Her Guardian Billionaire (Forbidden First Time Romance) (3 page)

BOOK: Her Guardian Billionaire (Forbidden First Time Romance)
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I said it. Out loud.
Anna’s heart thrummed in her chest and blood whooshed through her veins. She’d seen the way he looked at her—watching the necklace dip lower and lower between her breasts, glancing at her leg as she crossed it over and back. He wanted her. He just needed to admit it.

“I’m thirty-nine, Anna.”
And gorgeous
. She loved his short and sexy beard and his hair long enough to hold onto.
Mmm
. She could run her fingers through it all night. And his body.
Oh, god
. She’d stolen enough glances while he swam or worked out to know how much muscle a well-cut suit could hide.

“So? That’s not old.”

“I’m your guardian.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?”

“We hardly know each other.”

“I know enough.”

A bolt of anger welled up inside her and Anna slapped her hand on the table. “Stop arguing!”

James’s eyes flashed to match her own. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“Then don’t. Take what you want instead. Take me.”

With a groan, he reached out, grazing her cheek with his palm. The scrape of his skin across hers sent sparks of electricity through her, straight from her face to her clit and back again. She squirmed on the seat, pressing her thighs together to relieve the sudden ache.

As he stroked her cheek, he inched closer, rising up out of the chair until his lips brushed hers.
Yes! Please kiss me.
Anna closed her eyes, ready for all her dreams to come true. But nothing happened.

She fluttered her eyes open as he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Anna. We can’t. Think about the press. We’d be tabloid fodder for weeks.”

Anna snorted and rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to let Page Six dictate your life?”

“No.” He straightened up in the chair and frowned. “But a man in my position has to think about the consequences of every action.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, Anna. I should never have invited you here. I should have let you go.”

Anna folded her hands in her lap and bit her lip to keep from saying any more.
 
It wouldn’t get her anywhere at the moment. James stood up and dropped his napkin on the chair. “Goodbye, Anna. I hope the outside world treats you well.”

Anna nodded, watching as James receded into the hallway. She’d had a chance—there’d been a moment where he’d almost said yes. But he’d pulled away.
Damn James Davenport and his self-control.
She thumped the table with her fist.

She wasn’t a crumb of bread to brush aside. And she was going to prove it.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

A
NNA
CROSSED
HER
legs, rubbing her panties across her swollen sex as she thought about James. How dare he lean in for a kiss and back away.
 

She remembered when she’d first come to the estate. Thirteen with bony arms wrapped around herself and eyes too big for her face. She’d stared up at her benefactor while he’d talked to the staff. Would he be a new family? No. He’d dismissed her with a nod, a clap on the back, and an introduction to Malcolm.

She’d learned in minutes that generosity was all he could offer. New clothes, fancy furniture, expertly prepared meals. But no substitute for all she’d lost. A few weeks later and she arrived at boarding school. The place where she’d live most of the year, figuring out how to grow up on her own.

After a while, when the pain had dulled, and the years wore on, she’d changed. Gone was the awkward little girl and in her place a hormonal, sexual teenager. Daring boys to kiss her between classes, craving the spark she’d read about in books late at night. But no one ever lit a fire within her—the one she read about, dreamt about, craved. Except him.

As she sat in the empty wine cellar, she closed her eyes and thought back to the summers home from school. Hot, humid days spent lounging around the pool, waiting for James to take a swim. Watching through tinted Ray Bans as he peeled off a t-shirt and dove into the water. Stroke, stroke, breathe. Stroke, stroke, breathe.
God, to be that water
.

He’d jump out, pulling himself onto the stone before slicking back his hair, and she’d bite her lip to keep from groaning. How could scrawny nineteen-year-old boys ever compete with Mr. Davenport? It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she’d never given it all away.

And now that she’d had a taste…All she could think about was actually having him. Wrapping her legs around him in the dark as he sunk his shaft deep inside her. Him kissing her senseless as he made her a woman.
Mmm
.

She couldn’t leave. Not after catching a glimpse of the real, breathing man beneath the mask. The one who wanted her, Anna Sinclair.

Chewing on her lip, she glanced down the empty hall. If he wasn’t going to act on his attraction, she’d confront him and drag it out of him. One kiss at a time. Hopping off the chair, she slipped down the hall, checking for James in every open door and entryway. Past the gym, the pool, staff quarters, the kitchen fit for a castle. No sign of him.
Damn it
.

She almost never went to his wing—his office and bedroom were no place for her. But in the moment, she didn’t care. Sliding off her shoes, she made her way down the main hall to the double doors of James’s private quarters. Getting caught would ruin everything.

Setting her shoes on the floor outside, she turned the handle and eased inside. Padding into his waiting area, she glanced in his bedroom but he wasn’t there. That left his office. Pushing open the door, she crossed her fingers, but…no. Empty, just like the rest of the wing.

Backing up, she let go of the door, ready to admit defeat, when she paused. She was already inside. One look around his office wouldn’t hurt, would it? Maybe she’d find something she could…use.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned back and walked in before fear took over. She creeped around his desk, avoiding the papers stacked neatly on top, and pulled back his chair. Slipping onto the seat, she clicked on the computer.

She knew it was wrong—invading his privacy like a peeping tom. But if her time was up, what did it matter? She’d be out on the street tomorrow, never to see him again. A pang of regret echoed through her, and she clicked on his web browser.

Up popped his top sites. Stock market, news, business portal, BDSM site.
Wait, what?
Anna clicked on the link and a BDSM matchmaker flooded her screen.

Discreet, professional, always guaranteed. Meet your next partner today.

Wow
. She didn’t know what to think. The dominance she could see—he ordered everyone around all the time. But…bondage? More? She’d never considered it.
Is that why he ran away?
The thought of James Davenport, standing over her bound and blindfolded body…She shuddered.

Closing the web browser, she clicked the only desktop folder that didn’t shout business.
Videos
. A folder full of videos, ranging from minutes to hours filled the window. She clicked on the first one and squeaked in shock.

A woman laid spread eagle, bound to the bedposts with cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Her bare breasts bounced as she lifted her head up and down, craning her neck to see off camera. Anna had never seen anything like it.

She knew BDSM existed, hell, who didn’t these days? But seeing it? Actively watching a woman, bound and immobile? It sent a wave of pleasure through her body, and she squirmed in the chair. As she watched, a naked man walked up to the woman and covered her eyes with a blindfold. His muscles flexed in his back and ass, and as he leaned over, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Just like James.
No! It can’t be
.

She swallowed and crossed her legs, rubbing against her swollen sex. The man brought out a paddle—small and flexible—and ran it up the woman’s legs. He drew out gasps and moans before tapping it right on her bare pussy.
Oh my god!

Anna watched—transfixed and spellbound—as he tapped in steadily increasing beats. He hit her a little harder each time, turning her on and smearing her arousal all over. One final thwack and she came, face contorted in a silent scream. He hadn’t even used his hands or mouth, and she orgasmed.
Unbelievable
.

She’d never seen another woman orgasm before—not a real one at least. Once, she’d caught a handful of porn clips with a friend at boarding school. Staring in curiosity as couples fucked. But none of the women looked anything like the one on-screen. When she came, it was incredible.

Anna could barely stand the ache between her legs. Watching sex so intense and raw made her crave an orgasm of her own. Without thinking, she pulled up her dress. Hitching the black fabric over her thighs, she slipped her fingers beneath her panties.

The first slide of her finger across her clit sent a shudder through her and she fought to keep her eyes on the video. The man had traded a paddle for a handle with fringe.
What do you do with that? Tickle someone?
Anna worked her fingers up and down as the man spun the device around in his hand, picking up speed as he inched closer to the woman.

Oh!
He smacked the woman with the fringe in a path up her inner thighs until she quivered beneath him. Every brush against the woman in the video sent a wave of pleasure through Anna’s clit. Her muscles clenched and she picked up speed, rubbing faster and harder until the edges of an orgasm toyed with her.

After few minutes, the man set the new toy down and used his hands, teasing the woman’s clit with gentle strokes until she screamed out again. But he didn’t stop. He just worked her harder, prolonging her orgasm, drawing it out, making her shake and spasm on the bed.

Anna swallowed and opened her mouth, panting in arousal as the man pulled away to stroke his cock. Thick and ramrod straight, Anna licked her lips and leaned in closer. She’d given a few blow jobs in college, but both guys had been average, with dicks that seemed rather small. Not this man. Not even close.

How would that feel inside her? Breaching her for the first time, filling her up, taking her virginity. Would it hurt, or would she cry out in ecstasy?

Unwrapping a condom, the man slid it on and positioned himself at the woman’s gaping entrance.
Oh my god. He’s going to fuck her.
Anna stroked herself again, watching in wonder as the man thrust himself home. The woman came in an instant, arching and screaming and pulling on the restraints as he fucked her. Again and again he pumped, slamming into her as she gasped and trembled.

As he came, groaning his release into the condom, Anna teetered over into the abyss. The room fuzzed out, her brain shocked electric, and she gripped the chair to keep from falling over.
Holy hell
.

James inhaled in a rush. Anna coming had to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a lot.

Tucked away inside his library, he’d poured himself a scotch and sat down. As he’d sipped the drink, he’d tried to rid himself of her memory, failing miserably. The door chimed, and assuming it was Malcolm coming to check on him, he’d let it go at first. But when the man didn’t show up, he’d gone to his monitor to check.

The whole wing was equipped with closed circuit video surveillance—necessary for a man of means like himself. He’d watched her sneak in, tiptoe to his bedroom and continue down the hall. He could count on one hand the times she’d been inside his personal space. She wasn’t invited.

Anger had flashed hot in his mind, but he stilled when she hesitated at the door to his office. Would she go inside? And if so, what would she do? In minutes he had his answer.

When the video popped up on screen, he nearly bolted into the office and dragged her out by the hair. But he could see, even from the camera in the ceiling, how her shock gave way to arousal. How her legs trembled with every smack of the paddle, how she bit her lip to keep from gasping out loud.

But he’d never expected an orgasm. As she slipped her fingers beneath her panties and pleasured herself, he groaned and gripped the table for support.
Christ almighty
.

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