My hips jut forward again, desperate for more of her mouth, before my head can catch up. The head with a brain in it anyway. But it’s too late. She’s smiling a Cheshire’s cat grin.
She pulls back altogether and moves back from me, still on her knees. “I want to show Master how well I’ve learned my lessons.”
And then she crawls. She crawls in a circle on the rug, swaying her ass, her beautiful breasts bouncing as she puts herself on display for me. She’s playing with me, teasing me. But when she finishes her circle and comes crawling back towards me, slinking like a lioness intent on her prey, fuck me but my cock goes harder than the hardest stone. My cock goes hard as a diamond.
My legs sag open wider at her approach. She gives an extra sway to her ass, sending her breasts jiggling as she reaches me and goes up on her knees, running her hands up from my knees to my upper thighs.
“I want to please my Master. I want to suck your cock and taste your cum down my throat.”
My jaw hardens. My entire body flexes towards her. “Then please me.”
And finally, finally, she grabs the base of my cock in one hand and then sinks her mouth on me again. I barely hold back my groan of relief.
But she’s not holding back. Not anymore. She moans around me, the vibrations of her throat suctioned around my cock unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’ve fucking died. That’s all I can think. I’ve fucking died and this is heaven, the woman I’ve always—
I cut the thought short. No more fucking thinking. Just take it for what it fucking is. Great head. I’ve got a slave who’s great at giving head. Enjoy it. I’ll sleep good tonight. That’s all this is.
But then she reaches down, and the hand not at the base of my cock starts playing with my balls. My stomach heaves, I’m breathing so hard. She’s driving me so fucking crazy.
I keep glancing down even though I tell myself not to. But the image of her on her knees is mesmerizing, her black hair cascading around her as she works and worships my cock so diligently.
I should hold out longer. Make her really work for it.
But then she looks up at me again. And she’s still the sassy siren of a few minutes earlier who crawled towards me so confidently. But I also see a vulnerability there. Like she’s wondering if she’s doing it right. She looks like...she looks like Daphne.
She is the goddess who first woke me up to her womanhood when I saw her at the Ubeli’s ball after her 18th birthday, who walked towards me on the beach on a day that is seared into my brain forever, like a siren in scraps of red fabric that I wanted to tear from her body. It all but killed me to act like a gentleman that day and for the months afterwards. She’s the woman I spent hours talking late into the evening with, the person who I thought understood me better than anyone else.
I can’t help reaching down a hand to cup her face. She closes her eyes and sinks against my hand even as she continues sucking me in and out, more vigorously than ever, like she wants me closer, deeper, more, her moans more frantic—
And I fucking lose it. I tap the side of her head but she doesn’t move and I barely get the words out, “I’m cumming,” but still she doesn’t move away and then it’s too late. I lose it and my hand tangles in her hair as my cum pumps out of me and paints the inside of her throat.
She swallows and sucks and swallows some more, her throat a vise around my cock, pulling even more cum out of me, and then more still.
I’ve never felt more empty or more complete and for a second, everything in the world is as it should be.
One breath. Two.
But then the real world comes buzzing back to life. Her warm mouth slips off of me. The cold intrudes. It’s back to reality. And I’ve let her see too much.
She is who she is. The woman who betrayed me.
Or...did she? What if it was all a misunderstanding?
Says the guy who just got his brain sucked out through his dick.
I stand up abruptly and button my pants. “Good night, Daphne. You’ve earned your seven patents.” And then I turn and go, not looking back once. Because I’m not sure I could bear seeing the hurt on her face.
Fourteen
Present Day
Logan
I sit in my study and try to focus on the academic journal I’m reading about nerve regeneration research but I’ve read the same fucking line at least ten times.
I slap the paper down on the floor beside my chair and stand, pacing in front of the fire. Having her under my roof again… I run my hands through my hair and imagine her up in her bed.
Her lithe little body curled up around her pillow. I remember the endless nights I watched her sleep after she caught cold from running headlong into the labyrinth.
Even then she was trying to escape you.
I laugh humorlessly and walk to the liquor cabinet, pour a couple fingers of whiskey, and down it. The fire bites at my throat but I’m already pouring another.
But I thought I could train her, make her mine. I thought it meant something that she reached for me in her feverish dreams...but she was playing me even then. Planning her next escape from the second the first failed.
Did she think she could manipulate the patents out of me? Because I was so foolish to fall for her feminine wiles. That because I’m a disfigured recluse I would be easy to fool while she and that bastard Archer laughed themselves home to the bank?
And maybe now she’s playing me all over again. I thought I knew her, but I’ve been substituting the memory of the girl that was for the woman that is now, and they aren’t the same. Still, how many years did I long to have her in my arms? Of finally having the girl of my dreams?
And earlier, her angel lips around my cock, those paradoxically innocent fuck-me eyes… Sex with her is always more than just a master and sub. It’s never so simple. That girl has so many hooks twisted up in my insides. A lifetime’s worth.
But then I imagine her flashing him the same eyes. The betrayal burns so much deeper than her father’s ever could. Just picturing her and Archer together, her laughing, curved into his body, her arms around his neck has me hurling the second glass of whiskey at the wall instead of drinking it.
Why am I still torturing myself like this? Why did I let her back into this house? Is it just because if she’s here it means she’s not there with him? That’s what I told myself. That I’ll never let them be together. That I’ll ruin them both.
But then there was the way she’s melted under my touch since she’s been back. That wasn’t acting. If sex is the only way to wring a genuine moment out of her…
Maybe I can’t trust anything when it comes to her, though. All I know is I can’t let her keep throwing me off balance like that. It’s time to take back control, for my own fucking sanity.
My pacing suddenly leads me towards the door. I grab my mask and pull it on. And then I’m out of the office and stomping up the stairs.
To her room.
I don’t bother being quiet as I slam the door open. Her yelp tells me she doesn’t miss my lack of subtlety.
I don’t turn on the lights as I head straight towards the bed. A small bit of light streams in from the window, just enough to make out the luscious shape of her body as she sits up in bed.
“Logan?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep and confusion. “What are y—”
“Silence,” I bark.
I rip back the covers and her arms immediately move to cover herself. All she’s wearing is a tiny camisole and panties. She’s fucking gorgeous. A goddess. I grab her wrists and pin them over her head. Her chest heaves, perfect breasts round and nipples pebbling, and her eyes catch the light from the window, sparkling in the dark. Bewitching me all over again.
Which just fucking infuriates me. My teeth clench and I let go of her wrists only long enough to whip off my belt.
“Wait, Logan, I don’t know if I can, not so soon after—”
“I said silence!” I hiss. I drop over her, getting right in her face. “Do you wan
t to leave this bed, pack your bags, and get the hell out of my fucking castle? Then say so.”
Her mouth purses like she’s barely holding back from cursing me out and her hips buck underneath me.
But she doesn’t say a word. I smile cruelly.
Then I take my belt, grab her wrists, and proceed to use it to tie her hands to the headboard.
The position exposes her breasts and makes them arch outwards. I can’t help leaning over and drawing one into my mouth. She cries out again, but this time it’s an ecstatic sound, and when she writhes underneath me, it’s not to buck me off. She’s melting. Already I know her body so well and it’s a fucking high to feel her response.
But then it flashes through my mind like poison: the image of him on top of her, his hands on these perfect breasts.
And I bite down on her precious nipple.
“Logan!” she shouts, high and breathy, cumming hard.
My cock goes rock hard. The pain. She’s orgasmed from the pain again. Oh fuck.
I lathe her nipple as she writhes underneath me and then I switch to the other, only letting up long enough to demand, “Do it again. Do it again now.”
Then I suckle her other nipple to the point of pain, and, right as her writhing is at its most violent, I bite down again.
Again her moaning cries reach a fever pitch. “Logan, oh gods, Logan, yes, please. I— I lo—”
I slam a hand over her mouth as I raise up and straddle her, undoing the button of my fly. I straddle those perfect breasts and then order, “Silence.”
Then I move my hand from her mouth to cover her eyes as I pull out my cock and begin to roughly stroke it. I’m wearing the mask but it only covers half my face and I’m too exposed. She can’t see what she does to me.
Oh fuck, she’s so beautiful tied up and laid out underneath me like a feast. She’s still twisting and writhing, no doubt trying to get more friction on her clit or her breasts but she won’t find either.
Though that doesn’t mean I won’t tease her with what she won’t ever have again. I press my cock between the valley of her luscious breasts.
And almost pass out from the filthy fucking picture it makes.
I have to defile her smooth, blemish free skin. I have to mark her as fucking mine. I fist my cock painfully and drag up and down. I grab my balls roughly and squeeze, then go back to stroking myself.
“Please, Logan, I want to see,” she whimpers.
“Quiet,” I growl, one hand still firmly in place over her eyes. She’ll never see me vulnerable like this. But I still have to mark her. I’ve never felt a more carnal drive in my whole fucking life.
“No, fuck quiet,” I suddenly decide. “Beg me,” I demand. “Beg to be painted in my cum.”
She swallows hard and a shudder runs through her body. “Please Logan. I- I want your cum. I want every part of you. I want to feel your cum on my tits. I- I need it. I want to feel you spurt so hot on me. I want you to rub it in and claim me—”
“Oh fuck,” I groan and I can’t hold it back any more.
“Logan, make me dirty with your cum—”
Cum jets out of my cock so hard it splatters all over her tits and into the hollow of her throat. Her back arches and she thrusts her breasts out to receive even more of my cum, which just keeps shooting out in the most powerful fucking spurts I’ve ever experienced.
And then I do just as she begged. I rub it into every inch of her breasts, massaging and marking her with my cum like it’s the most expensive lotion.
When I’m done, we’re both panting like we’ve run a marathon.
I want to collapse on top of her. I want to hold her to me. I remember the one and only night we spent together back when she was really my girl. Or at least back before the world had corrupted her.
Maybe she was always this...this deceitful thing, and I just couldn’t see it back then. But no, she was just a young woman in pain. I truly don’t believe there was malice in her back then. Although I don’t know if I can even trust myself anymore. Everything I thought I knew… I was such a fool, so blindsided by what was to come.
But for awhile, I thought I could still hold everything together. Her father’s company. Her. I thought we could make it, that I could be strong enough for all of us.
She blinks up at me in the darkness, those luminous eyes that I so long mistook for soul-searching. I break her gaze and roughly undo her wrists. “Get your beauty sleep. You’ll need it, considering what I have planned for you tomorrow.”
Fifteen
7 Years Ago
Daphne
“Wake up, sleepy kitten,” Logan’s gently teasing voice wakes me. “We’re home.”
I blink open my eyes. We went for another beach outing, something we’ve done several times this summer, even though it’s not even technically summer anymore. September’s just begun but that meant the beaches were less populated.
Logan and I swam in the ocean like we always do, my favorite part since it’s an excuse for him to sometimes put his hands on me. Like an idiot, I live for those touches.
But things have been so bad at home that I was especially eager for the escape today. Because I’m a terrible person. Eager to leave her ill mother and worried, moody, anxious father… But Mom told me to go, said she’d be angry if I didn’t.
And the day on the golden sand, stretched out beside Logan, counting the freckles on his arm and dreaming up new constellations from the way they’re arranged while the waves crashed in the background and the sun warmed my skin…heaven.
My whole body is still relaxed from the day as I sit up in the truck, still sleepy. “What time is it?” I reach for my phone only to find it’s run out of battery.
“About nine o’clock.”
“Wow.” I scrub my face, the smell of salt and sand permeating Logan’s truck. “Sorry to just conk out on you like that.”
He smiles sideways at me as he pulls into the driveway in front of Thornhill. “Don’t be. You’re angelic when you sleep.”
His eyes linger on me and the intensity that seems to occasionally spark between us lights up like a firecracker in the small space of the cab.
I want to reach out and touch his face. I want to climb his body like I did in the ocean when I pretended to be afraid of something in the water even though I knew it was really just seaweed catching at my feet.
I want to ask him if it really is just obligation that’s had him spending so much time with me or if it’s something else, if he sees me like a man sees a woman. If there could ever be something between us or if I’m going to be doomed to this hopeless longing forever.
But the moment is suddenly broken when the front door of Thornhill crashes open, slamming against the wooden frame of the house, and my father storms out.
“Where the hell have you been?” he shouts.
I stumble out of the truck. “Daddy, I’m so sorry, what’s going on?”
And…that’s when I realize he’s not talking to me at all. It’s Logan he’s shouting at. “My wife is dying and you have your cell phone turned off all day? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Dad gets right up in Logan’s face. “She’s turned and could be a matter of days if we don’t save her now and you’re off gallivanting with—”
A matter of days? Oh Mama.
Then Dad’s eyes turn disdainfully my way, looking me up and down. “And you would just abandon your mother like that? I thought I raised you to be a better daughter.”
His words cut to the quick and I flee towards the house.
“Daphne!” Logan calls after me but I don’t turn to look back. I have to see Mom. A matter of days. And I missed one of them, at the beach, being one of those idiot girls I hate, stupid about a boy who doesn’t even like me back.
Tears are rolling down my cheeks by the time I make it to Mom’s room.
And she does look worse than when I left her this morning. She’s got an oxygen mask on and her skin, it doesn’t look right. It seems papery an
d gray and like the veins are too close to the surface.
“Mama!” I cry, rushing to her bedside and crashing to my knees beside it, taking her hand. Her eyes are sunken and they move slow, like it takes her effort to even move them to look at me.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here!”
But she shakes her head and motions for me to remove her oxygen mask.
“You need it.”
She frowns at me in that demanding way that is so Mom, I smile through my tears and do as she asks.
Her eyes soften but she looks so tired, a frail shell of her former beauty. “I’m glad,” her voice comes out a frail whisper. “I’m glad you went. Too much of your life,” she takes a heaving breath, “in this sick room.”
“No, Mom, all I want is to be with you.” More tears well and spill down my cheeks. Please, the last thing I want her to think is that she’s a burden. “You’re the best part of my life.”
She smiles at that and then lifts a wan hand to run through my hair. “A mother’s job is to send her daughter out into the world. To see her happy.” A big, heaving breath. “Not to hold her back like your father and I have all these years.”
I shake my head fervently. “You haven’t held me back. I’ve been so happy.”
“You will be. You will be. Live your life. For me. Swear you will. Swear it.”
I nod, trying to swallow back tears. “I swear.”
“Good,” she breathes out. “Because I want you to spend every day at the beach. To fall in love a hundred times. Or maybe just once with the right man.”
I can’t help lowering my eyes as my cheeks flush.
Mom squeezes my hand. “Oh darling. Logan?”
I open my mouth to tell her it’s just a stupid crush but when I look up, she’s beaming at me. “He’s a good man. And I see the way he looks at you. Like you hang the moon and stars.”
And then she relaxes back into the bed, her eyes closing. I suspect it’s taken more effort than I thought for her to say so much, but still she whispers. “I’m so glad. You’ll need someone strong to look out for you when I’m gone.”
Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set Page 23
