Billionaire Season 2

by Kimball Lee

  “Baby take off your coat, real slow. Now take off your shoes, I’ll take off your shoes. Baby take off your dress, yes yes yes. You can leave your hat on, you can leave your hat on, you can leave your hat on. Go over there turn on the lights, yeah all the lights. Come over here, stand on that chair, yeah that’s right. Raise your arms up in the air, now shake ‘em. You give me reason to live, you give me reason to live, you give me reason to live. You give me reason to live sweet darling. You can leave your hat on baby. Suspicious minds are talkin’, they’re tryin’ to tear us apart. They don’t know what love is, they don’t know what love is, they don’t know what love is. I know what love is.”

  He screeched to a stop and left the Maserati parked halfway on the curb in front of The Cathedral. Abigail stood in the open doorway and the luxurious curves of her small body were beautifully outlined in an intricate red leather corset. A veil of soft waves of caramel-colored hair cascaded far past her shoulders and her smooth mocha skin glowed as the last rays of sunlight fell at her feet. Walden felt his blood heat to a raging boil as he leaned down to kiss her lush lips. Her desire for him was clearly written in the shocking color of her crystalline-blue eyes. Abigail was there for him, always there for him, unquestioning and unwavering in her need and lust and steadfast love for him.

  “Get your mask, Abby,” he said, his voice was thick and low as he swept past her and bounded up the stairs to his bedroom.

  A shudder ran through her at the course sound of his words. He was in a mood and she loved his delicious bad moods almost as much as she loved the man himself. She unlocked the iron gate where the silver boxes were kept and retrieved her feathered carnival mask and then she slipped into the old brass elevator that would take her to the top floor. He didn’t love her as much as she loved him, he wasn’t in love with her. Abigail was well aware that Walden Warfield wasn’t capable of that sort of love, the damage to his soul was too deep and too raw.

  William called and told her that Alaina Darling had been in The Cathedral earlier that day so she knew from the anguish in William’s voice that Walden was infatuated with the girl. She wasn’t convinced that his infatuation would last or that he would stay interested long enough for anything to come of it, but it did mean that the sex would be rough tonight. Walden would punish her for not being the right woman or he would want to be punished for his imagined sins. Ah, Walden. In truth he was the kindest and most decent man Abigail had ever known, but his fractured past colored his world with a need for absolute control and pleasure with the sharp lash of pain.

  Walden’s big body nearly filled the glass-tiled shower in his bathroom and Abigail drew in her breath sharply as she watched the steaming water wash over his bronzed skin. He was simply exquisite. From the chiseled symmetry of his high cheekbones, aquiline nose, strong square jaw and full wide mouth to the sheer masculinity of his broad shoulders, hard ripped abs, narrow waist and strong thighs. He was splendid indeed, but the most sublime part of Walden’s body was his cock. She might be able to break free of his tainted love if not for that oh so miraculous part of him.

  He had been her very first lover and that fact had made him furious when he’d realized it. He’d sprung away from her and yelled at her to leave and come back when she was no longer a virgin. But she’d stood her ground and refused to go and it took all the strength and feminine wiles she possessed to make him fuck her that first time. He’d kept her with him and they’d stayed in his room for more than a week after he gave in and tied her to the big iron bed. That’s how she first experienced the act of love making— with her wrists and ankles spread wide and lashed tightly to Walden’s heavy iron bed. Her tears had flowed freely at the brutal size of his cock stretching and battering her newly awakened sex but she’d loved it so, and no other man had satisfied her since. He’d kissed her tears away and told her over and over not to look at him with such pain and love as he fucked her over and over while she begged him never to stop.

  “I need a shave, Abby, get the razor and make sure it’s sharp,” he said rubbing the tips of his long fingers across the shadowy stubble on his chin.

  Abigail felt the hot stab of desire and lust and unquenchable heat as his blazing eyes narrowed and his tone left no room for an argument.

  “Ah, chere, you know I hate to do that. The razor, it’s not safe,” she said, even as she lifted the deathly sharp silver straight razor from its leather case.

  He sat on a carved Italian bench in front of an antique Venetian mirror that reached from floor to ceiling and she knelt in front of him. She ran her fingers over the fresh wounds and ancient scars on his wide chest, the beautifully contoured muscles tensed under her touch and he pushed her hand away and nodded to the razor she held. She kissed his lips, her little pink tongue darting into his mouth and twisting and twining with his until he urged her to stand and get on with it. She bent her head quickly and flicked her tongue over the top of his cock tasting the droplets of fluid he couldn’t hold back before she stood and gathered hot damp towels to wrap his face.

  Walden leaned his head back exposing his thick neck, the blue carotid artery pumping to the rhythm of his heart. Abigail wanted nothing more than to press her lips to the fine linen skin and feel the searing fire of his life’s blood, but he would never allow her that small intimacy. His eyes drifted closed as he waited for the touch of the cold smooth steel and he knew that Abby would still her quaking nerves and shaking hand as she refused to spill a drop of his blood.

  Abigail lathered his chin and neck and steadily drew the finely honed blade over the tender skin of this man whom she loved with an intensity that filled her eyes and her heart with tears of longing. Oh if he only loved her, she would give anything to share his life even though it meant forfeiting the chance for normality. Loving Walden meant sharing him with other women, he couldn’t help it and of course he didn’t love any of them, it was simply part of who he was. And they would never have babies or a house with a white picket fence, but that didn’t matter.

  Walden was compulsive in his use of condoms, not that it was a bad thing, but heaven forbid that he touch a woman without having protection on that huge divine cock of his. He was horrified by the thought of unintentionally bringing a child into what he considered a highly fucked up world. When he was alone with Abigail and he opened up and shared his thoughts he always spoke of his desire to have a vasectomy. That was the best course of action, he said, it would put an end to his fears of procreating once and for all.

  He had even told William and his father about his intent to have himself “sterilized,” as he referred to the operation. But William advised him to wait, what if he met the girl of his dreams someday? He just might change his mind then and want a family. Their father had been beyond furious with Walden for even considering such a rash action. It was necessary for the Warfield bloodline to continue on into the future and he’d be damned if he’d give his youngest his blessing to have himself mutilated. Walden needed to stop thinking and behaving in such an irrational manner, it was tiring and irritating, William the third proclaimed. Grandchildren were a non-negotiable asset, and he damn well expected his sons to produce them whether they wanted to or not.

  FUCK! He thought. They both tried to run his life, his father and Wills were always trying to fix what they considered his “fucked-up-ness”, convinced they could make him whole again. They were so sure that Walden just needed to grow up, to pull himself together, to put on a suit and tie and he would be A-OKAY! But what the fuck did they know? Had they been where he’d been, felt what he’d felt, survived his far from perfect childhood? Nope, not even Wills, he hadn’t suffered the brunt of abuse that Walden had known. Stella was their mother and they’d both suffered her staggeringly cruel rages, but only Walden had endured the years of abuse when she had come to his bedroom in the night and hugged him too close and whispered poisonous words in his ear.

  “Sweet, sweet Abby,” he said when she’d finished with the razor and dropped it in the sink as if i
t scalded her hand. “Should I shave your sweet pussy, Abigail? You would let me, wouldn’t you?” He smoothed her wildly curling hair away from her lovely heart-shaped face, her huge doe-like eyes wide with love and yearning and the ever-present touch of terror.

  “Yes, I would let you, chere, but you paid a lot of money to that fancy salon so the laser can keep it smooth as a girl scout. Why did you do that if you wanted to hold the razor to my skin?” She asked and he swept her slight frame up in his arms and carried her into the middle of his bedroom.

  He smiled down at her as he reached toward a mahogany chest and picked up her feathered mask. “Put your mask on, baby. I wouldn’t hurt you, not that way, never Abby, never. I’ll only bring you a bit of pain with my body and only if you beg me to. You look lovely in your mask, angel. Now raise your arms for me, raise them high, that’s right, good girl,” he said as tears rolled down her cheeks and he secured her wrists with a silk cord that hung from an iron hook bolted to the bedroom ceiling. Angel, don’t cry, I love you more than I love my own life.” He knotted the rope tight jerking her wrists high above her head so she was forced to stand on tiptoe and then he kissed her. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks and her tightly closed eyes, licking the tears away and whispering in his deep smooth voice.

  She raised her face to receive his kisses, her lips ached for his touch and at last he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her with a fiery intensity as his fingers tore at the satin laces that cinched the leather corset she wore. The corset fell to the floor and his hands kneaded her full breasts, his thumbs scratching over the hard pink nipples as she moaned and strained toward his touch. His mouth descended first to one stiffened peak and then the other, his teeth slightly grazing the tips before his tongue pulled steadily on each nipple and she cried his name and begged for release. His hand slid down her taut belly and cupped the burning mound of her sex, his fingers expertly circling her clit and fingering the soft folds that were drenched with excitement.

  “Walden, ahhhh, chere!” she moaned loudly as he slipped a long finger inside her and felt her tight little pussy begin to spasm and clutch.

  He stepped back from her suddenly, leaving her perched on the tips of her toes, her arms suspended and her wrists trussed tightly by the silken rope.

  “Tell me you hate me,” he said in voice so low and lost that her skin prickled with goose bumps. “Say you hate every despicable thing about me, Abby. I want to hear it from your lips, say I don’t matter to you, that you can’t possibly love me, that no one can. You only want my cock, make me believe it’s the only reason you come back to me again and again.”

  She’d begun to cry in earnest, her tears pouring down her face as he watched her struggling to free herself.

  “I love you, Walden, I love you, I love you. You can’t make me stop,” she cried and stared into his beautiful gold-flecked eyes.

  His eyes always glittered more green than brown when he was aroused and they practically glowed as he shook his head and moved toward her.

  “I love you, too,” he said reaching for a condom packet, opening it, sliding it on in one swift motion. He lifted her ass in his big hands, lifted her up and held her with his massive erection poised at the hot wet opening of her sex. “I love you Alaina and I need you to love me.”

  She gasped at the sound of the girl’s name on his lips but still she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him closer and closer. She reveled in the sweet ache and the stretching, overly full sensation as his cock thrust into her. He held her hips steady as he drove into her, leaning down to kiss her, tasting the salty tang of her tears. He closed his eyes so he no longer saw her feathered mask or her beautiful dark curls. She was a blonde haired girl with haunting grey-green eyes who loved only him, a girl whose heart would never betray him.

  “Stay with me tonight, please chere, let me sleep here in your bed,” Abigail pleaded with Walden. She was exhausted from so many orgasms that she’d lost count.

  He smoothed his fingertips over the tender swollen lips of her pussy and she flinched in pain. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said and he meant it. She loved for him to fuck her but it was always the same, his size caused her pain and they always went too far for too long. He helped her slide beneath the duvet in his big bed and he settled her head on the feather pillows and kissed her tenderly. “Sleep now, go to sleep and dream.”

  Walden left her sleeping there as he climbed the spiral staircase to the roof. The hot summer night had just begun to lose its power to the yellow sun rising over the shores of the Mississippi. He stood naked and alone on the brick ledge of the rooftop searching the city below for a glimpse of the girl he loved.

  “What the fuck nut-sack? You gonna piss off that roof or jump off of it? Fuckin’ asshole!” A bum staggering on the street below shouted up at him.

  “Go fuck yourself!” Walden laughed and went inside the glass conservatory. “God almighty, I love this town,” Walden whispered, as he lay on his back in the soft nest of a bed he had created from a futon and throw pillows and he closed his eyes and slept.

  Chapter Three

  “Get in the car, Alaina,” William said brusquely as they left the hospital and he held the door of his father’s limo open for Allie. He had stayed at his father’s bedside until the doctor assured him that all the tests were good and William the third could go home to Greenlea in the morning. He climbed in next to Allie and hit the button to raise the screen between the front and back seats so the driver couldn’t see or hear them. “Why the hell did you go to Walden’s club… his house… why the fuck did you go with him today? That was not a well thought out move, Alaina, no one knew where you were. Anything could have happened to you,” William said.

  He was fuming mad, the burden of worry about his father had been lifted, at least for the time being, and he was more than ready to wash his hands of Walden and all his manic bullshit. But all through the long day his thoughts had returned again and again to the sight of his brother’s hands and lips on Allie and it was enough to push his bad mood to the brink.

  “Anything? Like he could have killed me and buried my body in his backyard? Or anything, like maybe he could have raped me? What could have happened William? He’s your brother and I don’t think he’s half as messed up as you imagine. It seems to me the only person he would ever hurt is himself,” Allie said. She wanted to be pissed off at him for acting all He-man overprotective but she knew he’d had a terrible day, and besides, just sitting so close to him in the confines of the limo made her desire for him sky-rocket. Whatever little blip she had felt earlier with Walden was most certainly due to his distinct likeness to William.

  “William, I’m sorry… I didn’t think about there being any sort of danger, I guess. He’s so much like you….”

  “Well he’s not me, do you understand that? Answer me, Alaina. Do you understand that he and I are nothing alike? He is not me and I’m nothing like him!”

  He spat the words out so violently that Allie’s heart ached for him suddenly. Here he was, the quintessential perfect man— tall and muscled, brilliant and gorgeous and hot and rich beyond all imagining, and still he carried the burden of his family’s past tragedies. He wore the memories of his brother’s childhood screams and lifelong pain like a war wound that never quite healed.

  “No, he’s not. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world like you, William,” Allie said and she scooted across the leather seat and curled up in his lap even though he halfheartedly tried to stop her. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about me where any other man is concerned, I’m ruined for anyone but you. I don’t know why this has happened so fast between us, William, and I know you think I’m young and ignorant in the ways of the world. I don’t have that much experience when it comes to what goes on between a man and a woman. I only know how I feel when I’m with you and I didn’t mean to put myself or us at risk.”

  He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and exhaled deeply while his hands caressed her back sli
ding down to rest lightly on her narrow hips. She snuggled against the strong safe wall of his chest and sighed contentedly at how fragile he was despite all his strong words and bulging muscles and endless supply of power and influence and money. He was a boy in a man’s body, as fragile as he was powerful and that sealed it for her, she was in love with him and only him, and nothing could change that.

  She’d meant to ask him about his involvement in Walden’s private club, what did he do when he was there? What manner of depravity did he indulge in and would he continue to frequent the club, pleasing an assortment of women with his marvelously skilled fingers and mouth and cock? She felt a violent jolt of jealousy at the thought and it was new and startling and potently erotic.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear and then his neck as she unknotted his tie and the top buttons of his perfectly tailored shirt. “Please William, right now, I need you so much.”

  “Don’t test me right now, Alaina, we’re nearly to the townhouse and I’m not in a good frame of mind. I assure you that sex is the last thing I’m interested in,” he grumbled refusing to look her in the eye since his growing erection was definitely providing evidence to the contrary.

  “Oh, is that right, William Warfield? Well you’d better tell that to your body because it feels to me like it’s totally up for a little vehicular sex.” Allie sat up on his lap but turned away from him and pushed the button to partially lower the screen as she spoke to the limo driver. “Sir, um, driver? Would you mind taking us on a tour of the city? Just drive around for forty-five minutes or an hour, thank you very much.”