BLACKMAIL_A billionaire blackmail romance

by Chloe Fischer

  “Please! Don’t stop…just a little…” she reached back trying to grasp his buttock to pull him deeper into her.

  He grasped both of her wrists, pulling them up over her head against the door. “Uh uh,” he chastised. “You need to learn the proper way to speak to me, don’t you Ayla? Nobody demands things from me. And certainly not an apology.” He accentuated each word with a short jab of his cock into her. Just enough to keep her body primed, begging for more, but not enough to give her any relief.

  “So have you learned the proper way to speak to me, yet?”

  Ayla was going to go crazy, she was sure of it. How could he taunt her at a time like this? Her body was on fire, her core clenching hard around his cock, ready to offer him anything to just allow her to come.

  Ayla’s breathing was sharp and erratic, and he gave her a few hard, deep thrusts, just enough to put her right at the edge again. He could feel her about to climax beneath him. He watched as her open palms became closed fists against the heavy wooden door but before she could explode, he pulled back, relishing her exclamation of surprise.

  She spun to confront him, but he was ready for her, pressing her back and sliding her cheeks apart again.

  He slid himself up and down between the crack, feeling her relax as she realized he was going back inside but when he re-entered her, it was in her most vulnerable spot.

  It was delicious, the wicked tightness of the hole, the stretching burning sensation she felt all through her core. The shock of it made her clench hard momentarily, she thought briefly that she needed to protest. Wasn’t he supposed to ask permission or something? She felt confused, but then her body caught back up. The sensations reaching out from her ass and building in her pussy. She moaned and protested at the same time, sensations building again as he jabbed inside her, feeling his member engorge fully.

  “Wait!” she gasped but there was no more waiting.

  Diren had never felt anything so good. So fucking hot. Her body hugged him tightly, quivering and relaxing in turn, trying to draw him in. Her loud moans spurred him on as she arched her back. He knew he wouldn’t last long, his usually steely control deserting him as his traitorous body wound itself tightly, his balls drawing up, readying to explode.

  He reached his hand around and found her clit, her body jerking wildly as he rubbed her bundle of nerves. With only moments before he couldn’t hold back his impending orgasm, he tapped her clit hard, giving it a sharp little slap. The stimulation pushed her over the edge, and she cried out loudly as her body convulsed in orgasm. That was his cue to let himself go. He blew his load entirely inside her, throwing his head back and feeling the tendons bulge from his neck, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his shout. Never did the sounds of pleasure emanating from his office come from him. He saw that as a total lack of control, but he had never had to work so hard to keep the loud growl from escaping., feeling her tense against the hot stream emanating from him.

  Ayla released a low moan as she came back to herself, the tremors of her orgasm finally dying down. As soon as she could think clearly again she was filled with anger, but her ire only drove him to higher ecstasy.

  His hands loosened against her and he slipped out of her, licking his lips as she whirled to gape at him.

  “What the hell was that?” she demanded, her eyes bright with fury and orgasm.

  Diren was sure he had never been more entranced by a woman in his life.

  Ayla was a beautiful mix of innocence and Byzantine woman. The combination was delicious and despite having just climaxed, Diren felt another tug in his groin as he studied her infuriated face.

  “You wanted an apology,” he replied, strolling toward his private bathroom to wipe himself down.

  When he returned a moment later, Ayla had collected herself, but her face was still a mask of irritation.

  “Is my apology accepted?” he asked smoothly, flopping down at his desk, but instead of dismissing her, he kept his slate grey eyes trained on her face.

  She gaped at him as if she didn’t know what to say.

  He could see the wheels turning in her head through the light of her clear blue eyes.

  I would pay good money to spend five minutes in her head, he thought to himself, stifling a smile. I bet there’s enough going on in there to fill a series of novels.

  “I won’t be like Delia,” she finally blurted out, and Diren felt an eyebrow raise.

  “I can’t imagine you would be,” he replied shortly, a peculiar feeling of concern touching the back of his neck. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I am not going to sleep with you and then be cast aside because you’re bored with me.”

  The words were so bluntly honest, Diren was impressed.

  I don’t know many women who would spit it out like that, he thought and suddenly his eyes narrowed.

  “Are you recording this?” he asked, rising menacingly from his leather chair.

  Ayla’s face paled and she gritted her teeth together, shaking her head.

  “Of course not!” she replied, shocked, tossing her phone onto his desk as she strode toward him. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Diren continued to search her face, unconvinced.

  What was it about her which he found so difficult to pinpoint? Why did he want to trust her but toss her out at the same time?

  Of course you can never trust her, he thought crossly. She’s no different than any of the others.

  He cleared his throat.

  “What did you find out - what did Delia say?” he demanded, but to his surprise, Ayla shook her head.

  “I’m sorry,” she retorted gently, lifting her chin obstinately. “I was under the impression that I was fired.”

  They stared at one another, their wills clashing but she maintained eye contact…bravely, a look which was already becoming familiar to Diren despite only having the girl in his employ for two days.

  The first day she insults my ex-wife, the next day she comes in drunk. We’re off to a wonderful start, he thought dryly. At least she isn’t predictable.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped crossly. “Tell me what you found out.”

  Ayla acquiesced, realizing that she had likely pushed him to a limit that few reached and still maintained their employment. She retrieved her phone to pull up the recordings.

  “She didn’t say too much that was incriminating,” she said dryly. “But you can listen for yourself.”

  She played her conversations with Delia and Diren listened intently. He could see her studying his face for a reaction.

  As Ayla had said, Delia hadn’t spoken about accounts or personal client information but the allegations of a relationship between them could be damning if it fell into the wrong hands.

  I have to nip this is in the bud before it goes any further, he thought as he listened. I’ll slap her with a pre-emptive lawsuit before she goes around blabbing to anyone who will listen.

  “That’s it?” he asked when the voices stopped, and Ayla nodded.

  “As I said, nothing worth getting upset over.”

  He stared at her pensively.

  “You don’t think I should be upset that she’s claiming we had a sexual relationship?”

  Ayla snorted and Diren felt himself bristle.

  “Just because you and I – “ he started to say, and Ayla pursed her lips together.

  “It’s none of my business,” she told him, rising from the chair. “But given your reputation, Mr. Benning, I don’t see why this is such a big deal. It’s not like she was broadcasting trade secrets or something.”

  It was Diren’s turn for his jaw to drop.

  “My reputation?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?”

  Her dark eyebrows shot up dubiously.

  “I…” she trailed off, clamping her mouth shut, realizing that she did not want to have this conversation. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.”

  She waited, her blue eyes staring down at the car
pet as if waiting for instruction and he stared at her for a long minute.

  Well, no one can say she doesn’t have guts – or a brain injury, Diren thought with a mental shake of his head. He didn’t know a single employee who would have the nerve to point out to him that he was a manwhore.

  She must have realized belatedly that calling her boss a walking vagina invader may have offended him a wee bit. She looked down, a tiny bit embarrassed, but then decided fuck it – it’s not like he didnn’t know how many women he’s slept with.

  “You don’t think I should sue her for breach of contract?” he finally asked, and Ayla’s head jerked up.

  “Because she slept with you and told me about it?” she asked, shocked by the idea. “No, I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Mr. Benning. And what’s more, she doesn’t even seem that angry about being let go. I don’t think she particularly enjoyed working for you – the sex part aside, apparently,” she muttered with an eyeroll. Aaand I just keep going, she mentally slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back any more brilliant statements that her suicidal brain may think would advance her life goals.

  Diren felt his mouth fall open further.

  Who is this woman talking to me like this?

  “You are pretty brazen for a girl who comes to work drunk on her second day,” he snapped, an unreasonable anger growing inside him.

  Delia liked working for me. I don’t like being made to feel as if I am a predator, stalking these women. They throw themselves at me and I think she’s suggesting that I’m the man taking advantage of the situation. Just because they are naive enough to think that getting a place in my bed will get them ahead in some way. That’s not my fault. That’s their own social climbing idiotic reasoning.

  “It won’t be a habit, Mr. Benning,” she replied, and he could see she was supressing a sigh.

  Another smidgen of guilt coursed through him.

  He realized that his assistant was staring at him, waiting for direction.

  “Go home and sleep it off, Ayla. In the future, I would prefer if you keep your alcohol consumption to a reasonable level during work days. This isn’t Mad Men. We run a respectable business here.”

  She nodded, shifting her gaze and turning to leave. The irony in his statement was not lost on her.

  “Yes, Mr. Benning.”

  “Ayla?” he called as she reached the door. She paused.

  “Yes?”

  “Have Catrina call the car service for you. I don’t want you walking through the streets of Manhattan half in the bag.”

  She peered at him, a little surprised at his apparent gallant order and nodded quickly, slipping out of the inner office and leaving Diren to sit back pondering what had just happened.

  That was stupid. I shouldn’t have touched her. It won’t happen again.

  He turned his attention back to his computer, trying to focus on his work but he could not stop his mind from straying to memories of the spectacular sex they had just had. And then he would catch a whiff of her perfume on his body and his cock would twitch.

  Stop it, he scolded himself. It won’t happen again.

  But no matter how many times he tried to play the refrain over in his head, he knew even then that he was lying to himself.

  Chapter Seven

  The town car stopped outside her duplex and Ayla muttered a thank you before gathering her purse and stumbling up the walkway toward her apartment.

  The effects of the vodka were beginning to wear off and she felt the onset of a pounding headache tickling the corners of her mind as she unlocked her door.

  Throughout the drive home from Manhattan, Ayla had tried to reconcile what had happened in the office with her boss.

  Did that actually just occur or am I drunker than I thought? She wondered, cringing. There was little doubt that she had allowed her boss to have his way with her although why she had done it, she couldn’t be certain.

  Was it the alcohol? Because holy hell, she had never had such hot and dirty sex in her life. She wasn’t surprised that Diren had the chance to bed every socialite, model, and assistant that came his way. The man was hot dominance on a stick, with a side of fuck-me-again-please.

  She scoffed aloud at the idea that she would let that happen again as she made her way into the back bedroom, tossing her purse on the hall table and undoing her blouse.

  As she slipped out of the shirt, she could still see the red marks on her skin from his tight grip, a fission of pleasure exploding through her body as she remembered how Diren had touched her.

  She had never been handled so roughly and Ayla still wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Who am I kidding? My body is still singing his praises.

  I need a shower and a nap, she thought, shaking her head. The entire day had seemed like a dream. She was sure when she woke, she would be much clearer and filled with self-loathing.

  God, Sonia was right about me. I can’t tell her about this. She’ll never let me live it down.

  Pushing open the door, she reasoned that there was no need to tell her best friend about what had happened.

  She could blame it on the alcohol and leave it at that.

  It’s definitely never going to happen again so let’s just forget it ever happened in the first place.

  She slipped off her now wrinkled skirt and tossed it into the hamper, pulling her underwear from her body and found her way into the bathroom.

  Ayla scrutinized herself in the mirror, cringing as she saw exactly how many marks Diren had left on her.

  Immediately, her mind wandered to Catrina who had sat glaring at her from behind the reception desk when she asked the woman to order her a car.

  God, it was written all over me. I should have just taped a bright red “A” on me before leaving Diren’s office.

  She wondered why she hadn’t prepared herself for the inevitable.

  You knew about his reputation. Your best friend warned you against him. How did you not see it coming?

  The answer was multi-faceted.

  The short response was that Ayla never believed that she was sexy enough to capture the attention of a man like Diren Benning.

  And why would she? She was white trash from Tallman. What kind of refined, rich man would ever cast a girl like her a second look, let alone a romp in the hay?

  In spite of how many men came onto her, or told her how beautiful she was, Ayla still thought she was unworthy. But over the past few years, as she had built a life for herself all on her own, she had come to realize that she didn’t care what others thought. Her spine had stiffened and her chin had started to lift. What she didn’t realize was how much her newfound confidence added to her allure. Now she had the looks and the attitude to go with it.

  She recalled how offended Delia had seemed when Ayla had questioned their relationship.

  “Why is that so surprising? I’m not hot enough to bang the big boss?” the sultry redhead had asked, and Ayla had been certain that Diren would easily find Delia attractive. Any man would.

  But something else occurred to Ayla too, something which put her ego right back in check.

  Men like Diren Benning don’t see you as a woman, she reminded herself tersely. He sees you as a conquest. He does this with everyone. Don’t flatter yourself.

  Ayla sighed and entered the shower, blasting the hot water as hot as she could stand it. Those were the showers she enjoyed; scalding temperatures where she felt as if she was scrubbed of all her old cells by the time she exited.

  A wave of nausea seized her as she leaned back to rinse her hair.

  Let the hangover begin, she thought grimly, rinsing herself off but turning down the heat slightly so as to not encourage the bile inching its way up her windpipe.

  She grabbed for a towel and wrapped it around her body, forsaking any of the usual beauty rituals as she entered her bedroom.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake!” she snapped, her heart thudding crazily as she stared at the form in her bedroom.

 
Ryland sprawled on her bed, an evil grin on his face.

  “Oh hey, sis. I didn’t think you’d be home from work yet,” he said, sitting up slowly as she glared at him.

  “Get out,” she spat. “I’m not feeling well.”

  Ryland’s smile faded slightly as he studied her body with too much interest.

  Ayla secured the towel tightly around her, scowling.

  “Oh, what’s wrong?” he cooed. “Tummy ache?”

  “Ryland, get out!” she yelled, her desire to banter with her borderline psychotic step-brother non-existent. “And stop coming by here!”

  Ryland rose lazily.

  “I just wanted to see how the new job is going,” he told her, sounding hurt but Ayla was not fooled. “You don’t have to be such an ungrateful bitch.”

  There it is.

  “Well, I would be so much nicer if you would stop breaking into my house!” she retorted. “Learn to use the phone!”

  Ryland snorted.

  “As if you would ever answer. No, it’s better this way. I get to indulge in the element of surprise,” he replied. “So, how’s it going?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ayla snarled. “At least let me get dressed if you’re going to stay.”

  Ryland folded his arms across his chest and nodded.

  “Go ahead,” he replied, licking his lips in that way which always made her shudder. “I don’t mind.”

  “Get out of my room!” she shouted and suddenly she felt like an insecure teenager again.

  How does this asshole always make me revert back to someone I’m not any longer? She thought furiously as Ryland shrugged. Is he right? Will I never be able to escape Tallman and my trailer park roots?

  Ayla knew there was a very good chance that she would be dragged down the slippery slope she had clawed her way out of if her step-brother continued to harass her.

  What is it going to take to be rid of him once and for all?

  The answer made her stomach churn dangerously.