His Gift (A Dark Billionaire Romance Part 1)

by Dark, Aubrey

  Right. A two thousand dollar mistake.

  “You need to pick this up,” Jake said. His voice was even and low.

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” A bright flush swept over the top part of my cheeks. My eyes watered with the heat.

  “Don’t be ashamed. Apologize and find pleasure in picking it up.”

  “Pleasure?” I stared down at the flattened cake. It had broken open in the top layer, and I saw that it was red velvet cake under the gold icing.

  “First apologize.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Then pick it up.”

  I bent down and gingerly picked up the sides of the cake box. Some of the icing had spattered onto the carpet, but the cake was mostly still contained. I supported the bottom with one hand and stood up.

  “Is there a trash can somewhere?” I asked. “Or… I mean…”

  “Put it on that side table.”

  I obeyed his instruction. All the while, his words whirled in my mind: I will make you come. His breath was a rasp that sent a tremor through me. I could hear my heartbeat behind his words. My pulse was racing.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I looked up. On the wall above the side table, there was a mirror. I could see Jake’s reflection in it. He was staring at the back of my head intently.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  “What was it?”

  I blushed. I wasn’t going to tell him. No way.

  “Were you thinking about me?”

  “You’re arrogant, aren’t you?”

  He whipped me around so fast that I tripped over my own feet. I stumbled and he caught me, pinning me back against the mirror. My hip was pressed against the side table. I couldn’t move.

  “Me?”

  He shot a glance down at the broken cake.

  “This cake, who paid for it? Was it you?”

  “N—no.”

  “Who paid for this party? All of it?”

  “You did.”

  “I want to enjoy tonight. I want to enjoy everything that has been given to me, because I have paid for every last ounce of pleasure,” he said, his voice throttled down. The words resonated down through his chest.

  “I have paid dearly for this. And I will take what I want, when I want.”

  His arm reached around my back and pulled me up against his body. I cried out as he squeezed my hips. His fingers gripped my ass.

  “You are a gift that I paid for,” he said. “You are a treasure. I want to treasure you.”

  As he spoke, his hands pulled me even closer. They clasped my hips and caressed my shoulders. They tugged my thigh against him, and Lord, oh Lordy, he was hard. I melted inside as he rubbed slowly, sensuously, against the front of my body.

  He was so tall that his lips brushed my hairline. Oh God, I hope I remembered to shampoo last night.

  How crazy was I? If I had thought about it, I should have screamed my head off. I should have shoved him away. But desire burned through me so hot and bright that I ignored my rational side. Damn the consequences. I had been pure for my whole life, and now I needed this… this dark, sinful thing. I wanted his desire.

  His lips brushed my skin only lightly at my forehead. His fingers, though, brushed over my mouth and pinched the line of my chin.

  “Lacey, you sweet delicious thing.”

  He reached out to the broken cake. He swept one finger through the gold icing and brought it up to my face.

  “Suck it off.”

  My eyes flickered back and forth from his iced finger to his stern face.

  “Lacey, you’re being needlessly slow about following my orders.”

  “It’s just… I’m just not sure about this. I mean—”

  “Not sure?”

  His eyes narrowed. His eyebrows slanted dark, twin bolts of black down his face.

  “I don’t know—”

  He shoved me back hard against the wall. My breath went out with one solid whoosh. I gasped.

  “Don’t know?”

  Jake put his finger to my lips, smearing icing onto my mouth.

  “Take it. Suck it.”

  I opened my mouth and he thrust his fingers inside, hard. My hands clutched at his wrists. My mouth was full, the icing dripping down my throat.

  At the same time, his other hand came down and slid under my dress. I screamed from behind his hand, but his fingers turned my scream into a moan. I clenched my thighs together, but his hand was too strong.

  “Suck it. Lick it,” he whispered. His mouth was against my ear, and his whole body pinned mine against the wall. I couldn’t reach him with my arms held back, and his one hand was working its way between my thighs.

  Tears watered my eyes. I moaned as he hooked one finger up around my panties, brushing me down there.

  “You’re hot already, aren’t you, Lacey? Good girl. Already so nice and wet.”

  “Mmm!” I cried out, shaking my head. “Mmm!”

  “God, you’re the best gift. Almost perfect. A bit too hesitant at times. But I’ll train that out of you.”

  “Mmm—oh!”

  My cry came as he slid his hand deeper. He curled his fingers, and God, oh God, he was inside me. His palm pressed against my clit, hot and wet.

  I froze.

  Nothing had prepared me for this. I’d read books, I’d watched porn. And I’d touched myself a few times, after my friends convinced me that my parents were being way old fashioned by calling it a sin. But nothing I had done or seen had prepared me for the quiet flicker of pleasure that danced through my body just then.

  “Ah!”

  I cried out as he shifted his weight. His palm moved slowly, oh so slowly over my clit. It was barely motion. But every agonizing second sent another streak of desire across my nerves.

  “Ahh!”

  His fingers moved in my mouth, sliding out. Instinct took me over, and I sucked. I sucked his fingers hard, the sweet icing melting on my tongue. He pushed his fingers back in, choking me, and I coughed, sucking harder, sucking more.

  His palm eased up against me, leaving me aching for more. I arched my back to try and press against him, but he shoved my leg back with his.

  “Lacey, you’re not in charge here.”

  His words came hot against my skin, and I moaned with his fingers in my mouth.

  His palm pressed against me again. Oh Lord! Oh heaven! The lights in the gallery seemed to flicker as my eyelashes fluttered. He moved his hand and the friction tore through me like thunder.

  “If I want you to come, you will come. Understood?”

  I no longer possessed my senses to be able to respond. Instead I moaned and leaned my head back against the wall. I closed my eyes, but his fingers made bright sparks fly across my vision in the darkness.

  “Understood? You are mine. You will do what I say. Yes?”

  “Yes!”

  Every part of me was trembling with desire, like a live wire pressed against my nerves.

  And his voice, God, his voice in my ear, telling me what I should do.

  “Bend your knees slightly.”

  I did, and his fingers curled up into me, holding me up. Oh, the pressure! The sweet, terrible pressure! I longed to let myself go completely, to let him hold me against the wall and do whatever he would, no matter what happened.

  “Now rock forward slightly. Yes, that’s it. Back and forth.”

  I gasped as he curled his fingers tight, thrusting them into me at a shallow angle. My body clenched around his hand, and I could feel myself rocking onto his palm.

  He pressed me harder with it. I could feel his upper lip, slightly sweaty, at my temple. His body smelled like molten iron, a sharp edge to the scent that drove me wild. Primal. I had nothing left to think with. I was only my body, and my body was being played expertly by his strong experienced fingers.

  “Mmmmm!”

  His hand was curling back and forth, rocking into me just enough to send bolts of desire through my
limbs. Them he pulled back, leaving me breathless and wanting.

  “MMM!”

  He thrust his fingers into my lips and I sucked at them greedily. I tasted the sweetness of the sugar icing and the saltiness of his skin. Heat radiated from his body and I swam in his warm scent. This was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

  “That’s it. Good girl. Every last bit. All the way.”

  I rocked my body against his hand, and he responded with the same rhythm that sent me moaning. I’d never been hotter or wetter, not even when I had dreams that made me wake in sweat-covered sheets.

  “Lacey, come for me,” he whispered. And, oh, my dear Lord, he sounded like he was on the same edge as I was, about to jump off.

  “AHHH!”

  I couldn’t see his eyes when he pressed against me. Mine were clenched shut too tight. But when he curled his fingers tight I screamed and screamed and could not stop.

  It was an orgasm, that I knew. But it bore no resemblance to any of the weak trembles of satisfaction I’d given myself. This orgasm made me shiver down to the bone, turning my muscles liquid.

  “Oh, God. OhGodOhGodOhGod.”

  I slumped back against the wall. His fingers slid from my mouth, and I rasped at the air. The room seemed to have heated up twenty degrees.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw the painting first.

  KAGE. The green and gold swam in front of me, and then my eyes refocused onto his face. His eyes. He licked his fingers. The fingers that had been inside me. He smiled.

  Who was I? Not the girl who walked in the door. That girl wouldn’t have done anything so reckless. That girl wouldn’t take orders from anyone.

  But now, panting and sweaty, I waited for him to speak. Waited for him to tell me what happened next. He straightened up in front of me. He gave me one more look, from my bare feet to the top of my head. I ran my hand through my hair shakily, sure that it had gotten completely messed up.

  “Perfect,” he murmured. “Just perfect. You’ll do quite well.”

  I pulled the hem down on my dress, adjusting it as far down as I could. He held out the shawl to me and I took it from him, my eyes dropping down. I turned to go, but his hand stopped me.

  “Wait,” he said.

  “You said I could go.”

  “Don’t you want your tip?”

  I stared as he pulled a wallet from his pocket. It was black, sleek leather. Like a seal’s skin. He riffled through a few hundred dollar bills and pulled them out. I gaped down at the bills. It was five of them. Five hundred dollars.

  “A… a tip?”

  “Yes. Thank you for delivering the cake. I enjoyed it immensely.”

  I choked back the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to take the money. Well, I mean, I did, but it didn’t feel right. I’d fucked up a cake and let him finger me—was that how this worked? There was another feeling inside of me, a feeling that made this seem wrong. For some stupid reason, I didn’t want this to be the end of tonight.

  I wanted more than money. I didn’t want to be a whore.

  At least he didn’t take your virginity, Lacey. Take the money and go.

  I reached out and took the money quickly. I didn’t have any pockets, so I crumpled the bills into my sweaty palm. I didn’t look at the money. I didn’t look at the Kage painting. I didn’t deserve to look at them.

  “When will you be back tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  I stared at him.

  “Yes. Tomorrow. Lucas told me that I had you for the whole week.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Tomorrow?” I repeated dumbly. “Who’s Lucas?”

  “Cute. The innocence thing, very cute. I wish I could keep you here longer tonight,” Jake said, pacing back and forth in front of the art gallery. He looked like his thoughts were already somewhere else. “But unfortunately, I have some business that needs taking care of.”

  “I can’t come tomorrow,” I stuttered. I felt like I was making a mistake, but I couldn’t just stroll back into his penthouse. There seemed to be some kind of mixup. Lucas, whoever he was, hadn’t told me anything and he hadn’t told Steph anything. I had zero idea what was going on.

  His eye twitched at the corner, and for a brief moment I saw him look at me with a flicker of anger. It terrified me. His gaze was so intense that I wanted to blurt out that I would come tomorrow even though I couldn’t, I really couldn’t.

  “Lucas said you were a gift for the whole week. I’d like you here by eight in the morning sharp. You’ll make my breakfast and—”

  “Hold on.”

  I raised one of my hands in the air, still clutching the bills in the other hand.

  “Hold on one second.” Now I was getting my breath back, and my senses back. I could tell that there was something I was missing.

  “What is it?” he snapped in irritation. “Don’t tell me you didn’t expect this. Lucas said—”

  “I don’t know who Lucas is,” I interrupted.

  “Of course you do. He’s the one who sent you.”

  “I’m a friend of the baker’s,” I said carefully, being deliberate and calm with my words. “She told me to deliver—”

  “Stop playing games,” he said.

  “I’m not!” Now adrenaline was pumping through my system. I wasn’t about to let him yell at me for what was obviously a mix-up on someone else’s part. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, asking me to come back tomor—”

  “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

  “Telling?”

  “It’s an order. Do you understand that?”

  “I don’t take orders from strange men.”

  “You will come tomorrow morning. You will not be late—"

  “I won’t be here at all tomorrow unless you tell me what the hell is going on,” I said, crossing my arms. His irritation made every muscle of mine tense. He stood like a coiled snake, motionless, waiting to strike.

  “Listen,” he said, striding over in front of me. He pointed a finger in my face. “You’re my gift, and I’ll do with you as I like.”

  “I’m not a gift!”

  That made him stop. His mouth opened, and then closed again. He seemed to be thinking. When he spoke again, his voice was slower. Calmer.

  “What do you mean, you’re not a gift?” he asked.

  “Exactly that. I don’t know who Lucas is, or what you’re talking about, I was just here to bring up the cake—”

  A knock on the door took both of our attention. I said “Come in!” at the same time as Jake said “Stay out!”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Carville?”

  The tuxedoed man stood in the doorway. It was the same one who had taken the girls once we’d gotten off of the elevator.

  “This isn’t the time, Stephen—”

  “Your present from Mr. Black is here.”

  From the look on Jake’s face and the deathly whiteness of his skin, Mr. Black was the man named Lucas. And things were about to get interesting.

  ***

  “See?” I said. “Now do you believe me?”

  Jake shot a scornful glare at me.

  “Come in, Sophia,” the tuxedoed man said. He tugged at a leash and through the door came my arch-nemesis from the elevator, the supermodel Blondie. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise when she saw me, then narrowed in anger.

  “A gift for you, Mr. Carville. From Mr. Black. He sends his well wishes.”

  Blondie wasn’t looking at me at all anymore. She’d turned her head away from me the instant she’d recognized me. Instead, she bent down on her knees on the carpet and laid her hands palm-down in front of her

  “I’m here to serve you, master,” she said.

  I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. It was just so… melodramatic. So cinematically hilarious. Snortfuls of laughter came from behind my hand as I clapped it over my mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, as the tuxedoed man stared agape at me. “Really. I’m sorry.”

  Jake s
tepped toward the girl, and took the leash from the waiter.

  Seriously? What was he going to do? For a split second, I actually felt jealous of her. Remembering the way he’d touched me made my skin grow hot.

  He tugged at the leash and she stood up. She was perfectly balanced on her high stiletto heels. Despite my jealousy, part of me wanted to ask her for lessons on how to stand in those things.

  “You’re my gift?” Jake asked. He scrutinized her, walking around to her side and examining her profile.

  “I will do whatever you want, master.”

  My heart was beginning to drop in my chest. Now he would kick me out. Now he would ask for his money back and throw me out on the curb like the street trash I was.

  But instead, his eyes flickered up and down the blonde beauty. I took her in as I stood alongside him, seeing her with his eyes. The eyes of a man with desire pumping through his veins.

  The perfect legs, smoothly shaved with no nicks. The perfect dress, hanging off of her hipbones. The perfect hair, not a flyaway in sight. She was beautiful, so perfect that it made me shrink back, ashamed to be a woman standing near her. The comparison would have been awful.

  Then Jake reached out and unclasped her collar. He tossed it onto the floor.

  “Master?” She looked confused. I noticed a crease at the corners of her perfectly mascaraed eyes.

  “Get her out of here.”

  “Mr. Carville?” The tuxedoed man looked just as confused as I felt.

  “Tell Lucas thank you, but her services won’t be needed. I’ve found someone else.”

  “What? Her? Why?” the blonde supermodel interrupted.

  He turned to her with a sharp fierceness in his eyes that stopped her cold. When he spoke, each word came with a punctuated stop.

  “Because I... don’t... want… you.”

  It’s stupid, but my heart swelled with pride. He rejected her, the blond bimbo. He didn’t want her. he wanted...

  Oh God, he wanted me.

  The tuxedoed man picked up the collar hurriedly and took the blonde girl by the arm. He flashed me a dirty look, like I’d fucked up his whole life. I smiled.

  She walked out the door with as much dignity as she could. I gave her credit for that, at least. She was willing to bend to her knees and call someone Master, but at least she walked out tall in her high heels.