Snowed In: A Billionaire Winter Novella

by Linnea May

  I am having trouble keeping up eye contact with him. Instead, my eyes travel along his chest, down to the lines along his pelvis until further examination is inhibited by his suit pants and a black leather belt.

  “Like what you're seeing?” he asks, throwing me a confident smile.

  I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I am happy to hear that,” he says, approaching me.

  I tilt my head back to look up at him as he comes to halt directly in front of me, his crotch only a few inches away from my face.

  “Open my belt,” he orders. “Without using your hands.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I rise up on my knees so that I am able to reach the buckle of his belt with my teeth. The belt is rather thin, so it is not hard to lift it up with my teeth and pull it through the belt loop and loosen the clasps by pulling on it a little more. It does get a little trickier when I try to open the buckle. I am drooling all over his costly clothing and almost get my lower lip stuck in the buckle, but it just won't move.

  “This is pathetic,” he comments, looking down on me while I struggle with his belt buckle.

  I blush, angry and embarrassed at this task and my failure to complete it satisfactorily.

  Soon, he has enough of my attempts and pulls my head back by the hair.

  “You may use your hands,” he says. “Open it, remove the belt and hold it up with both your hands.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper, disappointed at myself. “I'm sorry.”

  “You will be,” he says simply.

  I do as I am told and remove the belt, which is done within a moment now that I am allowed to use my hands. I wipe off my own drool at the part around the buckle and fold the heavy leather in half, holding the belt up to him with both my hands.

  My head is low, my eyes fixated on my strong thighs, illustrating the shame I feel about not being able to complete the task I was given.

  “Good girl,” he praises nonetheless. “Now, turn around, rest your arms on the sofa and present that perfect ass to me.”

  He takes the belt out of my hands.

  I shiver as I follow his orders and begin to realize what is going to happen next. My arms rest on the seating surface of the sofa and I slightly part my knees, knowing that it will show my body in a more beautiful shape.

  “Ass up!” he snaps.

  I hollow my back and stick my ass up as high as possible, exposing my throbbing center in the process.

  “Do you know what is going to happen next?” he wants to know, gently stroking the belt along my spine.

  I nod with my head low. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You are going to spank me.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I didn't please you,” I answer.

  “No,” he objects. “You do please me. You wouldn't be here if you didn't, Ava.”

  I gulp. My entire body is vibrating with anticipation. I have never been spanked before, not like this at least. Not with a belt, and not with this kind of preparation involved.

  This ritualized manner of foreplay is new to me—and so fucking arousing.

  “Because I couldn't take off your belt with my teeth,” I try again. Even my voice is shaking.

  “Yes, among other things,” he says. “You were are ashamed about that beautiful body I adore so much. You forgot to address me properly, several times. That calls for punishment, don't you think?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper.

  He slides the belt over my behind, gently patting it as if he was practicing. I flinch and shiver every time the leather touches my skin. The anticipation is playing havoc with my mind.

  “Please,” I breathe.

  “Please what?” he asks.

  I don't know. I don't know what I am begging for. Am I asking for pain?

  He removes the belt from my behind, and for a while, nothing happens. I shudder and notice myself moving my hips back and forth, dizzy and warm with arousal and prospect.

  It happens suddenly and without further warning. The first stroke cuts into my thick flesh like a fiery knife. I yelp in pain and my head flies back into my neck before the second blow hits my skin. It hurts, it really fucking hurts, more than anything anyone has ever done to me. The pain is fierce and blinding me, even with my eyes wide open.

  Strike after strike rains down on my skin, each more painful than the one before. Soon, tears of pain are rolling down my cheeks and I yelp uncontrollably, trying to process the agony that each new blow unleashes on me.

  Yet, it is the release I have been waiting for. All sanity and control has left my mind and body. I feel like I am flying through the pain, reaching new heights of ecstasy without the help of any substances.

  He stops and throws the belt aside. It lands on the floor a few feet away from me.

  “Turn around,” he orders.

  I am sweating and shivering. I am sure that the tears have smeared the little makeup I had on my face, so I make sure to keep my head low while I follow his order.

  But of course, he does not accept that.

  “Look at me,” he orders.

  I slowly tilt my head up to look up at him. He smiles and nods in approval.

  “Perfect. You look stunning,” he says while he unbuttons his pants.

  Even without directly looking at it, I can tell that he is hard and showing a considerable bulge beneath his suit pants.

  “Keep your eyes up, look at me,” he reminds me when I am about to lower my eyes to his crotch, where he is about to free his erection in front of my face.

  “Look at me,” he repeats. “And open your mouth.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper and do as I am told.

  “Good girl,” he praises, and a moment later, I can taste the tip of his cock on my tongue.

  He teases me for a while, sliding his cock along my lips as if he were applying lipstick to them, before he dives inside. He is huge and hard as rock. Even when he only inserts about half of himself, I struggle with accommodating him inside my mouth. But he pushes further, pressing against the back of my throat and causing me to gag.

  I instinctively close my eyes, but he reminds me to keep them open and on his, looking up at him while I choke on his impressive length. He grabs a fistful of my hair at the back of my head and starts pushing me back and forth, thrusting himself in and out in the process.

  “Yes, good girl,” he breathes while continuing to shove his cock in and out of my mouth. “Very good girl.”

  He presses me against his pelvis, his hard cock pushed against the back of my throat, and holds me in place like this. I gag and choke, suffocated by his length, while tears and saliva are dropping to the floor beneath us.

  “Stay like this and don't let go,” he commands before he slowly starts to step back, dragging me with him. I stumble on my knees, blinded by tears and fighting for air as we slowly approach the bedroom behind him. I support myself by grabbing onto his pants for dear life, pinned against his crotch while his hard cock is throbbing deep in my throat.

  He releases me once we have reached the bedroom and I desperately pant for air while thin lines of saliva stretch between my lips and his massive cock.

  “On the bed,” he orders. “On your back, legs up and spread for me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I utter, accompanied by frantic coughing.

  I climb on the lavish bed and position myself the way he asked me to while he steps out of his pants. Finally!

  He stands next to the bed for a few moments, stroking his beautiful erection, still wet with my saliva, while he looks down on me. The sore skin on my behind is burning as it is pressed against the soft sheets beneath me. The throbbing sensation is only adding to my arousal.

  He climbs on the bed and positions himself above me, his hands placed next to my head respectively.

  “I am going to fuck you now,” he whispers, planting a kiss on my trembling lips. “Like you have never been fucked before.”

  I moan when he moves d
own, kissing and licking along the line of my neck and my collarbone until he reaches my breasts. He sits back on his heels so he no longer depends on the support of his arms and can move them down to massage my voluptuous breasts.

  I arch my back and moan when he starts twisting my sensitive nipples between his fingers, pinching and squeezing them while I squirm with pleasure.

  “These are so beautiful,” he whispers before he starts sucking on them, his tongue circling around my right nipple first, then the left.

  Playing with my breasts like that is like turning a switch. I want him so bad. I need him.

  “Please,” I breathe again.

  “Please what?” he asks again.

  Only this time, I know what to reply.

  “Please fuck me,” I whisper. “Please, Sir. Fuck me.”

  “With pleasure,” he breathes. “You deserve it, beautiful.”

  He straightens up and produces a condom from God knows where, well prepared as he has shown himself to be this entire evening.

  Moments later, his tip is pressed against my entrance, teasing me. I instinctively move my hips toward him, inviting him in, which makes him smile.

  “Impatient little slut,” he says, smiling as he shoves himself inside of me.

  A gasp of surprise and pleasure escapes my lips as he stretches me with his enormous member.

  He leans over me, pushing himself inside of me until his pelvis is pressed against my center. I moan and reach out for him, desperate to touch his chiseled chest that is hovering above me, but he grabs my wrists and pushes my arms down on the sheets above my head before he begins fucking me relentlessly. He thrusts his rock hard cock in and out of me like a wild animal with no regard to anything but his desire for me.

  I yelp and squirm beneath him, pinned down by his sheer strength and force while he has his way with me, fucking me like no one else has before.

  All this build-up has my climax approaching fast, way too fast. I don't want to come yet, but when he pins my wrists together above my head, holding them down with one hand while the other travels beneath us, there is nowhere else for me to go but along with the explosive vertigo accompanies my release.

  He massages my clit while ramming his cock inside of me, following my climax only few moments later as my muscles clench around him in desperate need.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ava

  “Wow, Ava,” he breathes, lying next to me while I am wrapped up in his arms, feeling small and vulnerable, but oh so fucking good.

  “Wow, yourself,” I tease him, for which I receive a loving pinch in the butt, right on my tortured skin.

  “Ouch!” I yelp. “That is going to hurt for a while.”

  “I hope so,” he says. “I don't want you to forget about tonight.”

  “I won't,” I whisper. “Even without the pain, I could never forget.”

  He squeezes me. “Good girl.”

  “So, am I right to assume that you enjoyed yourself?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yes, Sir. A lot.”

  That is a major understatement. But what else could I possibly say? Please, let's do it again? Please, let's do this all the time and have a nice dinner together afterward? Please, Derek, the hottest man I have ever been with and who is way out of my league, please want to be mine as much as I want to be yours?

  Sure. That is what a man like him would want to hear after a good fuck.

  “You were well prepared,” I say instead. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

  “I wouldn't say I planned it,” he says. “But I was hoping for it, yes. And it never hurts to be prepared.”

  “So, the room, the suit, the condom,” I list. “All of this is ready to go for you whenever you... feel the need?”

  He looks at me with indignation.

  “I am not the kind of playboy you take me for, Ava,” he says. “Even though I may not have behaved much like the gentleman I promised on the first day we met.”

  I giggle. “Oh, I don't think there was anything inappropriate about your behavior.”

  “There was,” he insists. “You are just the little minx I hoped you to be. Sexy, obedient and naughty.”

  He squeezes me with his strong arm and plants a kiss on my forehead.

  I smile. My hand is resting on his perfect abs, stroking along the sexy little hills of his incredible muscles. Never in a thousand years did I expect myself to ever come close to a man like him, let alone touch him or be desired and fucked by him.

  “You are so out of my league,” I whisper the uncomfortable truth.

  “Nonsense,” he objects. “Stop saying things like that. It is insulting—to yourself and to me.“

  He strokes along my upper arm and gently squeezes my breast.

  “You are beautiful just the way you are,” he whispers. “Sensual, fierce and elegant. I loved watching you work out. Your strength and determination is beautiful, as are your curves.”

  I blush at his words. How can he be so utterly sweet to me?

  “Thank you,” I whisper helplessly.

  He pinches me again and I flinch.

  “Thank you, Sir,” I correct myself.

  “Do you think we could do this again?” he asks.

  “Well, there’s one more Advent Sunday coming up,” I say.

  “Oh, and after that you’re done with me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “Um, I’m… no,” I stutter. “But by then you might be done with me.”

  He sighs. “Right now, I don’t feel like I could ever be done with you.”

  “Wow,” I breathe. “This is seriously the best Christmas season ever.”

  “It is for me, too,” he agrees, planting another kiss on my cheek. “So, you’re not done with me? Not now and not once Christmas is over?”

  I chuckle. “I hardly believe so.”

  “Good,” he says. “Because I have a lot more in store for you. Let’s just hope my magic works on you even when the season is over.”

  I look at him, this Adonis of a man who thinks I could be a good match for him. There’s a sinister darkness about him that I’ve yet to figure out, but if he lets me in, I don’t think there’s anything that could chase me away. Even after only seeing him twice, I feel so much closer to him than any other man I’ve dated before.

  That means something.

  “I can't believe how lucky I am,” I say. “Who would have thought that winning a silly Christmas party raffle would lead to this? To you.”

  “We're both lucky,” he whispers. “So, why leave it at this? It would be foolish to stop now, wouldn't you agree?”

  I snuggle up to him, smiling.

  “Yes, I would agree, Sir.”

  Thank you for reading!

  Want to know more about Lena & Jason from ‘Snowed In’? There is going to be an extended epilog to their story very soon – exclusively for my newsletter subscribers!

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  Also by Linnea May (selection)

  TAMED: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  BARRED: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  Master Class: A Billionaire Romance

  Silent Daughter: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  VIOLENT DELIGHTS: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  VIOLENT CRAVINGS: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  VIOLENT HEARTS: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  VIOLENT DESIRES: A Dark Billionaire Romance

  … Curious to read more?

  Continue reading with another exclusive Christmas novella on the next page.

  Naughty Night

  This novella was part of the anthology ‘We Wish You a Naughty Christmas’ in December 2016. In this quick & sexy read, Sybil enjoys a very special Christmas Eve with her handsome billionaire boss Landen Clark.

  Chapter One

  Sybil

  How pathetic am I? It’s Christmas Eve, approaching 4:00 p.m., and unlike everybody else,
I have nowhere to go. While everyone around me is getting ready to go home to their families, I’m in my office’s kitchen, helping myself to another cup of tea. I’m going to be here all evening, and I need my green tea to get through.

  Outside, a thick layer of snow is covering the neighborhood in its white coat of tranquility. We rarely get a white Christmas in this city and I'm loving the sight of it. There’s a cozy sense of home and comfort to it, even here, so far away from home.

  The sound of familiar footsteps echoes through the silence and causes me to turn toward the door.

  “You’re still here?” my coworker Melanie asks. She’s standing in the doorway, dressed and ready to go, holding the paper bag with the present our boss gave to everyone today in her hand. Mr. Stark made sure that everyone got one and every bag was the same size, so I assume that we all got the same assortment of expensive chocolates or some kind of decorative knickknack from a designer store that none of us could afford. I haven’t even opened mine yet.

  “Yeah, Mr. Stark asked me to finish up on some files before the holidays,” I tell her, hoping that I don’t sound too pathetic.

  “But, the holidays are starting now,” Melanie insists, cocking her head to the side. “It’s Christmas Eve! Everybody is going home.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “At least not today. I’m not leaving for my parents’ place until tomorrow afternoon.”

  I regret my words as soon as I say them. Melanie’s eyes widen in shock and empathy.

  “Oh my God, Sybil, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she exclaims, as if I’d just told her that someone died. “If I had known, I would have invited you to stay with us tonight and-”

  “It’s okay, really,” I try to calm her. “I have so much to do, and I get to see them tomorrow. Besides, Mr. Stark is paying me overtime, and I could really use the money.”

  “Oh, I see,” Melanie says, not even trying to hide how sorry she feels for me. “Well, he better pay you double extra for this.”

  She pauses and checks if anyone else is around before she leans in closer and whispers: “I mean, I know it’s hard to say to 'no' to him, but asking you to stay late on Christmas Eve is really something, even coming from Mr. Stark. Especially when he’s not working himself.”