The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (16 page)

He shifts off the bed. A drawer opens. Then he's back on the bed, his crotch planted over mine. He feels so good against me. I need my arms around him. I need more of him. All of him.

"Careful." He lifts my head and pulls something over it. A blindfold. He adjusts it until it's covering my eyes. "Comfortable?"

I can't see a thing. It's total darkness. My body goes into overdrive. Every inch of me is buzzing. Touch me, dammit. Fuck me. The wait is killing me.

"Yes," I say.

"Good." He shifts off the bed again.

There are sounds. Footsteps. He's leaving. What the hell? I tug at the restraints but there's no give. I have no choice but to wait for him.

Anticipation rushes through me. My limbs, my chest, my stomach—everything feels light. His footsteps get closer. He's coming back. My sex clenches. He's coming back. He's going to touch me. I need him to touch me.

I can hear Blake undressing. A button shifting out of a hole. A zipper undoing. Pants dropping to the floor. He's slow. It feels like forever passes.

Tension builds inside me. It's like I'm climbing up a roller coaster, desperately anticipating the release of the drop.

He shifts onto the bed. Parts of his body press against mine. An arm, a hand, his chest. His bare skin sends a shiver down my spine. We're close now.

A cap is undone, and I instantly smell chocolate. My thighs shake. That must be...

He squeezes the bottle. His fingers slide over my lips. Chocolate sauce. Dark and sweet and just a little bit sticky. The good stuff. I lick it off my lips, savoring the feel of it on my tongue. He squeezes the bottle again then slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck hard, until I've consumed every drop.

Something cold hits my neck. The chocolate sauce. Blake draws a line over my collarbone, my breasts, down my stomach. I arch my back, buck my hips. It's the only movement I've got.

He straddles me. Fabric presses against my sex. Dammit. His boxers are in the way. I shift to press my sex against his cock. He feels so good, so close, even with the fabric between us.

Hands press down on my hips. "Not yet."

My breath hitches. My body is on fire. Every inch of me burns with a desperate desire to be touched. Everything is dark, but I can hear Blake breathing. I can feel his fingers sliding up my sides and over my shoulders. He leans closer. His lips make contact with my skin.

He licks the chocolate sauce off my neck. His tongue is wet and soft, but he moves with hard strokes.

Want pools between my legs. He moves down my body, licking every drop of syrup. My collarbone. My chest. His tongue slides over my skin. Pangs of desire rush though me. He stops at my nipples to suck hard. The pressure is intense, so much it hurts, but that’s its own kind of good.

My back relaxes. I sink into the bed under his weight. I soak in the feeling of his tongue.

He traces his steps back up my neck like he's making sure to get every drop.

His lips press into mine. Soft for a moment then hard. He claims me with his tongue. He scrapes his teeth against my lips. Drags his nails over my arms. He tastes like chocolate and sugar and sweat. He tastes fucking good.

I gasp as Blake releases the kiss. I arch my back like I'm begging him to take me to the edge, but that does nothing to speed him. His tongue flicks the space between my breasts. He licks his way down my stomach, lapping up every bit of syrup. Flutters build inside me. He's at my belly button. Then below it.

So damn close.

He pulls away and everything in my body cries out. Anything but that. Anything but stopping. I bite my lip in an attempt to curb the sensation. It only makes me more desperate for his mouth.

He sucks on the skin of my inner thigh. My sex aches with want. He moves to my knee, switches to the other leg, moves back up my thigh.

His teeth scrape against my skin.

So damn close.

Too damn close.

I pant. I try to move, but all I can do is shift my hips an inch. I'm at his mercy. I'm not coming until he's ready.

My heart thuds. The only thing I can hear. Freefall can't come soon enough. His mouth is so warm so soft on my thighs. I shake. I shudder. I groan. Now. Now. Now.

His tongue slides over my outer lips. Wow. So warm. So wet. So amazing. He sucks on my other lip, scraping his teeth against it gently. My sex clenches. There's already so much tension.

He moves slowly. He sucks on me, harder and harder. Pain shoots through me. I scream out, and he moves softer. He does the same with the other side. So warm. So wet. So amazing. His tongue slides over me, making it's way to my clit. Almost. So damn close.

Wow. Wow. Wow. Pleasure shoots through me as his tongue flicks against me. There's no way to move. Nothing I can do to contain the sensation. It's so much, so strong. I groan. I scream.

He licks me with a steady rhythm. It's perfect. Exactly what I need. Tension builds inside me. Faster and harder and deeper. An orgasm rises up inside me. Almost. So damn close.

He pulls back. I gasp. I tug at the restraints of my wrists and ankles. He can't stop now. I'm almost there.

The tension in me eases. I feel his teeth on my inner thigh. He bites hard, sending a wave of pain through me. It draws all my attention. Stirs everything up inside me. I let out a moan. I need him. I need everything he'll give me.

He bites me again and again and again. Pain shoots through me. I arch my back.

"Blake..."

"Louder."

I scream it. "Blake. Please... Blake. I need to come. Please."

He flicks his tongue against me. Yes. Hell yes. Enough waiting. He licks me with a constant rhythm.

Pleasure builds inside me. I go up, up, up, as high as I can go. An orgasm rushes through me, sending me straight into freefall. Nothing to do but feel it. My sex clenches. Pleasure radiates through my belly and thighs. He's so warm. So wet.

"Blake," I groan.

I come down, panting in a desperate bid to catch my breath. He shifts. Some movement of fabric. Those stupid boxers getting out of the way.

His hands press into my shoulders. His knees nudge my thighs, pressing them a little further apart. I can feel his warmth against my sex. He's inches away.

So damn close.

I arch my back, trying to meet him, to feel his cock against me. But I'm not close enough. He digs into my skin, shifting his weight into my hips.

Almost.

The tip slides over my clit. He enters me slowly. Pleasure shoots through my limbs. I'm back on that ride, ready to climb all the way to the top. He's taking me there. He's taking me to another freefall.

No slow this time. He thrusts into me fast and hard. His breath catches. He groans as he sinks into me. His body is pressed against mine. It's warm and hard and heavy. My nipples scrape against his chest. He nips at the skin on my neck. Groans right into my ear.

He thrusts into me. Hard. Deep. I can't move. I can't do anything but feel him inside me. Pleasure grows quickly. Wow. Wow. Wow. Almost there again.

He bites me harder. The burst of pain sends me over the edge. Right into freefall again. I come in spasms, screaming his name over and over.

No time to come down. He moves faster. Harder. Deeper. I gasp at a rush of pain. He's not letting up.

He fucks me, nails on my shoulders, teeth on my neck. A groan overtakes him. Harder. Harder. Harder. His nails sink into my skin. His body shakes.

"Kat," he groans.

One more thrust, and an orgasm overtakes him. He comes inside me. Thrusts into me until he's completely finished.

He collapses next to me. Kisses my neck. A few shifts of his weight on the bed and he's taking off my restraints. The ankles first, then the wrists. I curl my body to wrap it around his.

Blake pulls off my blindfold. I blink my eyes open and stare into his.

"Okay?" he asks.

I nod. Much better than okay. Amazing.

He holds me until my heart slows and my breath returns.

Chapter Thirteen

We take a long shower together. Blake rubs soap over every inch of my skin and rinses me off carefully. I return the favor. It's the first time I've really gotten to touch him. His body is all hard muscles and perfect lines. He really is gorgeous. Perfect, even.

After, he helps me into a soft, terry cloth robe. It feels lush and luxurious. His whole apartment is lush and luxurious.

We move to the kitchen. Blake pours two glasses of water and motions for me to drink. A hint of irritation flares in my chest. I'm not a child. I don't need him taking care of me.

His eyes catch mine. His stare demands an answer. I turn aside, pulling my robe tighter. I'm not really in the mood to argue. It's late.

But I can feel his eyes on me. My cheeks flush. "What?"

"You tell me." His voice is steady and aloof.

"I appreciate gestures, but I don't need to be told when to drink or eat or sleep or shower. I'm not into that."

"Noted."

I relax. No arguments, I guess.

"You hungry?"

"Yes." I finish my water and pour another glass. I'm almost positive his expression is smug, but it's hard to tell with Blake.

He fixes a plate of fruit, cheese, and chocolate. My breath hitches as he slides a square between his lips. I turn to the windows and take in the view. Lucky bastard. This apartment is the stuff dreams are made of.

"How many hours a week do you work?" I ask.

"A lot."

"If you had to guess."

"Eighty. A hundred maybe."

Damn. That doesn't seem possible. I've worked hard the last three years, but nowhere near a hundred hours a week. That wouldn't leave a moment to spend with my sister.

"Why make all this money if you've got no time to enjoy it?"

"I like work," he says.

"Are you sure? Maybe you're afraid of being away from work." I turn back to Blake and make eye contact. A shiver runs through me. Damn intense stare. I manage to hold firm. "Every time I see you, you're in control. Do you ever let go?"

"Let go of what?"

"Being in charge." I move towards him. Take a berry from his plate. "It must be exhausting."

He shakes his head.

"You need it, don't you?"

"Spare me the pop psychology."

"Is that why you're doing all this for your mom? Can't control that she's dying but at least you can control what she thinks of you?"

His expression hardens. "You don't know what you're talking about." He turns away, his shoulders slumping.

"I don't mean that you don't care. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love."

He looks to the floor. "Looking for motivation is a waste of time. This is what I want."

"But what if your mother would prefer the truth?"

Blake raises his voice. "This is what I want. If that's a problem, I need to know."

My temper flares. "Don't raise your fucking voice at me. I'm not a child, and I won't be scolded."

His brow furrows. He slides the plate over the counter top. Digs his hands into the marble. "Fine. You're an adult. You agreed to this. That's all I need to know."

"Blake. You can talk to me. You don't have to shut down like this."

"There's nothing to discuss." He closes off, crossing his arms over his chest, turning as far away from me as he can.

The man is in a towel, but the only thing I want to see is his eyes. There's hurt behind his eyes. Of course there's hurt behind his eyes. His mother is dying. His sister is a mess. His father was horrible somehow.

My stomach flip-flops. It shouldn't care what Blake is thinking or feeling. He's a difficult boss. That's it.

But I want to hug him. I want to comfort him. No one else is going to. Maybe no one ever has.

"Blake. Your father. You said he hit you."

His hand slams against the marble. "I'm not discussing that."

I shrink back. "Okay."

"There's a lot to do for the wedding. I'll take care of most of it. All you need to do is show up when I tell you to."

I take a few steps towards him. "I can do more. I want to."

I press my hand against his back. He shivers, but he keeps his body away from mine. I'm locked out. Not likely to get a key anytime soon.

His voice steadies. "What would you like to do?"

"The park. I want to do it at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens if we can."

"I'll make it happen."

"What if it's booked?"

He shrugs, pushing me away. "I'll pull some strings." He turns and his eyes find mine. "Anything else?"

"I'll think about it."

He nods to the plate. "Eat something."

"Later."

Blake steps aside. "It's late already."

"I want to stay over." My cheeks flush. I can hardly believe I invited myself to sleep over. He's the most independent, aloof guy I've ever met, and I invited myself into his space. Bad idea.

I try to study his reaction, but his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. He looks so calm. It shouldn't be possible to look so calm.

"There are clothes in the spare room." He points to the room where we had sex.

"The sex room?"

That elicits a tiny grin. "Yes. I have to get back to work."

"It's late."

"I have some work left, and I'm leaving early tomorrow." He moves towards the back of the apartment. His bedroom. "Help yourself to anything." He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him.

I shake my arms. Release the tension. Release, dammit. Blake's issues are not my concern. We're not
really
getting married. I won't have to live with his moods and his emotional distance. I only have to put up with him another few months.

He emerges from his bedroom in jeans and a t-shirt. His eyes find mine. "Yes?"

"Are we going on a honeymoon after the wedding?"

"Of course."

"Where?"

"Doesn't matter. We'll be spending it in the hotel." He opens his office door. "But you're welcome to pick."

"Oh."

"You don't want to spend a week coming?"

"No, I just. Forget it. I'm tired." I pull the robe tighter. It's not like I expected him to act all romantic about our fake honeymoon, but he's so apathetic. He could at least pretend.