by Jade Maxwell
"What is it?" he asked none too kindly.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Sir. But it's your mother. She's asking for you. Please hurry."
Roderick, quickly joined by Laila, sped to his mother's room.
***
Soon after their arrival, Sarah had passed away, her eyes alighting at one last sight of her son, before she slipped away.
Roderick spared no expense for the "homegoing service"-in accordance with her Southern upbringing. The church was filled to capacity on the early winter day a week after Sarah's death. Roderick was racked with grief over the loss of his dear mother, work his only solace. He worked far into the night and by the time he came to bed, Laila was usually sound asleep, after yet another night of waiting for him in vain.
Chapter 8
Six months later
Laila had grown tired of pretending. That she wasn't in love. That she didn't want a real husband rather than her constantly absent one. She wanted to comfort him. But when she attempted, Roderick rebuffed her. And any day she expected him to release her from their contract, now that his mother was gone.
She couldn't take it, the expectation of her dismissal from his life. So she withdrew all of the money he had given her and had obtained a cashier’s check in the amount that he had given her. She couldn't keep Roderick's money. If it were to be over, then it would be best to sever all ties.
Her bags were packed, seated by the large oak door as she prepared to call Roderick's driver. She cast one last glance around the bedroom then strode to the door, which opened just then.
Roderick first spied the suitcases, then Laila's staid expression, finally the envelope on the vanity.
"Going somewhere?"
"I am."
"Where exactly are you going?"
"I'm leaving Whidham Bay. I'm leaving you, Roderick."
Leaving? Roderick felt like a cannon had just been fired into his chest. He repeated his wife.
"Leaving? And why is that, Laila?"
"I can't do this anymore. I just can't. You're always gone, never here. It seems as if you don't need me anymore and I don't want to be a bother. Obviously, I've overstayed my welcome and it's best that I go."
"Is it?" he queried, evenly.
"Yes." She crossed to the mahogany hued vanity to retrieve the envelope. “Here is a cashier’s check in the full amount of the funds you have deposited since we married. It's all there. I think it's better that I return the funds, although I appreciate your generosity."
"I don't want the money, nor do I need it. Why are you really leaving, what are you running from? I know that I've been preoccupied, with thoughts of mother, work but..."
"I understand. Believe me, I do. But you never talk to me. It's as if I don't exist. I can't help you, comfort you. I feel helpless and I keep expecting that any day you'll tell me that it's over. Our contract, our marriage. Everything. I can't bear the uncertainty. Perhaps it's not me that you want. Or need. And then there's Summer"...she trailed off, hurt by the thought of her husband in the arms of his very attractive assistant.
"Ms. Emerson? Summer? No. Why she's engaged to Rhys Barrett, the financier. I've never thought of dating an employee. Of breaking that rule, until you. I'd break every rule for you, cherie."
Roderick assured her,
"I'm sorry if it seems that I didn't care or that you weren't a priority. I shouldn't have pushed you away. Taken you for granted. I love you, Laila. So much so that I can't imagine my life without you in it. That is why I made you my wife. You've ruined me for any other woman. There's no one else that I could ever want. And if you're honest, I think that you feel the same way." The depth of emotion he saw reflected in Laila's brown eyes just then was unquestionable.
He pulled her to him, lifted her chin.
"Tell me you that don't feel the same way? That you don't think of me. Ache for me, love me," he finished throatily.
"If you can tell me that, then I'll be done. The way you seem to be done right now. But I won't have you leave until you tell me the truth."
Laila gazed into his molten eyes, her heart untethered. She couldn't deny him. Couldn't deny the love that was forever etched in her heart. The thought of leaving him physically hurt, her being indelibly marked by her all encompassing love for him.
"I do. I love you, Roderick. I just thought you, I thought you that didn't feel the same way."
"There was never any chance of that. I felt it from the first moment that I saw you. All that I am, is yours. I love you, Laila Channing, and now I'm going to show you just how much."
He claimed her mouth, taking possession as his tongue lead hers, consuming her as if starved by an insatiable need. A need that only she could fulfill. Laila's mouth welcomed his as she wound her fingers through his hair, drawing him in closer. As he laid her on the canopied bed, His mouth continued to rain kisses, descending the slope of her neck, to the delectable apex of her breasts. Slipping off her silken top then the lace demi, he paused, staring at the perfect rise of her full breasts.
"Bellissima."
Laila felt sexy, powerful, and so alive at that moment. She couldn't wait to receive more of this. More of him. It had been too long already. His touch felt vital, as if it were the very air she needed to breath.
He caressed her taut nipples, feasting with his tongue, then gently biting one then the other. She moaned in ecstasy at the pleasure and slight pain. His tongue became velvet, lapping licks down to her navel then beyond. Tearing off her wrap skirt, he felt her black lace panties with his thumb.
"Take them off," she begged, needing to be freed.
Roderick toyed with the lace, briefly teasing her as his thumb rubbed her petals then deeper to her moist core, her mound arched in anticipation.
He eased the covering down, his tongue lowering into her womanly center.
His eyes brimmed with passion, his body firmed by his mission. She felt the large bulge straining his pants and a shudder raced through her body, a primal want that only one man, her man, could fulfill.
“I have to taste you, “Roderick’s voice was thick with desire.
Placing her legs on his shoulders, he sucked her pink manicured toes, relishing each one before moving to her hot entrance. His head buried deep in her folds, licking her clit slowly, intently. His mouth sent flames of euphoria, her body vaulting as she lost control, with his tongue tracing her inner walls, stroking her pearl to the point of no return.
He was determined to make her know how much he loved her, wanted her, and had to have her. Claiming her, spoiling her for any other man. Ever. She cried out, reveling in the feel of his agile tongue, spasms rippling through her body in one climax then another, slivers of fire exploding from within.
She wanted to please him, just as much as he had pleased her. Rising, she pushed him beneath her, frantically removed his shirt then the barrier of his heavy buckle and pants, revealing that he wore no hindrance of undergarments.
She took him in her mouth, licking his long manhood before lining the rim of his head with her tongue, blowing softly on the head. She wasn't sure if she could possess the whole length and width of him but she did, drawing in his manhood. She sucked him, stroking his sac in cadence. As her mouth tantalized his girth, birthing elation unlike anything he had ever experienced, Roderick felt his loins pulsing, straining for sweet eruption. He knew that soon he would come. Not wanting to expel in her mouth, he needed to be inside her. Right then. In one swift motion, he lifted her, pulling her skin to skin at he lay her on the bed, mounting her. Thrusting, he entered her to the hilt, wanting her to take in all of him. One leg on his shoulder, the other bent at his waist. He banged her thoroughly as her cries of passion crescendoed, bouncing off the walls, until she was nearly hoarse, incoherent. She moved to his rhythm, milking him. And with each flex of his strong hips, he made her his.
"Say you're mine."
She was breathless.
"Say you're mine," he growled, driving further inside.
 
; "I'm yours," she moaned, not wanting him to stop, her center stretched to receive him.
Her nails laid half circles in his back as flames of ecstasy surged through her, the erotic friction of their bodies catapulting her to a new level of rhapsody. Her sugar walls clamped around his thick member, urging him on in sensual revelry.
"Turn over," he commanded her, his voice low and hoarse, sweat permeating the rippled muscles of his arms and chest as his eyed raked her luscious body.
She willingly did so. She would have done anything for him at that moment, loving the feel of their long delayed union.
He took her from behind, claiming her hot, wet channel. Pulling her hair gently, he pounded again and again, his large hands palming her derriere. Her feminine core was so warm, so tight. Taylor made for him. Their bodies synchronized in sensual delight and soon she was climaxing in rivers.
"Roderick!"
He tried to delay the inevitable culmination as he thrust again and again, deeper and deeper, rubbing her clit at the same time.
He couldn't hold off any longer. His body convulsed and he threw his head back, roaring her name as he came in a rush of heat, filling her with his seed. He lingered deep inside her, not wanting to withdraw from her succulent warmth.
When he finally rose up on his side, he turned her towards him, kissing her palm then each finger tenderly, before drawing her against the full length of him. Spent, unbridled pleasure encompassed the both of them, their hearts thundering in symphony. He laid his arm around her waist, her head nestled under his. This was what he craved, this night and every night. She was his woman, his wife, His forever.
There was nowhere else she would rather be, now assured that her love was reciprocated. Mind, body and soul. She was bound, to her beloved Billionaire.
The End.
Stay tuned for
Bonded to the Billionaire: I Belong to You (Book 2)
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Much Thanks,
Jade