a long while. They were so in tune with one another that Monica knew exactly what was expected of her, even with a glance.
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. The darkness made it impossible to see his eyes, but she knew Henry gazed back at her, reveling in the way she loved him.
And choked on him, a little.
“Careful, Princess.” Monica could never get enough of that pet name. It made her feel adored and subservient at the same time. Only a princess was given such honors as these. As for subservient? Princesses didn’t always become queens, although Henry liked to call her that too. Usually with the word “wolf” in front of it.
Monica eased off him, the air rushing down her throat. Cold air. This room was in dire need of a heater. “May I speak?”
“Of course.”
With her hand still wrapped firmly around him, Monica said, “I’m glad you didn’t wait, sir. I would have offered myself to you in the car on the way up here if it weren’t for…”
“Don’t remind me of her right now, please.”
“Of course not. Just know that I want you too, sir.”
“Naturally. Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing this, right?” Henry took her by the back of her head and pushed her toward his erect cock. “Don’t forget why you’re here, Monica.”
She could never. Her need to please him was as great to be pleased right now.
He pushed into her throat, gagging her until she was relaxed enough to continue. Henry was not the kind of Dom to hurt her by fucking her throat when it was that deep. He was content to lean back and let her take care of all the work, from humming around his tip to rolling her tongue up and down his shaft. One hand kept the base of his cock steady, while the other rubbed the inside of his thigh and stimulated the rest of his loins. I don’t care how this ends. This is hot enough to do me in.
“Are you wet?” Henry tugged, hard, on her scalp. “I hope you are. Because I am going to take your cunt very soon.”
Monica muffled her approval, the heat between her legs expanding in anticipation. I want this inside me, all right. What woman wouldn’t? Even if they didn’t see his handsome physique or knew about his lovely personality, a woman only had to feel this cock in her mouth and hand to know it was worth letting in, any which way he wanted.
“Off, please.”
Monica obeyed. She was born to obey.
She would do anything Henry said or asked of her. Including leaning against the wall so her Dom could lift her skirt up around her waist and spread her legs around his hips.
“Confound this dress,” he muttered, trying to access Monica’s breasts. “Why are you wearing this blasted thing?”
“Because you liked it, sir. Don’t you remember?” One of the many items he picked up for her over the months on various shopping trips. “You said it accentuated my figure.”
“It does, but I would like to get closer to your figure, and this thing won’t let me.”
Finally, after much muttering and pulling on Monica’s dress, he had pulled the hem all the way up over her breasts. He laughed to find her braless; he cursed to find her wearing underwear. How dare she keep certain things the way they were supposed to be outside of sex?
Yet Monica knew how this worked… understood how her relationship functioned. Unless she was ill or otherwise disinterested in sex, she had to be ready to go. That meant she wore a pair of underwear that was easy to pull aside and expose her wet slit.
“Look at you,” Henry growled, his index finger lazily rubbing her clit between two inviting folds. Monica shuddered, whimpered, and melted against the wall. “All that for me. I don’t dare let you have all of it.”
“I would never,” Monica said between gasps of delight. Henry’s finger came precariously close to entering her more than once. “It’s all for you, sir. You did it, so it’s only right that you get to take it as your spoils.”
“My spoils?” Henry pulled his hand up and touch
ed the corner of Monica’s mouth. “Taking the princess metaphor a bit too far. You’re making me think you’re locked in a tower, lustful as hell and without a man’s touch for years…”
“And then you come along, raid my kingdom, break in, and fuck me hard in my bed just as I’ve been praying for all these years. Yes, Henry. Yes. Fuck me.”
“What do we say?”
Monica’s lip twitched. “Fuck me, please, sir.”
Henry hoisted her legs into the air, wrapping both around his waist as he rubbed his cock in her wetness. “No, Princess. Beg for it.”
There were voices out in the hallway. Had a half hour passed already? Was everyone heading to dinner? Did James show up with a huge gotcha to his guests? Did Monica give a shit?
Certainly not. She was needy, she was pinned against a wall with her Dom between her legs, and she had a cock the size of her dreams begging to enter her.
“Please, sir,” she whimpered, trying to sound as vulnerable as possible. She imagined herself that princess in the tower, watching her kingdom burn miles away while the general knocked down her door and stood before her bed. Her core ached to be touched. Her breasts begged for attention. Her mouth wanted to be kissed again and again. She imagined herself, as this princess, possibly looking at her death, but also looking at many ways to salvation. I would strip myself bare and beg to be taken by him, the worthy man who has won my kingdom and my body. Even if this princess weren’t made a queen under the regime, she would still gladly give up everything if it meant sexual relief for the first time in years. “Fuck me now.”
“I will.” Henry’s tip pushed into her, making Monica groan into his shoulder. “But you have to be quiet. Can’t have the other guests hearing what you sound like when taking my cock. That’s only for me to enjoy.”
Billionaires On Holiday: An Alpha Billionaire Christmas Romance Page 2
