Billionaire Romance: Darque Initiation (A Darque Billionaire Romance Book 1) (5 page)

Why was the question, but there was no doubt his attraction was intense, brutishly sexual, and as lusty as a pirate’s first day back from a long sea voyage. He couldn’t wait to kiss her neck, tasting her pallid flesh and feeling her body warm his lips. He trickled down to her neck, pulling at her dress and placing fiery kisses on her shoulders, caressing every inch.

She moaned softly. He took her face into his strong hands and moved his lips down to her chest, nuzzling his forehead to her breasts. Consumed with passion, he began lowering her dress finding her strapless beige bra and kissing her cleavage.

“Mmmm…” she whispered, holding him by his hair, craving his attention but trying to convince herself it was a bad idea. It had to be…

But he wasn’t having it. He had wanted her all night, desiring this very moment. He’d craved nothing more than to taste her, sample her luscious curves and strip her bare. Not as a moment of drunken regret; he wanted them both sober so they could fully experience the eroticism of the moment.

He unhooked her bra and let it fall, sucking nipples as he put his hands through her hair. There was no stopping him and he made love like he already owned her body. He sucked one nipple until it was hard, and then traded off, licking the other until it stiffened. Then he wrapped his tongue around her areola, licking a circle around, anxious to hear her little protective moans. He loved the sound of Bella groaning against her will. He could almost hear the sweet, secret internal thoughts of, “this feels wrong…but I want it so bad…”

At some point, Bella threw caution to the wind, and relented—she knew he would win, that he would take her, and that’s when the change occurred.

Suddenly, Bastien seemed almost…resentful. Almost pouting. Oh, yes, he still made love to her. But with darker intent, less innocent, maybe even a little greedy. He hoisted off his pull over shirt, exposing his muscular pectorals and ribs and just a hint of chest hair. Then, he made sure to lie on top of her, trapping her against the couch as he continued devouring her breasts and moving his hungry lips all over her hips, stomach and thighs.

He knew just where she wanted to be kissed and sucked and licked harder, as if…almost as if to make it hurt. Like a hickey or like a brief gnawing using his teeth. He wanted her to feel something beyond simple pleasure. He held her down by her wrists and sucked her nipples harder, making sure she let out a big sigh—just a little embarrassed. Almost pained…almost.

Then, still holding one arm hard to the couch, he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, unleashing his big cock. She only saw it from a distance, looking down and passed his huge, invasive chest. But it didn’t matter what it measured…he would make sure she felt every inch of his legendary member. He took off her panties quickly, never asking permission, and assuming she was wet enough—which she was. He stroked her labia, making sure she was ready for the entry that she was ‘experienced’ enough to take the hit.

She groaned loudly as he pushed himself inside of her, giving her just five inches to start with—not even reaching his full length before she cried from a deep stretch.

“Ohhh…so big…” she claimed, feeling her wetness increase as he began stroking to a strong and persistent rhythm.

Didn’t even put a condom on. Didn’t even ask about protection. That wasn’t Bastien Darque, was it? That’s what she thought, intellectually objecting to the idea of him—even while letting him fuck her like mad.

At first he was just tough and pulsating. But as he kept thrusting, and inserting more of his cock inside—probably topping out at ten inches, she thought, as he kept pushing in farther—he started building a rougher pattern.

She began moaning and sighing, signals for a weaker man to calm down, slow down and enjoy the moment. But her weakness only seemed to drive him deeper—to fuck her harder and to pound her intensely—as if trying to destroy all loving memories of her former limp-dicked boyfriend.

She almost became afraid at the thought—at his energy—but the more she resisted, the better it felt. She loved the feeling of surrendering to him, of opening up and spreading her legs, just to appease him and make it hurt less. She wanted him to fuck her with everything he had, to lose himself and lose all control.

The idea turned her on and she began lubricating all over him, wetting his member and his couch—oh shit!—and writhing into him, matching his furious penetration.

“Yes! Yes!” she shouted, stuck completely in twisted fuckery—his hands violently restraining her wrists and his big penis shoving inside her intimacy like a goddamned canon. She fought her orgasm, her loud and embarrassing scream, as hard as she could but it came out in waves. A first, then a quick second and a third, before Bastien even showed signs of weakening himself.

He grunted powerfully, more like a bestial growl, but wasn’t much for losing control. His whole body clenched when he was ready to come. She felt his spasming cock and then clenched her vaginal walls tight—making sure he unloaded every last drop of semen into her throbbing valley. It was all his idea to fuck her. She thought about making love. But he just fucked her hard and fast and she went with it.

Oh God…what did we just do?
She thought in between long gasps and sighs, trying to recover from her orgasm and the steamy hot feeling of his sweating chest all over her bare skin. Maybe it’s best not to overanalyze it now, she figured, having just enough gusto left to lean over and fall asleep, clutching his hair and holding his face in her still bouncing breasts.
 

*****

The sex was good. Too good, in fact. It was the sort of intense, what-in-the-world-am-I-doing fucking that made a woman like Bella overanalyze and panic. It was the first time she slept with a man on a first date, and definitely, the first time she slept with her boss—and a wealthy politician’s relative, and…well, the list went on. A lot of firsts.

He called a cab for her, again, long gone before she woke up. As soon as she arrived back home, she researched more on Bastien Darque, wondering just what skeletons lay in the closet and why it took a specialty firm to hide the real truth.

Yes, he may have been a womanizer. But what else? What else was he hiding? It’s not like such a perfect guy would only have eyes for some young girl-next-door intern. Something else was coming into play.

She found more than enough dirt when she started making phone calls and searching databases—far more than a politician’s family probably wanted, but by then the research was more personal than she dared to admit.

*****

Carter Abrams wasn’t too pleased at her report when she handed it to him Monday morning. The file seemed to list a log of suspicious incidents involving Bastien and his treatment of women.

“I don’t understand, Bella. Why are you digging things up on this guy? You know that’s not your job.”

“I know, but I just figured if we knew what the press was saying, before they said it, we would have a better means to spin our story. Making him look favorable. We can’t be ignorant of the scandal.”

“No, no, that’s not at all…what…Listen,” he said, quite annoyed. “The job description says you follow orders. We had very specific orders from Mister Darque. Online content production, press releases, events…he at no time asked for anyone to probe deeper into his life. Are you making this personal?”

“No…I mean…no. I guess you’re right.”

“Then act like a professional God damn it,” Abrams said, shaking his head and taking the report out of sight. He thought it best not to let anyone else see the uglier reports, lest they fall into the wrong hands.

But it wasn’t just about the ‘truth’ the way the Darques would spin it. This was about knowing the real Bastien, the man whom she made love to, and knowing just how dangerous he might be.

Just as she relaxed and began to focus on ‘job description’ work, Bastien showed up, looking agitated and yelling for Arabella by name.

Abrams looked at her, wondering what the hell she could have done to stress the client—
really, Bella? Not even three days and you’re already costing the firm its biggest client in ten years?

“Where is she?” Darque demanded. “Arabella Stone. I need to speak to her.”

“The intern?”

“She is my new Account Coordinator. I’m giving her a new title.”

Abrams stared at Bella from a distance, having heard everything and probably rightly assuming something was amiss.

“There you are,” he said, finding Bella’s eyes. “I need to see you. Something’s come up,” he said. “We’re going to take a lunch. Now.”

Bella tried to stop from laughing, only releasing an inappropriate smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Something has been reported to me. Concerning my name,” he corrected, not appreciating the double entendre he inadvertently made.

“Now. You have some explaining to do, young lady.”

She lost her smile. Apparently the probing into his character wasn’t so private and discreet after all.

*****

“I’m sorry,” Bella sighed, apologizing to Bastien who complained of two inquiries from past associates and two credit checks, just within a day.

“This is the thanks I get for showing you a good time? Probing into my character and talking to people that claim they knew me?”

“I’m sorry. I thought it was my job.”

“Your job?” he said, becoming truly annoyed for the first time. “Your job is to do what I say.”

“I just thought if we uncovered more of the truth, we could better respond to the criticism you’re receiving.”

“The truth? Don’t you get it? The truth is illusory. Truth is all about perspective. You tell one perspective of the truth and it becomes a distortion. Your job is to cover this shit up. Not give them more ammunition.”

“So what? Why am I on trial here?” Bella finally said, raising her voice and finding his eyes—a bold new emotion that he hadn’t quite seen. “You’re the one who’s been implicated in murder, bribes, money-laundering, and extortion. And you want to lecture me? Maybe I’m the one who’s sorry, Darque that I ever slept with you. Believing all those lies.”

“Lies?”

“Yes! Are you going to deny all that’s true?”

“True? And by all means, little girl,” he said with an angry glimmer in his eye. “Tell me what you know about ultimate truth, from all twenty years of your vast learning experience.”

“Whatever,” she said, turning away and pouting. She knew deep down she wasn’t afraid of him. He probably made some stupid choices here and there…but he couldn’t have actually killed anybody.
Could he?

She looked at him again, unsure if Bastien was giving another well-rehearsed speech or something close to a sincere thought.

“I’ve never lied about anything, Arabella. But I refuse to give reporters the stories they crave. Truth is more complicated than a headline. Remember that, little girl.”

“I’m not your little girl,” Bella reminded him, finally letting her inner feminist show.

“Yes, you are. You work for me. You make rash and foolish mistakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“And the only reason I brought you on this project was because I liked your big juicy ass. Now how does that make you feel?”

“
How dare you
! This is harassment.”

“This is justice, Arabella. You insult me? You humiliate me? You make me feel like shit? I return the favor. And I make it hurt.”

“Oh, I insulted you?”

“Yes, you did. Was that the ‘reporter’ in you? That wanted a scandal after our night together? No, I call it a violation of trust. You are a child, Arabella. You hear me?”

She dropped her mouth off in shock and glared at him.

“And I ought to turn you over my knee and spank you. Right in front of all your stupid colleagues. What do you think of that?”

She shook her head and started to stand up.

“SIT DOWN,” he ordered, causing her to flinch and freeze in place. “I could, you know. Literally spank you. In front of everyone. And you’d have no choice but to take it. And they’d have to eat crow and watch your humiliation.”

Arabella sat, cheeks blazing. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response to his threats. No, they weren’t threats, she knew. He meant every damn word he said.

“But I’m not going to do that. At least, not for now. Because I’m giving you another chance to redeem yourself.”

              She folded her arms, but decided to stay put.

“You’re a naughty girl. You need punishment. Maybe even a good spanking.”

She laughed. And shook her head, disappointed that she laughed, letting him off the hook. “You are an asshole, you know that?”

“And do you only fuck assholes, Arabella?”

She almost objected. But it was rather pointless now, wasn’t it? He won the argument…and he always made sure he did.

“Now. Allow me to set the record straight. No, I have never killed anyone. I have an alibi for that. My grandmother. I was with her at the time and
that is on record
. Look it up, along with all your other extracurricular research.”

“Hmmm,” she said, taking mental notes, and more than ready to see for herself with a quick police records search.