Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

by M. S. Parker

  He pushed me forward, his grip on my hair guiding me back to the floor. I was helpless, unable to brace myself. He controlled me, made sure I was flat and steady and then I gasped as I felt his thumbs on the cheeks of my ass, pulling me wide.

  “If I didn’t want to hear you scream for me, I’d have it back in.”

  I felt the cool liquid trickle down my ass, then gasped as his thumb pushed inside me. His finger followed, working my ass open for what was to come.

  He spoke as he pressed a second finger forward, his voice blunt and direct. “It’s going to hurt you some. You have to take it because I can’t make it not hurt. If it’s too much, you remember your safe word, right?”

  I nodded, apprehension grabbing and twisting me. The burn from his fingers was fading into pleasure, but I knew he was so much bigger than his fingers.

  “I’m also going to mark you tonight,” he promised. “And you won’t cover it up.” His free hand reached down and grasped my collar. He didn’t pull on it, but I could feel his fingers caressing the soft material. “You’re mine, and by the time we’re done, you’re going to know exactly what that means.”

  He pulled his fingers out so suddenly that I gasped. And then I felt it, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my asshole. I tried to relax, but my body was coiled too tight. He pushed forward slowly and I sucked in a desperate breath through my nostrils, trying to adjust the head of his cock as it squeezed in past the ring of muscle. He held there for a moment, rocking slowly. He wasn’t moving much, just shallow sways of his body that fooled my body into relaxing. The second I did, he slid deeper. I tensed.

  He fisted a hand in my hair and jerked.

  Gasping, I arched up. So focused on that pain, I forgot to fight the invasion of my body and he worked deeper, then deeper.

  Pain bloomed, threatening to overtake me and he slowed, shifting to those slow, shallow thrusts and lulling me into relaxing again.

  I shuddered around him as he smoothed a hand down the curve of my hip, along my butt and then administered a series of quick hard slaps that left my skin stinging and my clit throbbing, desperate for release. As though I’d told him that, he slid his other hand around and stroked me.

  I climaxed almost immediately, quick and hard.

  And he drove completely inside, in one ruthless thrust.

  I screamed, the pain brutal, overshadowing the pleasure of my orgasm. I twitched and twisted, tried to tear away from him. He pulled my hair and forced me up, forced my body to accommodate him, accept him. His teeth scraped against the side of my neck.

  “Is it too much?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, not sure if he believed me.

  He rotated his hips. “Say the word. Tell me…”

  The word.

  The safe word.

  It formed in my mind. On my lips.

  He rotated his hips again and slapped the flat of his hand against my mound, directly against my clit. I felt him swell inside my ass, impossibly and painfully large, and he said again, “Say the word if you want me to stop.”

  Suddenly, I remembered the look on his face when I’d seen him in the restaurant. I thought of the pain he must have been in when he’d realized I’d left without even asking him to explain. I’d thought he’d broken my heart, but I’d been the one who’d done wrong. I’d violated the trust between us. I needed to prove that I trusted him.

  This was how.

  “No.” I twisted my head around and kissed him, ignoring the pain. No. I welcomed it and rolled my hips, riding his cock. I screamed against his mouth as the movement stretched me wider. I bit down on his bottom lip and he cupped my breasts, squeezing in a way I would’ve found painful if he hadn’t been buried, balls deep, in my ass.

  He broke the kiss and twisted my head back around so that he could have access to my neck. As his mouth latched on to a spot just above my collar, I knew he was making good on his promise to mark me. He gripped my hip and my hair and held me steady as he plunged inside, over and over, his thrusts pushing me off my knees.

  I didn’t know when the pain slid away into pleasure, but it did and I found myself driving back onto him and begging, pleading. The hand that steadied my hip moved between my thighs, plunging in and out as he flicked his thumb against my clitoris. He pulsed inside me, swelled, and I knew he was close.

  His thumb circled and teased at my clit and then he bit down as he shoved himself deep inside me. Hard.

  I came only a moment before he did and as I heard him say my name, blackness danced before me.

  * * *

  He must have taken off all of restraints while I was passed out because when I came to, he was carrying me into the shower.

  He cleaned me, washing me from head to toe, including my hair and I didn’t even protest when he used the wrong shampoo. I didn’t exactly mind the idea of smelling like him. Besides, I barely had the energy to stand there as it was.

  The water stung against every spot the flogger had landed and I could feel the place on my neck where he’d bitten me. I ached all over and when he used a soft wash cloth and rubbed me between the cheeks of my ass, I whimpered.

  “Shhh,” he murmured.

  Ducking my head, I closed my eyes and pretended I wasn’t blushing over the shocking intimacy of it. I felt his lips press against the space between my shoulder blades and shivered at the gentle touch, such a stark contrast to what we’d just done.

  I was about ready to fall asleep on my feet when he turned off the water and then, again, picked me up.

  “I can walk,” I mumbled, my head falling against his chest.

  “And I can carry you,” he said against my hair.

  When he lay me down, at first, I didn’t notice anything odd.

  Then, I realized that the bed didn’t feel quite right. My eyes flew open and I looked around. The steel gray walls surrounding me weren’t my walls. The maroon accents weren’t mine.

  “Dominic?”

  He curled up in the bed next to me and drew me into the curve of his body. “You stay with me tonight,” he said, his voice flat.

  His fingers brushed against the spot on my neck where he’d marked me. His voice softened. “Will you stay with me?”

  Mute, I nodded. All of the emotions that had been just below the surface came bubbling up. Eyes blurring with tears, I turned into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry.”

  His hand curved over the back of my neck. “Next time, trust in me,” he said, his voice ragged.

  “I will,” I promised as I felt the tears trailing down my cheek.

  He held me tighter until I fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dominic

  Three days had passed since she’d cried herself to sleep in my arms Saturday night.

  Sunday, when she’d tried to talk about it, I’d simply asked if she trusted me.

  “Yes.” Then she’d looked away, but I’d still seen the shine of tears in her eyes. “I should have trusted you more. I was wrong. Can you—”

  I’d kissed her to cut the words off and said, “It’s over. We don’t look back. You trust me. I trust you.”

  We hadn’t spoken of it since and as far as I was concerned, it was done.

  What I was finding disconcerting was that I found myself thinking of words like…love. She’d said them to me, so easily. Only once, but I knew she’d meant them. I hadn’t been able to say them to her out loud, but lately, more and more, I found myself saying them silently, in my head.

  Last night, I’d even mouthed them against her shoulder as she fell asleep. In my bed. Again.

  I’d thought about telling her.

  Maybe I would. Tonight. I smiled at the thought of it. Maybe…

  “Mr. Snow.”

  I came to a halt as Stan Kowalski rose from the bench just outside the front doors of Trouver L’Amour. Annette had suggested benches scattered around the grounds for those who’d like to walk around and talk in a more structured and protected envi
ronment.

  I hadn’t foreseen having a private investigator use one of them to lie in wait for me, but clearly, that was what he’d been doing.

  “Good morning, Mr. Kowalski,” I said slowly. I forced myself to push aside all the thoughts of Aleena and focus on him. He was here for a reason.

  He smiled at me. Tapping an envelope against his thigh, he strode toward me. “Oh, it’s a beautiful morning, that’s for sure.” He stopped a few feet away and nodded. “Yes, very beautiful.”

  I eyed him thoughtfully, then asked, “Have you learned anything new?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Oh, yes, I have, Mr. Snow. I think I’ve got something that could well help us find your birth mother.”

  Continues in Serving HIM Vol. 6

  Serving HIM Vol. 6

  Chapter One

  Aleena

  Harsh, golden sunlight pierced my eyes and I immediately jerked upright.

  Just as immediately, I regretted it.

  Groaning, I sagged back on the bed and squinted up at the ceiling overhead. The ceiling wasn’t mine. The slant was all wrong and the design…yeah, not mine. The windows allowing the sunlight to slant in and blind me? Not my windows.

  Ergo, I wasn’t in my room. Again.

  Rolling my head to the side, I let my eye open a little more and saw the posts of the bed, a very familiar bed. I’d fallen asleep last night with Dominic wrapped around me.

  It had been…intense. I shivered a little at the memory.

  Forcing both eyes open, I looked around, but Dominic was already gone. There wasn’t a clock—Dominic wasn’t much on having his time interrupted by menial things like, well, time. He was a punctual person, but when we stepped in here, the outside world ceased to exist.

  I sighed. Unfortunately, the outside world kept moving forward and that meant I had to get out of bed, especially since I had the feeling that I was late. Judging by the angle of the sun, it was well after eight.

  Dominic was probably already at the office. I grimaced. It was Monday and I should have been up and moving, heading out there with him so we could spend the first hour or so syncing his work and personal calendars. I’d have to call him and let him know that I was running a bit behind.

  I rolled onto my back and winced. When we'd gotten back here Saturday night, after he'd taken my ass for the first time, he'd brought me to his room and told me to stay, saying he'd need me again. And he had. Again, and again. We'd spent almost all of yesterday in bed. Well, metaphorically at least, and my body was sore enough to prove it.

  Moving gingerly, I looked around and saw that he had tidied up at some point, cleaning and putting away the toys he'd used. That didn't surprise me. He believed in taking care of his possessions.

  And me.

  My fingers lightly touched my neck where his collar had been all day yesterday. I missed it—that symbol of how I belonged to him. A reminder that I was his.

  I smiled, remembering how he’d massaged out the tension in my arms, shoulders and back after he’d released me from the ropes he’d used on me last night. He’d carried me to the bathroom and held me as we sat in the tub, his fingers coaxing me to a less intense, but still pleasurable, orgasm. Afterwards, he’d dried me off, slicked me all up and down with lotion, and carried me back to the bed, not letting me do a thing. I’d felt pampered and treasured. Completely adored.

  After the weekend we’d had, I felt like I was starting to truly understand what it meant to be a Sub, and it was so much more than I’d ever imagined. So much deeper.

  Then the guilt came back. I'd let him down. I hadn’t trusted him.

  The pictures flashed through my mind and I wanted to hit something. Preferably Penelope, although a wall would do, anything to empty myself of the frustration and anger building inside me.

  “I should have trusted you more. I was wrong. Can you—”

  My throat went tight as I remembered trying to explain to him—how I’d felt, what it had done to me to see those pictures. I should have trusted him, but it had hurt so much, brought up memories of the first boy I'd ever slept with. The only person besides Dominic I'd ever had sex with. That guy had used me. But I should have known that Dominic wasn't like that. It had been wrong of me, and I'd kept apologizing until he’d pulled me close and kissed me.

  “It’s over. We don’t look back. You trust me. I trust you.”

  Dominic had been angry though and I'd felt it Saturday night. But even then, I’d mostly felt his need. Now, I ached from it. Ached with it. More than the guilt, more than my own self-directed anger, and the anger I’d felt at Penelope, his need lingered.

  Smiling, I slid a hand down my torso, imagining it was his mouth. There was no longer a part of me that he hadn’t touched, hadn’t claimed. I hadn't looked in the mirror yet this morning, but I knew there were marks on my neck, my breasts, my thighs. Marks made by his mouth. Bruises where his hands had gripped my hips so tightly. Then there were the invisible ones, the ones no one would see, but I would feel. The tender skin on my ass where he'd spanked me, used a flogger. The ache between my legs where he'd slammed into my pussy until I'd screamed. My ass, throbbing from his fingers and his magnificent cock.

  My own fingers brushed over my clitoris and I gasped. It was already swollen and sensitive, or maybe it was just still that way, after being teased and tormented so wonderfully.

  A lash of heat swelled through me and I bucked my hips. Eyes closed, I pictured he was here, with me. Again. Slowly, I circled my fingers over my clit. Then, quicker, faster. Dipping them inside, I flexed them, stretched them, opened them. My pussy was tight and it gripped me.

  Moaning, I rolled over onto my belly and started to ride my hand. In my mind, it was Dominic.

  He was under me.

  Behind me.

  Surrounding me.

  He overwhelmed me and controlled me and dominated me in so many ways.

  He owned me.

  I gasped out his name as I climaxed.

  * * *

  I made short work of my shower and dressed. I needed to make up for lost time. I was ready in no time and dialed Dominic’s cell to let him know I'd be on my way in just a few minutes. As soon as I found my other shoe.

  He answered, but his voice was distracted.

  “Ah…hi.” My hand was damp as I gripped the phone. Instinctively, I knew something was wrong.

  “Good morning, Aleena,” he said quietly.

  “Good morning.” I looked out the window, staring outside into the park, my shoe forgotten. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s…”

  I heard it, the lie he was ready to voice. Then he blew out a breath. “Shit, I don’t know. I’m in a meeting. It’s…personal.”

  “Oh. I…” I frowned as I tried to remember what he'd had on his schedule for this morning. “I just wanted to let you know that I was running late this morning. Didn't want you to be worried. I’m sorry I overslept.”

  Dominic chuckled. It was a heady, intimate sound and it warmed the parts of me that had gone cool at the sound of his distant voice only seconds ago. Whatever was wrong, it wasn't about me. “I’m not sorry at all.”

  “Oh. Well…um. I’ll be there soon.” Where was my damn shoe?

  “No.” Although the tension didn’t return to his voice, he still didn’t sound quite himself. “Just work there today, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hesitated and then asked, “Are you alright, Dominic?”

  “I will be. I’ll see you later, Aleena.”

  The called ended before I had the chance to reply and I stood there, staring at my phone, trying to figure out what had happened.

  It wasn’t distance, I realized. He wasn't pushing me away and he wasn't angry.

  He was upset. Cool, in control, Dominic Snow was upset enough to be distracted.

  That scared the hell out of me.

  Chapter Two

  Dominic

  I stared at the documentation covering the tabl
e.

  I leaned back, wishing I were in my office where I could pace. Lacing my hands behind my neck, I tried to still the restlessness burning inside me, although I knew it was a futile exercise.

  “So do you want me to pursue this?”

  I'd almost forgotten Stanley Kowalski was there even though he'd been the one to bring me the documents. He'd been waiting for me outside of Trouver L'Amour first thing this morning and had said he had something. We'd gone to a nearby diner to discuss matters. And we definitely had things to discuss.

  He’d talked to my father.

  I hadn’t talked to my father in so long, I couldn’t even recall the sound of his voice. Through the grapevine, I’d kept up with him to some extent. I knew he’d remarried five years ago. I knew he had two children. Two children who were biologically his. Two polite, well-behaved little Snows who were the exact opposite of me. His flesh and blood, ready to be molded into whatever he wanted them to be.

  “What did you think of my father?” I asked Kowalski woodenly.

  There was no immediate answer.

  His face held no expression, his eyes carefully blank. He was good, I thought. Maybe I should hire him for any future investigative work I needed for the Winter Corporation. He just couldn’t be ruffled. I appreciated that. But I had the feeling I’d surprised him.

  “What did I think of him?” he asked, parroting my question back at me.

  “Yes. What did you think of him?”

  He angled his head, pondering the question. Then, he leaned forward. “If I give you my honest response, is it going to piss you off?”

  “No.” One corner of my mouth twitched.

  “I think he’s the biggest dick I’ve met in a very long time.” Kowalski’s smile was coolly polite, but his eyes gleamed. “I’ve worked with some of the crème de la crème, Mr. Snow. I’ve met assholes unlike anything you can imagine and your father takes the cake.”