The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (24 page)

But I'm not rearranging my day around Blake. As nice as his place is, as much as I want to wander around Central Park, I'm not staying here. I don't even have a key. I can't even let myself back in. What kind of guy doesn't leave his fiancée a key to his place? A fake fiancée, but still. He's usually so obsessed with keeping up the ruse.

I fix myself cereal and coffee and sit on the balcony. Warmer today, but there's still a chill. I wrap myself in a blanket and doodle the view in every direction. I'll miss this apartment.

I'll miss Blake more.

I try to shut out the thought, but it holds strong in my mind. Maybe it's not the end of the world, me missing him. Employees miss their bosses. Fuck buddies miss each other. It doesn't have to be more than that.

It doesn't have to be anything like love.

Chapter Nineteen

Come eight P.M., Blake texts me.

Blake: Damn. You’re not here. There goes hope you greet me naked.

My breath catches in my throat. That's how he wants me. Sitting around his apartment waiting then ready the second he's home. What a God damn cliché of a wife to be.

Of course, I wouldn't exactly mind greeting him naked. I certainly wouldn't mind him throwing me on the couch and fucking me senseless.

I shake my head. Senseless is right. I'm already losing my damn sense. The guy is driving me in circles. We have a deal. It's business. I need to keep it business.

No more feelings. Period.

Kat: Maybe if you had offered to greet me naked. Now, that I would like to see.

Blake: Come over and your wish will be fulfilled

Kat: Can't. I have to work on my portfolio. Columbia application is due next week.

Blake: Shame.

My fingers hover over the phone screen. It's a half-truth. The application is due next week, but the portfolio isn't due for another month. I can't be around Blake. It makes me feel funny and restless, warm and cold all at the same time.

The test of the week goes the same. He invites me over or offers to meet somewhere to fuck me. Never in such base terms, but his intentions are obvious.

I dodge with excuses of work. Come Friday night at ten, he's not buying it.

Blake: You're not working all weekend, Kat. Don't bullshit me.

Kat: I have plans with Lizzy.

Blake: I'll send a limo. With me in it.

Kat: Tempting, but I really do need to work.

Blake: We have dinner reservations next Saturday. In midtown at 6:00. Bring Lizzy.

Kat: Ever hear of asking?

Blake: Will you allow me to make you come in my limo? I have champagne.

Kat: Do we have to talk?

Blake: Not a word.

Kat: I'll be ready in fifteen.

Blake: I'll be there in twenty. Don't wear anything under your coat.

***

My heart flutters as I step into the limo. Not the best idea to see Blake when he sends me spinning in circles. I'm supposed to gain control of my senses. Every nerve in my body is wide awake, desperate for whatever he's offering me.

It's dark. There's only a hint of light. The one along the sides of the car, and it's a soft white. The divider is already up.

Blake is sitting on the bench. He's in his suit and tie, the picture of confidence.

"Take off your coat," he says.

No need for him to ask twice. I desperately want to be naked in front of him. I desperately want him to touch me.

I slide my coat off my shoulders. I didn't quite obey his instructions. I'm wearing thigh high stockings under my knee-high boots. That short walk from the door to the limo is cold.

And, technically, they aren't under my coat.

The limo pulls away, driving nowhere in particular.

"Lie down on the bench," he says. "On your back."

I do as I'm asked. He leans next to me. Unzips my boots and pulls them off my feet, one at a time. He rolls my stockings to my ankles then off my feet.

His touch is light and soft. A tease. It sends my body into overdrive. It wants all of him, and it's only getting a hint. Not enough. Want rushes to my sex.

Blake pulls a champagne bottle from an ice bucket. He points the bottle towards the other side of the limo and pops it. The cork flies forward, bouncing off the wall. Bubbles spurt from the bottle. Oh my. I'm getting so many ideas.

A drop hits my chest. It's cold and slightly sticky. I arch my back, something to tempt him to lick it off me. That must be what he's doing. It must.

Heat buzzes through me. I need that tongue on my skin. I've been thinking about it all week. I can't wait any longer.

Blake slides out of his suit jacket. "Arms over your head."

I do as he asks.

He holds the bottle two inches above my mouth. Champagne drips fall onto my lips. I lick them off greedily. It tastes damn good. Sweet. Fruity. Perfect.

Blake draws a line of champagne over my body starting at my lips. All the way to my bellybutton then down my right leg. He returns the bottle to the ice bucket.

His tongue slides over my toe, lapping up the champagne patiently. My body aches. It's desperate for more. But he's so damn slow. He licks a line up my calf. My thigh. So damn close.

My belly button. My chest. His lips are an inch from my nipples but he doesn't touch. He plants kisses on my neck. He sucks at my skin to lap up every drop. His fingertips skim my inner thighs. I shake. I want to scream. To grab him and hold him against me. But I keep my hands over my head.

He presses his lips into mine. Sweet, fruity, perfect. He tastes like some mix of champagne and sweat. His tongue slides into my mouth. It's patient. Everything about him is patient.

I kiss him back as hard as I can, but it does nothing to speed him. He pulls back. His eyes make contact with mine.

"Comfortable?" he asks.

"Very."

He undoes his tie and holds it tightly. He works slowly, wrapping my wrists and tying them together. He looks at me as if to give me a chance to use the safe word. No way in hell. I want this. I want to be at his mercy.

"Blake." I breathe. "No waiting. Fuck me."

"You’re not in a position to make demands." He takes off his shirt slowly. Then the belt. His shoes, socks, slacks.

He slides his boxers to his feet.

Heat rushes through my body. We're naked in here together. We're so damn close to exactly where we need to be.

He wraps his hand around the neck of the champagne bottle. His finger slides over the rim.

Then it's his lips.

The teasing motherfucker.

He holds the bottle over my lips. Three drops this time. Damn good. My back arches. It's the only way I can plead. I like being at his mercy, but damn... sometimes he's awfully merciless. I part my lips, another desperate plea. He tilts the bottle slightly. Six drops this time. It tastes so fucking good.

Blake draws another line down my neck, over my breasts, down my stomach. He stops at my belly button. Oh God, I hope that means what I think it means.

His tongue slides over my neck. Flat. Wet. Soft. So damn soft. All the nerves on my skin demand attention. Pleasure whirs around me. God, I want him. I want him licking me, touching me, fucking me.

He licks his way to my tits. His tongue slides over my nipple. Then it's a flick. Pleasure shoots through me. Wow. Wow. Wow. He does it again. Again. Again. He's given my breasts plenty of attention before but never this gently.

Heat spreads through me, pooling in my sex. I'm wet and desperate. He sucks on my nipple. It's so warm. So wet. So perfect. My body aches with need.

He laps up every bit of champagne on my stomach. His tongue slides just below my belly bottom. So damn close. I shake. I shiver. I arch my back in a desperate plea. He licks his way to my other breast and lavishes it with the same kind of attention. Licking, flicking, sucking. Pleasure shoots through me. Everywhere. Every part of me feels so damn good.

"Please," I groan. I part my legs as wide as they'll go.

"Beg me." He sucks on my nipple.

"Fuck me, Blake. Please, fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need you coming inside me."

He lets out a low groan as he sucks on my nipple.

Pleasure floods my body. "Please." I arch my back to push my breast into his mouth. "Pretty please."

His teeth scrape against my nipple. His hands close around my thighs. Yes. Hell yes. Anticipation floods my body. I'm so damn wet.

But he doesn't fuck me. He drags his lips down my stomach, under my belly button. Closer, closer, closer.

His tongue slides over my clit. I pant in a desperate attempt to contain the sensation. This is what I wanted—to be at his mercy. I lean back, relaxing into my restraints as he licks me from top to bottom.

Pleasure pools inside me. His nails are sharp against my thighs. His tongue moves with utterly perfect precision. Every flick of it sends another wave of ecstasy through me.

There. Almost. I press my thighs against his hands so his nails sink into my flesh. The burst of pain is enough to send me into overdrive. An orgasm rises up inside me, tighter and tighter and better and better. Then everything releases in one perfect wave of pleasure.

Blake moves fast. He plants his hands around my shoulders as he brings his body onto mine. The weight of him feels so good against me.

He's warm.

He's hard.

His cock nudges against me. Almost. He holds my hips steady as he enters me.

I gasp. Wow. Wow. Wow. There's only one way to describe it. It feels right, like I'm exactly where I need to be.

I arch my back and lift my hips to push him deeper. Wow. Wow. Wow. Pleasure pools inside me. Every part of me is warm. Every part of me is rushing towards further satisfaction.

Blake fucks me. He moves hard, fast, deep. One hand presses my shoulders into the bench seat. The other holds me steady. I'm immobile. Powerless to do anything but submit.

Perfect.

I surrender completely, losing myself in the movements of his body. Every thrust fills me, brings me closer to release. He's in control and I'm utterly at his mercy, but I know he'll bring me there. I know he'll bring me to a perfect freefall.

Everything is flashes of Blake. His perfect shoulders, his broad chest, his strong hands, his soft lips. He thrusts into me. Harder. Deeper.

So damn close. He feels so good inside me.

An orgasm rises up inside me. No holding back now. I moan. I scream. I thrust my hips to meet him, to push him deeper. Everything inside me is tight, tight, tight. Wound so tight I can't take it. Wound so tight I scream.

Blake sinks his teeth into my neck. The rush of pain sends me over the edge. Straight into freefall.

Pleasure rushes through my body, everywhere, so much all at once. I gasp, arching as I come down.

I feel Blake's hands on my chin. Blink my eyes open. He's staring at me. His expression is heavy with lust but there's something else, too.

He kisses me. Desperate this time. His tongue slides around my mouth. He fucks me, harder, faster, deeper. He slides a hand under my ass, holding me close, pushing himself even deeper. I keep my eyes closed to sink into the sensation.

He groans into my mouth. His nails sink into the flesh of my ass. Almost. There. A few more thrusts. He shakes. He groans louder. Louder. Louder.

There. His cock pulses as he comes inside me, filling me, marking me as his.

He collapses on top of me. Presses his lips around my neck.

I catch my breath as he dresses. He undoes the knots on his tie and rolls down the divider.

"Let's take Kat home." He rubs my wrists gently. Kisses them like he's kissing a boo-boo.

My heartbeat refuses to come back to normal. It's still racing. My body still feels light. It's a strange kind of uneasy.

The limo stops. Must be my building.

Blake slides my coat over my shoulders and does the buttons. He kneels in front of me and rolls my stockings onto my feet one at a time. Then the boots.

He drags his fingertips up my calves and over the insides of my knees. "I'll see you Saturday."

I nod. Saturday. Only a week way. I won't even think about him until Saturday.

It's technically possible.

***

Lizzy is less than enthused about this family dinner. She spends the afternoon in her room making alternating claims of
doing homework
and
picking out my outfit.
I knock at five. It's at least half an hour on the subway to midtown. Blake did insist on a cab but it's not likely to be faster.

My jaw drops as she pulls the door open. Her hair is swept off her face in an elegant updo. Her makeup is subtle and mature. Her black sweater dress is chic and flattering.

She's so grown up.

"You look beautiful," I say.

"Thanks. You too." She reaches for something. Her purse. "Should we go?"

"In a minute." I take a long look at my sister. We've barely talked since the fight at the boutique. All those issues are solved—the dress is being tailored, I signed a prenup that gives me five million dollars if we divorce within five years and ten million if we divorce any time after. Absurd, I know. I'll be as rich as any of those snooty assholes who treated me like I was a pathetic commoner.

God, I better not lose touch like that.

I check my phone for word from Blake. Nothing but a reminder with the address of the restaurant. So much for playing it cool and letting him come to me. He's at a whole other level of cool.

I do one last check of the apartment and throw my sketchbook in my purse. A new habit. In case inspiration strikes. I need the damn ideas for my portfolio. There's still a lot of work to do.

"Kat." Lizzy taps her toe against the hardwood. "You do realize I stopped doing homework when you knocked. If you're going to be a while—"

"I'm ready. It's fine." I hold my keys against my chest.

"Listen, Kat." Lizzy looks at her foot. Presses it into the ground. "Nevermind. We should talk about it later."