The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (7 page)

I slide my tongue into his mouth. He kisses back, harder. His hands slide down my chest. He circles my nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Then it's down, all the way to my belly button.

He kisses my neck. My chest. My stomach. Right below my bellybutton. My sex clenches. His mouth is so close.

Blake grabs onto my thighs and shoves them apart. My knees smack against the bed. My eyelids get heavy. I suck in a deep inhale. I'm sure I'm blushing. It's hard not to feel self-conscious. I've never had anyone that close.

"You smell fucking good," he says.

Something in me relaxes. I arch into him as much as I can.

Blake holds my thighs against the bed. I shift my legs just to see what he'll do. He digs his nails into my skin until I cry out. That pain feels good, too.

No waiting. He runs his tongue over my lips. His mouth closes on my left side and he sucks hard. Pleasure overwhelms me. It's so much, so unlike anything else I've ever felt. He's warm, soft, and wet all at once.

He licks me from top to bottom. Every movement of his tongue feels damn good. I try to contain the sensation by shifting, but I've got nowhere to go. I buck my hips. He holds me tighter.

The only thing I can do is moan.

He draws all sorts of delicious shapes over me. A circle, a triangle, a star, a heart even. I don't bother to complain that it's romantic. His mouth is some kind of marvel. I don't bother wondering how he learned this. I don't care.

Pleasure pools inside me. It's so good, everywhere, and I'm stuck here. I'm utterly at his mercy. He digs his nails into my thighs, and a burst of pain washes over me. It's sharp and real. I moan out some utterly incomprehensible collection of syllables.

He focuses his attention on my clit. It's soft, slow strokes at first. They're perfect and amazing. My entire body is in overdrive. It's so much feeling, and there's nowhere for it to go. I groan, louder and louder and louder.

He flicks his tongue against me, hard and fast. A wave of pleasure jolts through me, so strong it hurts. I gasp. I can take it.

He does it again. I try to free my legs so I can squeeze them around him, affect him some way too. But he only holds me tighter. His nails dig into my skin again, like he's warning me he'll tie my legs, too.

He licks me. Slow. Then faster. Harder. It's jolt of pleasure after jolt of pleasure. With no way to contain the sensation, I feel everything. I shift my hands until the rope tugs at my wrists.

It's so strange. So wonderful. Still so warm, so soft, so wet. Blake moves faster, until every jolt blurs together, and all I can feel is an intense rush of pleasure. It's so tight. With my hands bound and my legs pinned, I can't do anything to contain the sensation.

An orgasm builds up inside of me. It's tight, tight, tight, and then everything releases in a perfect wave. I catch my breath for an instant then Blake's mouth is on me again. He licks me with long, fast strokes. Somehow, it's more of everything. More intense, more pleasure, more I can't contain.

I moan. "Blake." Then words completely flee my brain. I groan. It's the only thing I can manage. The tension builds inside me until it's so tight I think I'll snap. But he keeps going. Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

This orgasm comes fast. All the pressure inside me releases in a deep cascade of pleasure. I feel it everywhere.

My legs go slack. I relax into the bed, reveling in the after shakes. Blake releases me for a moment. His eyes find mine. This expression I understand. He wants his release. He wants me.

He unwraps the condom and rolls it on. He arranges my legs, flat against the bed again. Then he brings the weight of his body against mine. He feels so good already—warm and hard and distinctly male.

He spreads my legs wider. The tip of his cock strains against me. There's a sharp tugging sensation from the rubber of the condom. It's a quick moment and it's gone, replaced by the feeling of him inside me.

Wow. Wow. Wow. That's the only word I have. He shifts into me slowly. It's not like people warned me. There's a slight discomfort, but it doesn't really hurt.

Blake plants his hands outside my shoulders. He pushes into me, going deeper. Wow. Wow. Wow. Any remnants of pain are replaced by the sensation of being full. Something instinctual takes over inside me. I arch my hips. I go to bring my arms around him, and my wrists catch on the restraints. I'm not in control. Blake is.

He grunts. His lips press against my neck. Then it's teeth. He bites me hard enough that pain shoots to my sex. It heightens the feeling of him inside me. It heightens the pleasure spreading to my fingertips.

He moves faster. Harder. It hurts for a minute then it feels so damn good. I wrap my legs around him and arch to meet his movements. Wow. Wow. Wow. This is why people write pop songs. This is why people go to war. This sex thing is amazing.

He groans. "Mhmm. Kat."

His nails scape against the outside of my thighs. Another perfect burst of pain. I close my eyes and surrender completely to the sensation. He thrusts into me. He sinks his teeth into my neck. He scrapes his nails against my skin. Everything mixes together—the pressure, the pleasure, the pain. It's amazing. It's perfect.

His breath speeds. He bites me harder. His back shakes. I open my eyes to look at him. There's something about his expression. It's so heavy and so desperate. He's about to come. That's what it looks like.

He's about to come, because of me. Because he wants me. Because he needs me.

The thought of it makes my sex clench. I let out a loud moan. It spurs him on, and he moves faster. Harder. All the pressure inside me winds up again. Tight, tight, tight. I take one more look at Blake. I soak in the weight of his body, the slight shaking of his arms against my shoulders.

All that pressure inside me unwinds. Wow. Wow. Wow. An orgasm spreads through my body. I relax into the bed, again, utterly unable to do anything except feel.

It's enough to push Blake over the edge. He groans. "Mhmm. Kat." His nails sink into my sink. He moves faster, faster, faster.

Something in him changes as he comes. His expression softens. His muscles tense as he tears at the sheets.

Blake collapses next to me. He rolls off the bed to discard the condom. That same softness is in his eyes. It's the closest thing I've seen to vulnerability.

He looks me over, his gaze hardening quickly. "Are you okay?"

I nod.

He reaches up and unties me. He looks my wrists over, pressing his fingertips against them gently. He stretches my wrists, fingers, elbows.

He wraps his arms around me. Wow. A completely different sensation, but it's equally amazing. I close my eyes and relax into it. Nice. This is really nice. He press his lips into mine. He tastes like me. That's strange, too, but I don't feel shy over it.

Something shifts. Blake climbs off the bed. His expression goes back to impenetrable. "You can stay as long as you want."

"Thanks." He takes a step towards the door. "Make yourself comfortable. Jordan will take you home whenever you're ready. If there's an emergency, I'll be in my office."

I nod like it's normal that he's fleeing the scene. "Sure."

"I sent your things home with him. I'll email you about your appointments. The doctor and your hair and makeup for the gala Thursday."

"Okay." Cause apparently I can't handle my appointments or my life.

"Goodnight." He steps out of the room and closes the door.

I look around the room. There's not much besides this bed and a stack of books. The attached bathroom is gorgeous, all stainless steel, Italian marble, and an enormous tub with jets and imported bubble bath.

I soak for a long time. The thing is big enough to swim in, but there's still something missing. Everything is a lie. Everything but sex, and that's just sex. No getting attached to Blake, no matter what.

My clothes are folded on the couch. Not the pink chiffon dress—the jeans and t-shirt I wore this morning. The entire apartment is quiet and dark except for a room in the far corner. Yellow light streams out through the door. Blake's office, no doubt. I'm no fool. I understand the arrangement.

The sex part is done, but the guy isn't rude. He's not about to kick me on my ass. This apartment is beautiful, but there's something very cold and lonely about it. Lizzy is sleeping at a friend's place. There's nothing waiting for me at home.

I make myself comfortable on the couch. Three hundred channels and none of them are as interesting as wondering what the hell Blake is doing in his office, all by himself, at two in the morning.

Chapter Six

Blake fingers graze my back, pressing the silk of my dress against my skin.

His hand rests on the curve of my waist. It's equal parts possessive and sweet. Of course, the latter is a lie.

He turns to me ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bright. He's nailing that gaga in love look.

Lie, lie, lie. It's a lie. I press my French-manicured nail into the pad of my thumb to remind myself. He doesn't love me. I don't love him. We're only pretending.

A man in a navy suit approaches. He's in his twenties. Blake offers his hand, but the guy shakes his head and pulls Blake into a hug.

The man turns to me. "You must be the lovely Kat I've heard so much about?"

My cheeks flush. Blake warned me this company party would be long, boring, and filled with assholes. He didn't warn me that he was talking about me. "Kat Wilder. Nice to meet you."

I offer my best coquettish grin. Of course Blake mentioned me. People talk about their girlfriends. And that's what I am—his pretend girlfriend.

"Declan Jones," he shakes my hand. "You're much prettier than Blake said."

Big smile, little laugh. "Thank you. I've heard so much about you." Like the one time Blake mentioned his college friend who runs a start-up in San Francisco.

"And where is your date?" Blake asks.

"I'm here on business, my friend. No dates. But I'm glad you volunteered to entertain me." Declan smiles. "Things didn't work out well with Grace. Different lifestyles."

"That means she wasn't okay with him seeing other women." Blake raises an eyebrow as if to challenge his friend.

Declan shrugs with false modesty. So the guy is a bit of a player. No surprise. All that matters is that he's buying into this whole ruse. I have to admit, it's convincing. Blake is the quiet, protective boyfriend, and I'm the pretty—with the help of a hair, makeup, and styling team—young thing he needs around constantly.

There are another dozen introductions just like that one. I laugh. I smile. I swat men away saying things like
oh, you.
Blake's grip around my waist gets a little tighter with every compliment. Almost like he really is jealous.

A woman a few years older than I am storms up to us. "Blake."

He remains steel. "This is my sister, Fiona."

Fiona nods hello. "Nice to meet you. Kat, right?"

I nod. "I'm Blake's girlfriend."

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. She shakes the expression off. "Mom wants to meet your
girlfriend.
She said something about how she hopes you finally care about more than getting between a woman's legs."

I am under strict instructions to hold my tongue, but the anger coursing through me is so tempting. Big smile. I can play this my way. "It's funny. Our relationship started out purely sexual. But Blake is so sweet." I turn to him with my best gaga eyes. "How could I not fall in love?"

He runs his fingertips over my chin, tilting me towards him. He leans closer, closer, closer. Our lips press together.

That whole thing about butterflies in your stomach—it's fact. My entire body is light. I'm faint. Blood
is
rushing down. That must be it. A kiss for show is still damn hot. It's not like my body knows it's a lie.

I grab at his shoulders and kiss back harder. Pretend or not, his lips are perfect against mine.

Fiona scoffs. "Get a room."

Blake pulls back. He throws a
fuck you
glance at his sister. "Where's Trey?"

She plays with her wedding ring. "A conference."

There's a sadness in her expression, like even she doesn't believe her story.

"That's a shame," Blake says. It sounds sincere.

"Mom is tired today. Put in some face time before your little speech, okay?" She asks.

"It's under control."

"I bet." She looks at me like I'm a bimbo. "Where did you two meet?"

"It was a coincidence," I say. "I bumped into him on my way out of an interview."

"Oh? You work. That must be a refreshing change, Blake," Fiona says.

Irritation flares in his expression. There's a tiny hint in his eyes. Otherwise, he's a wall of stone.

"What do you do?" Fiona asks.

"That's not your concern," Blake says.

"We're having a conversation," Fiona says.

"I'm a waitress," I say.

Fiona fights something—judgment or solidarity or something else entirely. She looks at her phone and frowns. "It was great to meet you but I need to make a call."

She makes eye contact with Blake. Something passes between them, a mystery to everyone else. I can do that kind of thing with Lizzy. It's a kind of sibling magic.

Fiona turns and leaves with a loud huff.

My heart races. Slow inhale. Can't hold my breath any longer. I unfurl my clenched fists and lock fingers with Blake. I can deal with rejection. I'm not good enough for some snooty asshole, fine, but that's his sister. She has some nerve treating him like that.

Blake is stone. He studies my expression. "You okay?"

I nod. I will be. I just need a minute. Something to wash the taste of that encounter from my mouth. I grab a champagne flute from a passing waiter. Funny, I don't think I've ever had champagne. It's amazing. Sweet and bubbly with a faint flavor of apples.

I take another sip.

Blake grabs my wrist. "Slow down."

He presses his palm against my back. He leads me through the crowd. Everyone waves or nods. Most take a long look at me. Judgment flares in a dozen sets of eyes—people deciding if I'm good enough for Blake, if I'm a real girlfriend or a piece of arm candy.