His Absolute Arrangement: A Scandalous Billionaire Love Story (Jessika, #1)

by du Lys, Cerys

  He squeezed my throat again, harder. Not too hard, though. I could breathe if I wanted. I felt his grip, felt the strength and power in his hand, but he didn't hurt me. I shook my head, keeping my lips pursed and my mouth shut.

  He kissed me. Oh God. Asher kissed me and my resolve melted in a puddle of befuddled passion. His tongue licked at my lips and I opened my mouth to accept him, except then we weren't kissing. He pulled away and drove his fingers into my mouth, smearing my own wetness across my tongue and my lips. I gasped. I wanted to laugh. My thoughts flickered between heady delight and frustration that I'd lost our game so quickly. It was fun, though. Sexy.

  It was really fucking hot.

  Asher took his time toying with me. He touched my tongue and my lips with his fingertips. I tried to close my mouth in some faint show of protest, but he pushed his fingers back in when I did and kept my jaw open. It didn't hurt, but I realized I was drooling; on him and his fingers, but also myself, the table, and my blouse.

  He loosened his grip on my throat again, but then squeezed a little more. Slow, steady, demanding.

  "Jessika," he said. "I want to hear you say our safeword."

  He grinned at me, devilishly loving. I went to speak it, to sate his demands, but he pressed against my tongue with his fingers, stopping me.

  I tried to say it anyways, but the word came out in a garbled mess.

  "What?" he asked. "Jessika, I can't hear you. Speak up."

  I tried to say it again, but it didn't work.

  "Jessika..." He sighed and shook his head back and forth. "Am I going to have to leave you here and return to my work? I don't want to, but..."

  "Wethwah," I said, trying to make my tongue work beneath his fingers. "Wethwah wethwah."

  He pulled his fingers from my mouth, letting me speak my mind. "Yes?"

  "Leather!" I practically shouted at him.

  We were in the ballroom. Decorations, yes, but the ceiling was high and the walls were far apart. My voice echoed throughout the room, bouncing this way and that. I only said "leather" once, but the sound of my voice filled every inch of empty space around us.

  "Good," he said. Without further ado, he flipped me around, just like that.

  My stomach slapped against the table, breasts squished beneath my body. I stared at the lovely shades of oaken wood beneath me.

  Asher peeled my skirt up my body, revealing my bare ass and sex. I tried to shift away from him, but my feet weren't touching the ground and he had his hand on the small of my back, pinning me in place. I moved as best I could, trying to find my footing, but soon realized the impossibility of my attempt; even while wearing my modest heels, I could barely touch the floor. If I angled my foot, just so, I could scrape against the carpet with the tips of my toes, or touch it with the heels of my shoes, but nothing more.

  Asher lifted up his hand and spanked me swiftly. I let out a yelp, surprised, and he spanked me again.

  "This," he said, and another thwap, "is for not being in our bedroom when I told you to be there at a certain time."

  I wriggled on the table, my ass bouncing and squirming as he spanked me. It sent a thrilling chill through my body and I liked it. He didn't spank me too hard, just enough for me to feel it, but the idea that he was spanking me in the ballroom, in the exact place where we'd be holding a business party later...

  The sounds of his spanks echoed louder than the sound of my previously shouted safeword. I nearly forgot about any of this, too wrapped up in the pleasant sting of his punitive hand, but it all came crashing down again as reality set in.

  "Leather," I said, fast and in a panic. "Leather, leather, Asher, Asher stop. Just... just quick. For a second."

  He stopped spanking me. "What? What's wrong?"

  I looked over my shoulder, craning my neck. I didn't want to move too much. I kind of wanted him to continue, to be honest. But it was just so loud!

  "Someone's going to hear," I said. "The echoes. This isn't a very good room for this, I don't think."

  He stared at me, knitted brow, scrunched up eyes. "Was that it?"

  "What do you mean was that it? That's kind of important."

  "Jessika, it's a ballroom. It might sound loud in here, but the walls are specially made to keep sounds in the room. If you have an orchestra playing, you don't want to annoy the rest of the house, right? No one should be able to hear us unless they're listening at the door."

  "Oh," I said.

  He spanked me lightly again, teasing me. "Can we continue, then?"

  "What if someone's at the door, listening?" I asked.

  He paused, then he spanked me again. "I don't know what to say to that."

  "Asher!" I laughed; he spanked me. "Can you go check, at least?"

  "You want me to stop what I'm doing, leave you here, swing open the doors, and see if someone's listening outside of them?" he asked.

  "Please?"

  "Jessika, I'm not going to do that. First off, your ass is a beautiful shade of red right now, and I really want to stop spanking you and get to other things. Second, if I go to the doors like you asked, don't you think it'll be worse if there's a person listening outside and they get a full view of you like this?"

  Well... he made sense, I supposed. I didn't want to admit that. While considering changing my mind, he spanked me again. When I went to speak, he silenced me with a spank, making me squeak and yelp instead. Then another, and I laughed.

  "Oh, you're laughing now?" he asked. "You think this is funny." His voice was wicked.

  "No, no, I'm not, I..."

  Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

  My ass burned, so sensitive and full. I felt a throbbing awareness there, heated and sharp, pulling away from my other senses and making me think of nothing but Asher's hand and his spanks. No more spanks, though. We were done with that. Through the light tingling sensation of pleasant pain, the sound of Asher kicking off his shoes and unzipping his pants, letting them rustle to the floor before he stepped out of them, lilted towards my ears.

  Mmm. Oh God. Oh yes.

  I was staring at the table, contemplating what I should do next, trying to figure out how to prepare for the insanely uncivilized (and intoxicatingly arousing) attitude that had come over my husband. And then he removed all thought from my mind and buried himself deep inside of me.

  It was swift, fast, over and done. My hands clapped against the table, fingers seeking purchase in the smooth wood, but I was too far away from the edge to grab onto anything with any meaning. My fingernails scraped against the wood, but I remembered myself and my surroundings just enough to realize how bad it would be if I left scratches.

  Asher didn't care. He didn't bother with worrying about scratches or the intricacies of grabbing or anything of the sort. Oh, he grabbed, yes, but he grabbed me instead of something as pointless as a table. His palms slapped against the sides of my ass while he ground his cock against my innermost depths. Then he held onto my hips, squeezing my curves as he pulled out of me slowly.

  I felt like I'd been holding my breath and now I was given a chance to breathe. The feeling lasted for half a second longer before Asher drove himself deep into me again. Our bodies mingled and meshed, combining into one, and the front of his core slapped against the rear of mine, sending a resounding smack echoing through the room.

  It was so loud! My cheeks darkened to a crimson red, embarrassment flushing through my face. Someone would hear us, I was certain of it. And then what? Well, the doors were locked, but if it sounded loud enough, if it alerted someone to our illicit activities, who knew what would happen? The listener, or listeners, could think something terrible was going on, something worthy of intrusion, and find a spare key or break down the door or...

  Asher pulled out and thrust back in, then out and in again, no longer taking care to move at a slower pace. Not that his slow pace had been careful to begin with, just propping up his cock to spread past my folds and fill me to the brim, but at least he'd had the decency not to be so loud. No more, t
hough. All sense of quietness, any semblance of regularity, was a thing of the past.

  He pushed inside of me and I squirmed and bucked on the table, trying to quiet the sounds of his body slapping against mine. I felt him; in me, on me. His cock angled into me, destroying my attempts at softening our sexual noises by making me make more. I let out a lusty moan purely on accident, then clapped my hands to my mouth to quiet my voice.

  Not that it did much. For every small attempt I made at lessening the volume of our horizontal ballroom dance, Asher heightened and exaggerated his own sounds. I put my hands over my mouth and he slapped my ass and drove in deeper. I gave up on that, letting myself make quiet squeaks of pleasure, and Asher pinned me to the table, pressed my chest into the oak wood, and renewed his efforts.

  His efforts at breeding me, I thought. The idea was so debased and humiliating, so wrong on so many levels, and yet it wasn't, too. We wanted this, we wanted a family to cherish and to love. Children of our own, wonderful and sweet and caring. We wanted this, yes, but...

  Well, right now Asher was a caveman and I was his mate. He squeezed against my hip with one hand while pressing against the small of my back with the other, and thrust into me hard and fast. A man and a woman could create a family in a myriad of ways, I supposed, and this way was as good as any.

  This way was probably the best way, actually. It definitely rated high up in my preferred methods, at least.

  "Soon," Asher said; I smiled at his excitement and eagerness. "I'm going to cum soon, Jessika. I'm not through with you yet, though. Don't worry."

  I decided to play a game with him, for my pleasure and his. I squeezed and clenched against his cock. He pushed deep into me and I squeezed him harder, trying to force him into an earlier climax. He held himself inside of me and I felt a faint twitching from his cock, but then he pulled out. All the way out, everything.

  "No!" I shouted. "No, no, no!"

  In! He thrust back into me, taking my breath away. I gasped. Fuck! I didn't have time to squeeze against him now, I didn't even remember to. He thrust into me three times before I regained some semblance of composure. This was really hard. Asher was really hard, too. He felt thicker inside of me now, ready and waiting to burst. I was ready, too. More than ready.

  I squirmed beneath him, moaning loudly, putting on a show for him. My inner walls clenched against his cock, but I tried to stop myself from going overboard. I didn't want him to leave me again, I wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. I needed it.

  This was what I tried to do, at least. My mind and my body, my thoughts and my intentions, they didn't mix very well. I was worked up before from Asher's scene bringing me in here. So rough and rugged, demanding, forcing everyone out of the room, then locking me in for his pleasure. Demanding I remove my panties, then shoving his hand between my legs and dipping his fingers into my slick, honeyed slit. The spanking, yes, and now this.

  The beginning tremblings of an orgasm made me clench and clutch at Asher's commanding cock. I'd wanted to squirm and writhe and moan in order to arouse him more, but my current arousal was even more of a show than that. Asher picked up his pace, goading my orgasm on, bringing me to deeper levels of pleasure and passion. I inhaled sharply before letting myself go entirely, giving in to his whim.

  And then he was, and I was, we were. He pressed hard into me, holding himself there, and I felt his body and his cock tensing inside of me and around me. He squeezed my hip harder as if to keep himself firmly in place. It hurt a little, but I was too far lost to care. My own body tightened, taut and hard, squeezing against him but also holding him inside of me.

  He filled me with his seed. He performed for me in more ways than one. This wasn't just my show, but ours; together. We could have a family, we could...

  My thoughts melted into a mess of giddy glee and hedonistic ecstasy at everything that currently was and what could be in the future. Asher's cock flexed inside of me, once, twice, and a third time, then more, but less, smaller twitches.

  He filled me. We mated. Us, our bodies, combined.

  In one smooth motion, he pulled out of me, shifted me from my front to my back, then lifted up my lower body all while joining me atop the table. I still wore most of my clothes, but Asher had no pants or shoes. He moved alongside me, holding my ass and propping me up with one arm while cupping my sex with the other.

  I tilted my head to the side and kissed his cheek. "What are you doing?"

  "Making sure everything stays where it should," he said, smirking. He kept his palm over my sex like a lid, making sure I didn't spill any of his cream.

  I laughed. "Is that it? And how long do you expect me to stay like this?"

  "Until I'm hard again," he said, pausing to nibble at my neck. "Until I'm hard and filling you and fucking you again. Right here. Now."

  "Asher..." I whispered his name, closing my eyes. "I love you so much."

  His tongue licked at the outer edge of my ear, sending chills through my body, then his breath filled me with a sense of warmth and comfort. "I love you, too," he said. "So very much."

  ***

  Asher and I didn't get dressed up any more than we usually did for company events.

  He wore a casual, light brown tweed blazer with darker brown patches on the elbows and navy colored suit pants. His tie matched his pants and he kept it slightly loose around his neck, leaving the topmost button of his white dress shirt undone. I smiled at him after we dressed in our bedroom, almost too shy to say anything. He amazed me in so many ways, surprised me in so many others. I didn't understand how he could look so businesslike, yet collected and casual, then nearly half-undressed, too. He didn't even try, and I knew he didn't really intend to since I'd asked him about it once (or so he said), but his presence and ensemble exuded so many different attitudes all at once. Corporate, calm, and carnal; that's how I thought of Asher on a daily basis.

  "You look beautiful," Asher said to me.

  I spun around, letting my dress twirl upwards for his viewing pleasure. I hadn't put on anything too fancy, because I didn't want to go overboard. I sort of wanted to go overboard, too, though, what with our impromptu vow renewal happening shortly. The only thing that stopped me was the company party going on immediately after.

  I'd wanted to dress for both occasions, but who knew how that worked out? I wore a white dress with a laced pattern weaving this way and that across the fabric, as if the dressmaker had pinched it here and there, leaving slight horizontal marks all along it. I liked it because when I walked, the faint lines shifted barely, up and down, a hint of diagonal mixing in with the regular horizontal, adding curvacious allure to my outfit. Or, that's how I thought of it, at least. It felt nice when I ran my hands down my sides, too, some myriad of light wrinkles meeting my palm and my fingertips.

  "Maybe I should change," I said. "Do you think this is alright? It might be too dressy, don't you think?"

  "It's fine," Asher said, coming close to me and putting his hands on my hips. He teased at the fabric of my dress, digging his fingers into it and holding me tight. "You really do look beautiful, Jessika. I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to have a real wedding with a real wedding dress, but we will soon, alright? Once everything calms down a little more, we can plan it all out. Whatever you want, I'll spare no expense."

  "Asher, I..." Yes, I'd like that, but... "We don't need to do anything extravagant. It doesn't have to be too big or expensive. I just..."

  I didn't know what I wanted. I felt so conflicted. I wanted this, but I felt bad for wanting this. I would love that, but I felt like if I said it I was asking too much. I loved Asher and I felt like I could tell him everything; or, everything except this. Would he even understand? I thought he would, or at least that he'd try, but I still felt nervous whenever I thought of explaining it to him.

  "We'll figure it out," he said, smiling. "I promise."

  "Are you sure?" I asked, looking up at him.

  He nodded and that was it. I put my arms around him
and held him close. He squeezed me tight, holding the small of my back. We stood there like that, embracing, swaying slightly back and forth, just us.

  "We should go," we both said at the same time. Then we both laughed.

  "Who did you invite?" I asked, curious.

  "Oh, you know? Just some people."

  "Asher, who?" I pressed, laughing some more. "My mother and father, and Elise and Lucent, but who else?"

  "Oh, you know?" he said again. When I glared at him, playful, he relented. "Jeremy, of course. A few of my business acquaintances, but most people will be arriving later for the company celebration. I wasn't sure who else to invite, so I asked your mother, and she—"

  I interrupted him. "You asked my mother?" I asked.

  "Yes? Is that alright?"

  "Well... I guess so. It's not that it's not alright, but it might be a little strange."

  "Hm?"

  How should I phrase this? "She probably invited some of my friends from high school. I love them, I do. They're my friends. Maybe some from college, too. It's... we don't really hang out much now, though, you know? I don't know. I haven't spent a lot of time with them in awhile, that's all."

  I hadn't spent a lot of time with a lot of people, truth be told. Sometimes I felt like some princess living high up in a castle tower somewhere, only able to look out into the forest around my home, wondering what had happened to everyone. I wasn't locked away, per se, but my life was so different now and I didn't really know what to do sometimes. Yes, my college friends, and my friends from school before that, but... could I just invite them over sometime? I imagined asking some of them if they wanted to come to dinner at the Landseer estate; or, I tried to imagine this, but I couldn't even fathom it. It seemed so odd and impossible for some reason.

  When I first met Asher, we'd gone to a fancy Japanese restaurant, and I knew exactly how much it would cost because I'd wanted to go there for a long time. It was expensive; too expensive. Now, though, I didn't even know what we paid for most things. I looked, yes, and I tried to be frugal because I disliked the idea of just wastefully spending Asher's money, but he wouldn't let me think like that. It was us, our money, our purchases.