by Marian Tee
I immediately reared up like a resurrected zombie. My mind told me to hurry and escape, but my body told me to slow down, sensing how near its favorite addiction was. As for my heart – it was my most useless organ ever. All it did was confuse me.
Constantijin’s weight pressed down on me, and my legs automatically spread open as if welcoming him back. Shit. What was happening to my body?
“Get off me,” I hissed even as my heartbeat continued racing, practically gunning for an Olympic record now that Constantijin’s cock pulsed heavily against my aching core.
I tried pushing him away, bracing my hands against his chest, but it was a weak effort and we both knew it.
He stared down at me, unsmiling, his eyes intense.
“Yanna,” he growled.
There was something in it that made me stop beating his chest with feathery-soft punches. God, I felt so weak even a newborn baby could knock me out with the kind of resistance I was putting up.
“You win.” And that was all he said before his lips took mine for a breathtaking, toe-curling, and sanity-crushing kiss.
Oh, I could have wept for that kiss.
Wait, I already was.
Tears fell from my closed eyes even as I kissed him back hungrily, my arms going around him.
“Don’t cry, schat,” he groaned, kissing my tears away.
The tears fell harder.
He licked them away. “Please, sweetheart, you’re tearing me apart.”
Burying my face in his neck, I sniffed, “I don’t understand what’s going on now.”
Constantijin suddenly flipped us, and I found myself lying on his chest in an instant. When I lifted my head to look at him in askance, he gave me a smile, albeit a grim one as he repeated, “You win, Yanna.”
I frowned. “I win---what?”
He took a lock of my hair, curling it around one finger, caressing its tips as if he was fascinated by its texture. Then he let it go and, caressing my cheek with his knuckles, he stared into my eyes and said, “I will court you.”
I stopped breathing.
The drawn look on his face told me he considered his words a huge concession on his part, and maybe – maybe it was. I had no idea what made him change his mind, but right now that wasn’t important. What mattered was that he had said yes.
“Did you hear what I said?” Constantijin actually shook me, impatient and looking more than a little uncertain about my reaction when I just kept staring at him blankly.
Clearing my throat, I summoned a smile, which rested shakily on my lips. “I’m just…overwhelmed.”
He smiled back, but it still didn’t reach his eyes. He cupped my face suddenly, pulling me down for a short hard kiss that got me breathing again – no, hyperventilating. When he released me, he said, “I will court you, but there are conditions.”
Lesson #3
If your billionaire lets you have the last word,
it is because he will have the last laugh.
“Uh…”
Constantijin Kastein had agreed to court me.
My mind repeated the words over and over. He seemed to have said something else after that, something about confusion or whatever, which I totally understood. This was utterly confusing for me, too.
Constantijin Kastein had agreed to court me.
Oh, the mind boggled. It was like some girl – a total nobody like me – had asked Ryan Gosling to court her (the nerve!) and he had agreed (the bitch!).
“Yanna?”
I looked up at him blankly.
Constantijin Kastein had agreed to court me.
He frowned.
Okay, that was not a look a man intent on courting me should have. Shaking my confusion away, I said, “W-what is it?”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“That you’re confused?”
Exasperation making his accent even thicker, he growled, “No. I said I had conditions.”
Oh.
It was my turn to frown, and I did so, severely. “What do you mean ‘conditions’?” He was the one courting me and yet – he was setting conditions, too? Did Dutch people have a different understanding of the word ‘courting’?
“No one should know I’m---” He paused then said, reluctantly and distastefully, “---that I’m courting you.”
My stomach twisted at his words. “Are you ashamed of me?”
His eyes widened and then he was kissing me again, his tongue boldly sweeping inside my mouth as his hands touched my back, trailing down to cup my buttocks and pushing it down on his cock.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, letting go momentarily of my lips but nothing else, “you anger me, confuse the hell out of me, but one thing I will never feel is ashamed of you.”
He shifted under me, and I swallowed back a whimper because his movement had his erection rubbing against my already-sensitive clit.
Constantijin pulled my head back to his chest. I couldn’t help wriggling closer, especially when he said, with a smile in his voice, “In fact, you are the only woman who is not blood-related that I am proud of.”
“Really?” I whispered.
“You love your work, I can see it every time I hear you make a presentation and talk to people about it.”
His praise made me want to cry. Blinking tears away because I knew he wouldn’t like it, I choked out, “Thanks.”
Constantijin tipped my chin up. “So no, I am not setting conditions because I am ashamed of you.” His voice gentled. “You will not think like that again, yes?”
Oh, these Europeans and their confusing sentence-enders. Smiling tremulously up at him, I said, “Yes.”
He pushed my head back down again. “Now, the conditions.”
I couldn’t help but tense.
“We will not tell anyone about it – not until it is the right time. Right now, you are unsure of me so there is no point for anyone to know. Office romances are discouraged – are forbidden, but even so I know they exist. However, I do not want to rock the boat unless I have a good reason to.”
“A good reason?” I echoed, a little confused about what that could be.
He didn’t answer.
Lifting my head up again, I gazed into his eyes, asking worriedly, “Constantijin?”
A grin – the secretive and wicked grin that I so loved – touched his lips as he said, “Like when you agree that I can fuck you anytime, anywhere, any way.”
Oh.
That kind of reason.
I was so wet after that.
And my Dutch playboy billionaire knew it. It was there in the blazing look of desire in his eyes, the way his nostrils flared, and the way his cock pulsed more strongly against my sex.
“Do you agree, Yanna?” he whispered.
Oh, God. He was using his seductive tone, and each word that fell from his lips was a seductive threat, intent on giving him complete control over my body.
“Yes.” I ended up gasping the word out when Constantijin reached down and pulled my skirt up, allowing his erection to rub even more closely against my womanhood. With my panties soaking wet, it was as if there was no fabric separating them, and I couldn’t help squirming.
I whimpered when Constantijin released me unexpectedly and my body fell back down, my sex practically impaled on his erection. I felt his hand snaking down as he gripped his cock, guiding it to my clit.
And then he started to rub.
“Constantijin!”
He smirked.
Oh God. If I could slap him like I usually did, I would have. But right now – all I could concentrate on was the way his cock kept teasing my clit.
“Listen carefully, Yanna, because I will only say it once.”
I glared at him, but even I knew it wasn’t my most potent glare, not when I also knew my eyes were pleading him simultaneously to rub harder, faster, and do just about anything that would give me the kind of orgasm I could only enjoy from his touch.
Perversely, Constantijin smiled in return. He starte
d to speak, but only half of my mind could focus on his words.
"Courting for me is another process to help us get to know each other better. But I'm a busy man. I'll do my best to devote as much time as I can to courting you, but you should be prepared to make some compromises as well.”
“Uhh…”
I felt Constantijin’s other hand descending again and I tensed, not knowing what to expect but knowing as well that whatever it was, it would feel---
Constantijin ripped my panties off.
It would feel out of this world.
“Constantijin!” I hissed, and then totally ruined it by moaning as his cock demanded entrance.
“Look at me, Yanna.”
I obeyed him, my eyes hazy with desire.
His tone unflinchingly hard, he said, “I am not promising love, Yanna. I want you to understand that perfectly.”
Oh, he was so freaking unfair. How could I think of what to say to that when he was teasing my sex with his cock, its head slipping in a fraction before withdrawing completely, giving me a tortuous taste of how it could be between the two of us.
“I had never fallen in love, and I warn you not to think that you can change my mind in the future about this. I won’t. But---”
I whimpered as Constantijin’s hand joined his cock, fingers teasing my clit while his cock slid up and down against my folds.
“I am extremely attracted to you. And for as long as what we have between us lasts, I am yours.”
His thumb pressed hard against my clit.
I gasped, my body arching, a brink away from an orgasm that I was sure would have me passing out from the sheer pleasure of it.
His eyes locked with mine, his gaze possessive and demanding as he asked in a rough undertone, “And you will be mine while I am courting you, yes? There will be no other suitors, yes?”
Passion clouded my mind, but even though only half of his words penetrated, I understood enough to force myself to shake my head. Oh no. He was not getting away with that rule. Exclusivity in courting had always been a man’s burden, and that wasn’t going to change between us.
“No,” I managed to say.
He was displeased. It was clearly reflected in his gaze.
“Are you sure you want to say ‘no’?” he taunted, moving his cock faster, drawing out another moan from me. “If you do not promise equal exclusivity, expect me to torture you like this all the time.”
I shook my head stubbornly even as I moved my hips, trying to trap his cock against my clit so I could come.
“Are you sure?” he breathed into my ear, making me shiver. And I shivered even more as his fingers traced random shapes on my hips, the ticklish and arousing movements making me catch my breath.
“No!” The word of protest slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, my body aching with need as Constantijin pulled away from me without warning, drawing us back onto our feet.
Speechless in my incredulity, I could only watch him as he expertly smoothed my skirt down until not a single crease was left.
I stared at him in horror. He was really going to end it just like that? More to the point, he wasn’t going to end it?
He gave me a tense smile, which I returned like a girl.
He said quietly, “Our courting has begun.”
But those words weren’t what I heard in my mind. Seeing the determination in his eyes, the still-tense expression on his face as he physically struggled to keep his arousal in check, I heard differently.
Queen, check. It was his very best move in our chess board of seduction.
I lifted my chin, hating how my body still trembled with unsatisfied need. “Yes,” I said just as softly, “It has.” And he better watch out because I could have his king checked, too.
Or even checkmated.
Lesson #4
Try not to let yourself be swept away
when your billionaire dances with you.
Remember that the dance will end with the last note of the song.
Courting has always been compared to a mating dance, but between Constantijin and me, it was more like a war dance, one battle of the sexes after another. Constantijin’s resistance could be due to his inability to relinquish control. He was the type to like having total control of anything he wanted badly, and for some reason I was the one he wanted badly.
Yet I fought with him, provoked him, and challenged him because if I gave in before I should, it would mean giving up to him.
It was like what Glenda said the other day. With Constantijin out for a meeting, Glenda had invited me to join her for a cup of coffee.
“You without your top and Constantijin was nothing,” Glenda assured me when I gave her another mumbled apology for the worst boob show in history.
Her words made me blush. Even after being exposed to Constantijin’s intensely passionate nature, I still couldn’t make myself get used to how easy it was for people to talk about sex.
“I have seen women giving him blow jobs, lap dances on the table, masturbating---”
“I get the picture,” I said hastily, not wanting to hear another word. The mere thought of all the women who had spent more than a second in his arms made me tear up inside. I hated it. I really, really hated it. Oh, Constantijin – why couldn’t you be, like, the Netherlands’ #1 pastor instead of a playboy?
“But you know what the difference is between you and all those other women?”
“Smaller boobs?” I quipped.
She shook her head, her unsmiling expression eerily reminding me of Constantijin’s own serious face. Eek. Like boss, like secretary?
“They stayed to finish what they started. You ran.”
Oh.
“Constantijin was very shocked at that. He didn’t know what to make of it. All of them had stuck around. They hadn’t minded that I had seen them because there was something they needed more from Constantijin – something they didn’t mind losing their self-respect for.”
I thought about her words hard. “Glenda,” I said finally, “Are you telling me not to have sex with him?”
She shrugged.
“Glenda!”
“All I’m saying is that you’re different, and it was what drew him to you.”
If there was anything I hated in life, it would be this: cryptic advice, an oxymoron of the very worst kind. Why give advice that had to be solved like a freaking puzzle?
“You’re not helping,” I sighed.
“I am. But you’re just too horny for my boss to understand what I’m saying.”
That had me blushing and laughing at the same time. “Glenda!”
She patted my hand, a rare smile of such warmth touching her lips. “I’m rooting for you, dear.”
That was great, actually, especially since Constantijin’s brand of courting was nothing like I had ever imagined. It was beautiful, maddening, and oh so arousing.
Day 1 of Courting
A gigantic bouquet waited for me at my table, tall enough for its topmost flowers to surpass the height of my cubicle walls. George squealed as I hurried towards it, ignoring Arian’s envious mutters.
I opened the card.
Thinking of you every day ---
Dreaming of you every night ---
I can’t wait to fuck you endlessly hard when you become mine.
Oh, dear Lord. How was it that he could be so romantic and utterly crude at the same time? And why were my panties slowly getting wet? I took the card and hugged it to my heart, knowing that I was going to read it over and over tonight until I fell asleep.
Day 5 of Courting
Constantijin flew me out of state in his private jet. He wanted the two of us to enjoy a private dinner, far away from the prying eyes hounding us more and more at work. Arian was the most suspicious. It took all my acting skills not to give myself away every time I caught her trying to flirt with Constantijin.
To give him credit, he wasn’t doing anything to encourage her but – couldn’t he be ruder?
&nb
sp; The flight was already ten minutes into its journey and I was still stiff in my seat, the proximity of Constantijin driving me crazy. I so badly wanted to kiss him but I knew I wouldn’t – couldn’t. If I did, he would think I was succumbing to his demands.
But I needed this courtship – I needed to feel secure that he really wanted me – just me. I didn’t think I’d survive if I ever found out he wanted me the same time he wanted other women, too.
“Yanna.” Constantijin purred out my name, creating goosebumps all over my body.
I reluctantly faced him.
He smirked, the sly look in his silvery eyes telling me he knew how much my body ached for him.
I slapped his face instinctively.
“Yanna.”
The ominously soft whisper had me facing the other way, knowing I was in big, big trouble. Would he forgive me if I said oops now?
“Yanna!” This time it was a furious growl.
Cringing, I turned to face him again. The terrifying scowl on his face had me protesting, “But you were smirking!”
“Then tell me to stop,” he gritted out, rubbing his cheek, which still had my hand’s imprint on it. It made me gulp. Oh dear, he was so going to kill me when he saw it.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“You should be,” he retorted. “You have slapped me more times than anyone else in my entire life.”
My shoulders drooped. “Sorry again.”
He tipped my chin up and I trembled, his touch rekindling the desire inside me. When our gazes met, I saw that he was smirking again. The jerk!
This time, he caught my hand before I could slap him again. And then he was kissing me, his tongue sweeping in and exploring my mouth. All I could do was kiss him back wildly, panting for more. My body strained towards him, wishing there wasn’t a barrier separating our seats.
Constantijin forced me back to the windows, still imprisoning both my hands behind my back. I whimpered when he sucked on my tongue. I whimpered again when he let go of my lips but only so he could nibble on my collarbone.
“Constantijin,” I sobbed.
He released me.
I blinked rapidly in shock.
