The Billionaire's Wife (Part One) (4 page)

I paid the fare and strutted through the doors of Whitmore and Creighton. I smiled to myself at the memory of teetering on my heels. Those stupid shoes put me on a collision course with destiny.

The guard, Frank Miller, perked when he saw me. His kind gray eyes mirrored the smile on his face. "Good evening, Mrs. Whitmore."

Even though I knew he had no idea what was under my coat or what I had planned, I still bit my lip. Not even the slice of discomfort could ward off the blush heating my cheeks. "Hi Frank. How are you?"

"Can't complain." He nodded his head. "Don't work too hard."

I swallowed the amusement that rose in my throat, hustling toward the elevator. It seemed to move especially slow, climbing every step to the top floor. By the time it dinged and I was at my destination, I was practically hyperventilating. I moved down the corridor to Jacob’s office, the sound of light classical music luring me to him. Classical music meant he needed some zen or he'd start busting heads.

I rapped on the door and stepped inside, not waiting for him to grant me entry. His gaze lifted from his computer and captured me. The shock in his eyes warmed as he took me in. A smile teased his lips as the pieces clicked into place and he recognized the coat.

I loosened the knot, my lips slightly parted as I shed the layer and showed him my intentions.

"Surprise."

He rose from his chair, wetting his lips as he circled to the front of his desk. He leaned back, still the epitome of sophistication and power, even though his tie hung loosely and his eyes were doing bad things to my body.

"You look delicious." His deep voice savored every word and I felt my wetness soaking through my panties.

I managed to speak, my voice rough and husky. "Thank you."

He stroked his fingers through his dark hair. Ruffling it in a way that made him look both playful and dangerous. "I remember the first time you put on that jacket. You were so nervous, so self conscious about your body. You used the jacket as a shield. Something to hide your perceived imperfections." He unbuttoned his cuffs and I watched his fingers, already feeling them deep inside me. "What is the jacket to you now?"

His question caught me off guard and my lips worked but nothing intelligible came out.

"What were you thinking when you decided to put it on?" he pressed. "You could have worn a dress. A t-shirt and jeans. There's a reason you chose to put on that trench coat."

I dug my fingertips into my thigh to keep from shaking. To get a handle on my desire long enough for my brain to function so I could do more than stutter. I looked inward for the answer.

I clasped my hands together, the shake barely more than a tremor when I met his steely blue gaze. The answer was in the fact that I didn't even stop to look in a mirror. Or fuss over my body, making myself a nervous wreck. I was a wife, doing something for her husband...and nothing else mattered.

"The jacket represents metamorphosis." I moved toward him, one step at a time. The predator with her prey in her sights. "I'm not the doe eyed innocent anymore. You're my Dom, but that doesn't mean that I can't take the reins every now and then." I stopped in front of him, the space between us hot with sexual tension. I smiled mischievously as I roped my arms around my back and unhooked my bra, letting it drop to the floor. "I can take what I want."

He rounded the contours of my breasts with his eyes and my nipples swelled like he'd already claimed them. I could feel him pinching them tight until I could take no more...and would die if he stopped.

"And what do you want?" One look and I saw that his fly was bulging with what he wanted. Our wants, our needs were deliciously aligned.

"Me?" I erased the remaining distance, so close to him that I could feel every tremor of his body. Jacob was struggling to maintain his composure. If this was what taking control was like, no wonder he loved it. I felt sexy, powerful...and it was just the beginning. "I want to make you forget that anything else exists in this world except my mouth."

I sank to my knees, hands reaching for his belt. His eyes were flashing—I was being bold—but they didn't flash with condemnation. He was thrilled, riveted; like he was watching me change before him.

I vibrated from the inside out when he let out a deep, guttural moan as I stroked him, the fabric barely able to contain his arousal. I unzipped his fly and reached in, my hand wrapping around his bulging shaft.

I drew closer. Mouth close enough to touch. Tongue close enough to lick. But I just stared up at him in awe. My husband, my everything, my Dom...a slave to my touch.

I leaned in and I swore he did too. My tongue darted out and tasted the warmth of his skin, tingling as I made a line from base to tip. I watched him, enamored as my tongue swirled around the head, savoring the salty sweetness like it was honey.

Then I engulfed him, taking him into my mouth until I felt him hit my throat. I breathed through the stars, relaxing as I took him deeper. His second moan was feral as he rocked his hips and tears sprang to my eyes. I built a steady rhythm and he let me control the beat. His fingers weaved through my hair. Tugging. Holding onto me for dear life. All I could taste was Jacob. All I could feel was Jacob.

I took a breath, smiling up at him with my bruised lips. "I want you to-"

He put a single finger across my lips, then trailed the finger down until he landed on my breast. He gripped the nipple tight, his eyes smoldering. "That was incredible, little sub." His grip intensified as he gestured for me to stand up, never letting go of my nipple. I gasped when he took the other, squeezing it just as savagely.

His smile made my heart stop and my pussy clench with excitement.

"But what you want is irrelevant. It’s my turn now."

****

T
he tables had turned. Five seconds ago, Jacob was practically on his knees; his moans begging me not to stop. Now I was the one moaning, my nipples locked in his brutal touch, dangerously close to saying the word that would end it all. He relaxed his grip slightly, his voice a gentle caress.

"Do you want to proceed?"

The throb in my nipples spread out over me, a whisper that built in pitch until my body screamed for more. My skin was goose flesh, the warmth in my stomach a flurry of butterflies that made me shake. My core pulsed in time with my racing heart. There was only one option. One word that fell from my lips.

"Green."

He released my nipples, but his fingers were still beautiful torture devices. He stroked downward, his touch so gentle as he slid down my abdomen.

"You want me to touch you, don't you?"

My nostrils flared uncontrollably as I nodded. "Yes sir.
Please
."

A smile lifted one side of his mouth when I gasped as he dropped all pretenses and cupped my pussy with his hand. His ring finger rested on my slit.

"As incredible as your body is and how much pleasure you give me, your little stunt can't go unpunished." He slipped inside me, a finger on my swollen bundle of nerves, then he denied me. "I'll be lenient on you. In fact, I'll let you pick your punishment."

"How generous," I muttered, before I caught myself and dropped my gaze. I brought my eyes back up to meet his, biting my lip. “Sorry.”

His eyes narrowed, but amusement burned like fire as he outlined my cheek with his finger, then dusted my hair over my shoulders. "I could just bend you over the desk and spank you if that's what you prefer."

"No sir," I blurted. Practically shouted. I winced and lowered my volume several notches. "I'll pick my punishment." Heat dominated my cheeks, my body as he circled me slowly. Waiting.

Picking my punishment wasn't nearly as kind as you'd think. It was like picking my poison. Whatever I chose would be just as painful as it was pleasurable. Spanking. Teasing.

I gasped. Teasing.

I licked my lips and gave him my answer. "I want to be teased. To be so close to release. So out of control that I can't stand it—then you pull me back. Build me up, let me taste your bliss, then take it away. Until you're ready for me to climax," I added, trying to keep my voice level and unassuming. I didn't want him to see the real punishment that I'd just handed him on a silver plate.

But Jacob's low chuckle saw right through that. "If I believe you're deserving of a climax that is."

Crap.

I knew he meant it playfully, but the thoughts I kept at bay stormed back to the surface. The memory of being so tangled up in him, so free, then shot right out of the sky, left wondering if I did something wrong.

Stop it
, I ordered myself, locking my hands behind my back.
Benefit of the doubt, remember?
So I stood there, finding his eye when he circled back around. Aching for his touch. Wishing that I had asked him for a spanking, because the slices of pain were always met with overwhelming pleasure. And then he had to feel what he did to me with his fingers. With his cock.

I slouched, the minutes ticking by, and he still hadn't touched me. And then I realized that I wasn't waiting for the starting bell to ring. It rang the moment he started circling me. He was teasing me every time our eyes met; every time he denied me his touch.

When his fingers brushed my lower back I trembled, a moan trapped behind my clenched teeth. When he rounded back to the front, his fingers strummed my nipples. The echo of his pinch turned the gentlest of touches into a blow that ripped a moan from my throat, my core begging for more. Already begging for release that he clearly had no intention of giving me anytime soon.

I pouted and he paused, his lips fluttering over mine. Letting me taste the salt of his skin for a heartbeat. Reminding me to breathe—and that he wanted me just as badly.

His lips wandered over my jaw, then hovered at my ear. "Spread your legs."

I stepped out, wide, hyper aware of the way my juices clung to me. He inhaled the fragrance of my arousal like it was the sweetest of perfumes. He cupped my sex again, this time spreading my lips and sliding his fingers into my warmth. I groaned, throwing my head back as he pumped in and out of me, his eyes filled with lust, lips parted like he was breathing in my moans. Once my entire body began to shake, he pulled from me, circling around behind me.

It was probably a good thing too because he missed my frown.

I wanted more, damn it. I wanted to throw myself to the floor and kick and scream until he let me come, and I wanted more of the teasing at the same time. This D/s dynamic fulfilled the void in me that craved domination. It loved the challenge in giving my body and my pleasure over to Jacob.

His arms encircled me, holding me close. So close that there was no question that he was dying to have me too. So close that our heartbeats synced and our chests rose and fell in sync.

"Punishing you is punishing me," he said thickly. His fingers sank back inside me. He knew just where to push. Just where to linger. How deep to go and twitch to make me lose my mind.

"Jacob," I whimpered, wanting more. Needing it.

"Tell me to fuck you," he said hoarsely. He pumped in and out of me, my whole body a sea of raw nerve endings that felt every last stroke.

"Fuck me, Jacob."

He whisked me to the sitting area, and I smiled when I realized we were coming full circle. He pulled off his shirt and discarded his pants, dropping them beside the chaise. The chaise he'd ordered me to lounge on when he first hired me. When he’d commanded that I relax and touch myself for him.

He had a different request now. "On your hands and knees. Ass towards me."

I obeyed his command, bursting with excitement. His hand rounded the curve of my bottom and I braced myself to be spanked, but the strike didn't come. His other hand gripped my other hip and he teased me with his cock. He drew it up and down my slit, letting me feel just how close he was. Reminding me that he was the gatekeeper of my ecstasy.

And then he took me.

His first stroke was swift, filling me up. Stretching me around the thick bulge of him. He drew out of me, then punched back inside. Feeling me. Completing me. Tearing all the air from my lungs.

I spread wider, giving him all of me. I rocked back to meet his thrusts. He gripped my hips as he took us closer to bliss. Every part of me felt alive, breathing it in, consumed by the ecstasy that only Jacob could give me.

I reached the edge, my climax dangerously close to rebellion. Control was quickly becoming impossible. I couldn't hold it back much longer.

"Jacob," I moaned. Begged. "Please let me come."

"Come for me baby," he said huskily. "I want to feel you. Only you."

I let go and my whole world was this feeling. I was free falling into my climax, letting it consume me as my body squeezed him. He went rigid, then I felt the warmth of him flowing inside me. I was finally whole again.

Still catching my breath, I dropped to the chaise. I felt so open. So exposed to him that I took it a step further. After all, I could always blame the question on post-sex delirium.

"I overheard your conversation with your mom the other day." I picked at my nails, trying to act nonchalant. "Is everything alright?"

He didn't answer for a long, painful moment. I pulled my attention from pretending that it wasn't a big deal, ready to face him and be held accountable for kinda sorta snooping. I didn't even care, I just wanted to get it all out in the open.

But his back was to me, the muscular expanse tight and unyielding.

"Jacob? If there's something going on-"

He turned to me, his face stony and unreadable. "There's nothing going on," he said gruffly, buttoning his shirt. His pants were next. When he faced me, I realized we really were doing some sort of history lesson. All the greatest hits: the trench coat, the chaise, and the impenetrable wall Jacob used to keep up to keep me out.

His blue eyes were like ice as he yanked and tugged his slender black tie into place. When he spoke I honestly expected him to tell me that it was none of my business. Chew me out for sneaking around and keeping this to myself for days. Instead, he ticked the box that read 'none of the above'.