His Needs (Billionaire Blind Date Book 2)

by Jacinda Chance

  “Look at that ass,” he breathed, “so dark pink and pretty.” One more smack, harder than the rest, left my skin burning. And then two fingers pushed into me, curling gently, stroking me from within. I cried out at the sudden pleasure.

  “See?” he hissed. “When are you going to learn that I know best, Sophie?”

  His fingers slipped out and down to my clit, where he tapped and rubbed. My stinging backside almost set off the touch, framed it in a way I couldn’t have imagined, and made it more intense.

  “Keep your wrists right where they are. Do you understand me?”

  I gasped at the pleasure coiling so quickly within me. His fingers disappeared, leaving me aching for his touch.

  “Do you understand me?”

  “Y-Yes.”

  Grant let go of my wrists, and I made sure to keep them in place.

  But he scoffed. “I’m not sure you’ll do it.” I felt a jerk and then realized he’d yanked the waist tie of my robe out of its loops. Before I could react, my wrists were bound together tightly. I wriggled them, but couldn’t get them free.

  “Grant—I’m not su—”

  “Shh, Sophie.” He grabbed my hips and jerked me up, so that my ass was higher in the air. “You’re going to come so good for me.”

  I started to protest again, but a hand left another freshly stinging spot on one side of my ass, then the other. It felt raw enough now that I gasped after each blow. I struggled a little, trying to loosen the tie around my wrists enough to get a hand free or know that I could if I wanted. But I was tied too securely.

  I was at his mercy, I realized, and while a tiny surge of panic had me struggling against the tie and trying to move, something about it send heat down my body. It was exciting, even though I didn’t understand it or think it should be. He could do anything to me.

  He moved to my side and struck harder than before, my whole body jerking forward a little each time. After about four more smacks, fingers plunged into me, pumping, fucking me. I found myself pushing back against them, spreading my legs and trying to angle for more contact, so they slid down to rub where I needed it most.

  Grant laughed and used his other hand to spank me while he kept stroking between my legs. “Told you, Sophie,” he breathed, as his teasing fell into sync with the burning smacks of his hand, and with a few quick taps just right, I made a noise like an animal as my inner walls clenched and I came against his hand. He smacked my ass fast and hard as my back arched and I spasmed against his flicking fingers, the pleasure making my thighs tremble while I pushed myself against his hand with as much strength and leverage as I could manage in that position.

  “Fuck,” Grant whispered. The tie pulled at my wrists and was gone with a yank, freeing me. He grabbed my hips and flipped me onto my back, pushing my legs into the air almost all in one movement. His hands under my knees, he thrust forward, filling me in one long stroke.

  I was still in the throes of pleasure, and the way he pumped into me so hard, grinding his hips as our bodies met each time, my orgasm felt drawn out in a thin line of bliss, slowly thickening before another explosion. The fabric of his trousers scraped against my chafed skin, and the small, whimpering noises I made with each thrust seemed like they couldn’t be coming from me. He watched my breasts bouncing, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. The whole bed shook and creaked as he took me like he was possessed.

  He growled something, maybe it was a wordless sound, and then shouted as he slammed forward and came. The little jerks he made while buried in me rubbed against my center enough to throw me into another burst of pleasure. My hands clawed into the covers and my body tightened around him, gripping the hard length inside me.

  When he looked up to my face, our eyes met. His mouth open as he panted, he licked his top lip and then closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, the lustful, dark look of his had changed into something harder and colder. He stroked my thigh for a moment, and then leaned back, his body slipping free of mine and leaving me empty.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, a praise that I was getting used to hearing from him, and that thrilled me more than I would have ever admitted to another woman.

  He took one of my hands and turned it over, examining my wrist. It was a little pink, but nothing more. His thumb rubbed the skin. “Don’t struggle next time,” he said as he dropped my hand and tended to himself, pulling his shirt tail out to cover his pants where they’d gotten damp in front.

  Grant’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Unless that turns you on, of course.”

  I lay on the bed, the robe still on but only on my shoulders and arms. The pendant had slid to one side, surprisingly cool against my breast.

  “A car will be here for you tomorrow at eight,” Grant said. “Be ready.” He glanced at me as he smoothed down his shirt as best he could. I managed to stand and pulled the robe around myself as he went out to the living room where his suit jacket waited over a chair. I followed.

  “Grant . . .”

  He turned as he slid his arms into the finely tailored fabric. “Eight o’clock, Sophie. I can’t wait to see you in that dress.”

  I opened my mouth to say something else, but what? See you tomorrow? Thanks for the incredible orgasms? Finally, I cleared my throat.

  “You don’t have to go, you know.” I hadn’t planned on it coming out quite like that, but okay. “You could . . . stay the night.”

  Grant’s eyes darkened again. I took a deep breath and straightened, and had no idea what his reaction would be. For a moment, I worried he would laugh.

  But he stepped up to me and cupped the back of my neck, his expression unreadable. And then he kissed me, a brush of lips at first that turned into something deeper, hungrier. The way I’d wanted him to kiss me since he’d walked in the door.

  He nibbled on my bottom lip before leaning back with a smirk that was far more handsome on him than it had any right to be.

  “I told you, I’m not really the bed and champagne type. I fucked you, and now we’re done.” He tapped a finger under my chin. “At least until 8 o’clock tomorrow night.”

  His jaw muscles clenched, and his expression went blank again. Grant spun on his heel and left, only saying, “Don’t make us late,” over his shoulder before he shut the door.

  Five - Grant

  I had to leave. When she said I could stay, I’d never been more tempted to do just that. Not to cuddle and sleep there, though. I wasn’t about to be roped into something like that, no matter how beautiful she was, how soft . . .

  I shook my head. Christ, I knew better than to even let myself think that way. The only acceptable reason for staying was to keep fucking her, keep showing her new things. She wouldn’t have gotten any rest at all.

  I fingered my belt buckle, regretting that I hadn’t even tried it. She’d been so responsive to my hand, taken that so well and gotten so wet, I didn’t want to stop. That and tying her wrists was enough for one night. There would be other chances—many others.

  The emerald hanging between her big tits kept glinting in my mind. God, it looked perfect there, just as I knew it would. When I’d finally fucked her, watched her tits bounce with the emerald sliding between them . . . The memory threatened to make me hard again.

  I wondered if I’d smacked that rounded ass enough that she’d still be tender tomorrow night at the restaurant, and was tempted to go back and make sure I did the job right. The idea of her showing up in that tiny dress, her ass barely covered and slightly sore from my hand, did make my cock start to fill.

  Maybe I should go in and turn her over my knee before the dinner date, make sure her ass and upper thighs were well-pinked from my hand before we went. The dress would hide nothing from anybody. The proof that she was mine would be there in pinks and reds all over her backside.

  I bit my bottom lip and willed away the urge to jack off right in the car, driving. I could wait until tomorrow, though the urge to do a U-turn and relieve myself
with Sophie was strong. The only thing that kept me from it was how much more satisfying it would be to wait and think about the things I was going to do to her.

  And think about how fucking hot she’d look as she resisted at first, like she always did, and then gave in to me—like she always would.

  Six - Sophie

  I fucked you, and now we’re done.

  I’m so stupid, I thought the passionate kiss might have been followed by how he’d like to stay, but had an early meeting, or how he’d love to, but some excuse why he couldn’t. I never expected to be dismissed quite like I was. Done fucking you—what possible reason could there be for me to spend more time with you?

  I laughed at myself after he left, a quick, sharp sound. Work was out for the night, because I couldn’t concentrate on anything but how I felt at that moment. Used. Discarded.

  Which was ridiculous. It’s a business arrangement, remember? I told myself. That’s how he’d referred to it when speaking to Aten, after all. Did I expect tenderness, romance, actual caring out of a business relationship? That’d be crazy.

  I almost went to bed, but I opted to take another shower first. I carefully removed the pendant Grant had given me and lay it on my dresser before I got under the hot spray, cursing the pleasant throbbing between my legs. Maybe this would let me wash him off in a sense so I could sleep.

  I was in bed in an old, oversized T-shirt I sometimes slept in, when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. My cousin Arlene, probably wanting to talk about the wedding. If it had been anyone but her, I’d have let it go to voice mail. But if one person could cheer me up from the sour mood I was in, it was Arlene.

  “Hey, girl,” she said in her husky smoker’s voice when I answered the phone. “What’s up?”

  “I just crawled into bed, but I’m wide awake. What are you doing?”

  “I just wanted to make sure that you’re going to come see me over the wedding weekend. Aunt Carla refused to let us stay in a hotel, so I’ll be at her house until Tuesday. Randy got an extra day off. We need to spend some time—the wedding won’t be enough!”

  “Oh, definitely. I can’t wait.”

  “I also wanted to let you know that Claudia Richmond is apparently going to be there. I know because a few women are already talking about it, and some of it’s gotten back to Aunt Carla.”

  Oh, god. We went to high school with Claudia Richmond of the perpetually bottle-blonde hair and wide-open legs. She stole more boyfriends by being easy than anybody I could remember, and took a lot of pride in doing it. Time hadn’t changed much about her, except she had more wrinkles than most our age thanks to too much tanning in a sunbed most of her life. Claudia would still sleep with anybody who would have her, and if they already had a girlfriend or a wife, that was even better.

  “Maybe I’d better leave Randy at home,” Arlene said, laughing.

  “Maybe!” I agreed, but then I chuckled. “Nah, Randy would never sleep around on you, especially not with someone like Claudia.”

  “Because he knows I’d cut his balls off!” She cackled again, and I found myself looking forward to the wedding if for no other reason than to see her again. It had been a couple of years since we’d visited in person—far too long.

  “Poor Randy,” I said.

  “Poor Randy bought a motorcycle without telling me. No poor Randy for him.” Arlene told me the motorcycle story, and how she made him eat microwaved TV dinners for two weeks after and gotten pissed when he acted like he didn’t care. I knew it wasn’t the money but worry that he’d kill himself on the thing. And Randy liked to drink, so her fears weren’t off-base.

  When she’d told me all about that, and had speculated about how slutty Claudia’s dress would probably look and how she hoped that Nance had managed to pick a wedding dress that actual fit her properly, she said, “So how’s things with you? Please tell me you’re not coming alone?”

  I laughed again. Arlene knew. She’d gone through the same thing until she’d met Randy. Of course, no one in the family but me and a couple other cousins knew that she’d met him when she’d had a few drinks and decided spur of the moment to get a tattoo. He’d been in the shop getting his ear pierced. He always took the tiny gold hoop out when around our family, because it’s just easier. Aunt Carla and her sisters were raised to see tattoos and piercings as some sort of hoodlum activity.

  They had no idea about the unicorn right above Arlene’s butt crack.

  “I have a date, actually.”

  “Yeah, he cute?”

  “He’s . . . gorgeous.”

  Arlene didn’t say anything for a minute, and then, “Whoa. That’s awesome. Does he have a good job?”

  “He’s a . . . business owner.”

  “Self-employed, huh? Like a plumber or a contractor or something?”

  “No, nothing like that. He—”

  “If he’s into Internet marketing or something that Aunt Carla is never going to understand, honey just lie and say he’s a plumber. They make good money and work with their hands. All the old biddies will be creaming themselves with jealousy.”

  I laughed again. “Oh, he makes good money.” And he’s really fucking good with his hands . . . “He’s an international businessman. He owns several companies, and is trying to buy another. He’s extremely wealthy, but they don’t really need to know that level of detail.”

  “So he’s rich? Like a millionaire?” she gasped. “There’s gonna be a heart attack right at the wedding. Probably Josephine, who used to lie and say her first husband was rich but had to go into witness protection to keep her and their kids safe. If you walk in there with a bonafide rich guy, she’s gonna shit a brick.”

  I sat up and whispered into the phone. “He’s bringing me in a limousine, Arlene. I think he likes to show it off a little.”

  “Oh my god. I’m going to take pictures. Not of you and the limo, but the faces of our family watching you step out of it! It’s gonna be great!”

  Relief washed over me at having such a good ally at the wedding. I knew Arlene was before, but now that someone knew my secret and was expecting me to show up with somebody like Grant, I felt better.

  When Arlene asked how we met, I bit the bullet and told her the truth. She squealed no less than six times while I explained how he pretended to be my date and took me to dinner somewhere else, though she agreed it was a little creepy sounding at first. I left out details about the lies that aren’t really lies, and how he fucked me in the men’s room at the restaurant. How he’s demanding, how he tied my wrists and spanked me, how he left.

  I fucked you, and now we’re done.

  “Is he going to be, you know, the one?” Arlene said, sounding as excited as a teenager gossiping about boys after school.

  I considered acting as if I hadn’t slept with him yet. Arlene would have believed me—she knew me, and she knew I didn’t move fast. Knew I was technically a virgin, because I’d cried to her about my past experiences. But I swallowed the knot in my throat and decided that having her as a full ally was worth giving this detail.

  “He already has been. And . . . it was amazing.”

  She gasped, and then I heard clapping. She’d put the phone down and applauded. Laughing, she said, “I’m so thrilled for you, Soph! And I want deets! You have to tell me all about it.”

  I didn’t. I was vague on the details, and never really gave any that she didn’t ask for. I never said we were in a bed, or that I was standing in front of a mirror with him taking me from behind. I said it was thrilling and nerve-wracking and I’d never been so excited or aroused in my life. And that he’d done everything right.

  By the time Arlene and I hung up the phone, I realized that I’d taken a page from Grant’s book. I’d avoided the truth of the matter without really telling a lie.

  Seven

  I woke early the next day, so I dressed in sweats and got back to work on the logo concepts. When the mail came, the business cards I’d ordered arrived. After meeting with Hollis,
I realized I was at a disadvantage by not having a card I could readily hand out. I’d been thinking of getting them for a while, but that meeting pushed me to finally do it. I put some in my bag, and got back to work.

  I’d been at it a few hours, had some coffee and toast for breakfast, and was thinking about stopping and getting some exercise in, when my phone rang.

  I took a couple of deep breaths before even looking at the screen in case it was Grant. I was both disappointed and relieved when it wasn’t him. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Ms. Falcon?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Chris Hale, from Holliscorp.”

  “Yes, Chris. How are you?” Chris was the executive director of the art department. I’d met him during the initial meeting. Chris was the one who would have final say on my logo design, apart from Aten Hollis himself, I guess. He’d been warm and friendly, and the kind of guy I’d have flirted with like mad if I hadn’t been there on the pretense of being engaged to the person wanting to buy one of Hollis’ companies.

  “I’m good. I was wondering if you have any design concepts for me to see?”

  I must have hesitated a moment, because I was surprised to be asked about this so quickly.

  “N-Not that I’m rushing you or anything. If you don’t, that’s perfectly fine. I just thought if you did, maybe you wouldn’t mind coming in and letting me have a look.”

  “No, it’s not that, just caught me off-guard. I’ve been working on some concepts just this morning, actually. I . . . I could bring them in to show you. I suppose that would keep me from going down the wrong track.”

  “Good! Good,” he said. “Are you free for a lunch meeting? I was ordering in today to do some work, and I’d love to have company. We can look them over while we eat. Do you like Chinese? Italian? Burgers and fries?”

  I laughed. “All good, but burgers and fries are fine.”