Bound To Him: Three Dates with a Billionaire (6 page)

He’d mentioned the movie he’d died in. “I guess if I asked you about the next movie in the franchise, you couldn’t tell me.”

“I’m bound by contract not to.” He pulled off the shirt and let it lie where it fell. I was past caring. My neatness was from necessity, since I was sharing an apartment the size of a shoebox with another woman. Here, I could dump every stitch I owned on the floor and it wouldn’t make any difference. If it meant he’d undress faster, than I was all for it.

Leaning forward, he pressed against the mattress. My body rolled toward him, halted by the cuffs. The chains jingled. If he just stretched a little more...

He smelled wonderful. Not just that unique cologne that had alerted me to his presence earlier, but male musk. Hard to describe, he just smelled like a man. My mouth watered and I swallowed. “Want me, Cassie?” he asked.

“Yes. Oh yes, I do.”

“We’ll see. If you’re good.”

I choked when he straightened without touching me. “Is that what you’re into? Torturing poor defenseless women?”

“Maybe.” At last he unfastened the buckle of the thin belt on his pants. Swift movements that showed off the muscles in his lower arms, and then his shoulders as he pulled the belt undone. He went to the button at the top, and slid his finger inside. “You want this?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

I almost spat, “Yes!”

A low laugh echoed around the room and it wasn’t mine. He undid the zipper on his pants and slid them down, stepping out of them without a backward glance. He had black boxers on underneath. Nothing could have showcased his erection better. It strained so hard against the fabric I could see the ridge under the head. I swallowed. It was quite the size. Bigger than anything I’d had before, that was for sure.

He stepped forward and at last climbed on to the bed. He settled between my spread legs, and leaned back, as he had downstairs, his blatant gaze settling on my sex. “Pretty. So pink and wet. I wonder what you taste like?”

Before I could guess what he was doing, he bent and licked me. His tongue probed into my most secret places. My instant reaction was to cry out. My body arched hard. He put one hand on my stomach and pushed me back down, resting his chin on my mound. “Delicious,” he said.

Doing it — fucking — so deliberately was new to me. I’d never been so needy, and so aware of myself. My body, my needs. It was screaming for attention. His close study and my inability to hide any part of myself was killing me.

“I might take another taste, or I might play with these.” Reaching up, he tweaked my nipples, the shot of pain going straight to my center. He smiled when I cried out. “You can feel your own arousal, can’t you? Everything’s building to the end. But you won’t get there for some time.”

“It’s torture,” I groaned.

“No it’s not. I’ll show you torture.”

He straightened, enough to lick me again. But this time he didn’t stop there. He took my clit into his mouth, sucked it right in, pulled it like he was sucking a popsicle. Ignoring my cries, he sucked hard, and then licked. Curling his tongue deeper along the crease, he nuzzled my opening.

“Fuck! Troy!”

He hummed and vibrations rumbled through my most sensitive tissues. I wanted to put my hands on his shoulders, to urge him on, make him do more but I remembered what he told me. If I freed myself, he’d stop. I believed him.

Troy did more than taste me. He ate me up, working his mouth over me until I was yelling for him to stop, not to stop, whatever it took.

He went back to my clit and shoved a finger inside me. Moved it about. I screamed. He removed his mouth long enough to say, “Wait until it’s my cock,” then went back to work. Thrills went through me, urging me up, ever closer to the edge.

Then he stopped. Just pulled out and lifted his head. His mouth was red and wet with — me. I gasped when I saw the lascivious expression in his eyes. I’d seen it in the movies, but here and now, with all his attention concentrated on me, it was devastating.

“Should I leave you now?”

To my horror, he climbed off the bed and stood next to it, staring down at me. He said nothing, but his erection was bursting from his underwear. Quickly he skinned down his briefs and his cock sprang free. Hard, juicy and for tonight at least, mine. Would he tease me with it and leave? Oh, fuck, but I needed him so much. If he did, I’d have to — no, I wouldn’t go there. I wanted him, wanted his weight pressing me into the mattress, his skin touching mine.

“You’re incredible,” I whispered.

He opened the same drawer he’d gone into before. What now? Was he about to bring out some other instrument of torture? Nipple clamps perhaps? My head still reeling from what he’d just done, I watched him dip his fingers into the drawer.

He came out with a foil packet. I breathed out deeply.

Pausing, he smiled at me. “Maybe I should get the flogger.”

“Don’t even joke about it,” I said, near to tears because he was taking so long.

“Another time.” That was the second time he’d referred to another date, to later. I assumed we were having a one-night stand. My first, as it happened.

At last, he rolled on the condom. I watched him as he came closer, his cock proudly erect. If I hadn’t had my legs wide open already, it would have happened now. My knees automatically rose, but I couldn’t lift them because my feet were tethered to the foot rails.

Climbing on to the bed, Troy resumed his previous position, kneeling between my legs. Gently this time, he inserted a finger inside me. “Nice and wet, still,” he murmured. “Tonight we’re riding to the finish.”

“Yes, yes please.”

“Thank me when we’re done,” he said, and brought his cock to me. When he pushed, the head slid inside as if I’d been made for him. The thought went through my mind;
I’m fucking a movie star!
and then was gone, replaced by the knowledge that this was Troy.

“You saw me in the movies just then, didn’t you?” he said, his voice shaky.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve seen that look before. Forget it. It’s just a job. There’s just you and me in this room. That’s all that matters.”

“Yes.” The chains rattled as I instinctively lifted my arms to touch him. The instinct was real and came from the heart. “I want to hold you.”

“You can’t,” he said roughly, and pushed in the rest of the way.

I cried out, but my voice was laced with deep, masculine tones and I realized we’d both made a sound. Then he was inside me.

I could move a little and I did, pushing up to meet him when he started to fuck me with deep, penetrating strokes. He kept the rhythm steady and regular, watching my face as he did so. This beautiful man wanted me, he was doing this to
me
.

I still found it hard to believe.

But I had to believe it because he was sliding in and out, bringing me higher to heaven with each thrust. The bed bounced beneath us, conforming to my curves but giving me enough support to bear back, to meet him stroke for stroke. When I closed my eyes he touched the side of my face, grazing his fingers along my cheek. “No, open them. Keep them open. I want to see you. I want you to see me.”

I saw him. Everything I wanted was here, in Troy Cooper.

He increased his thrusts in power and depth, slamming into me. The aroma of lovemaking surrounded us, enveloped us in sensuous longing. Heat suffused me, rippling along my spine and around every part of my bodies, to my fingertips and my toes, to the very top of my head. My scalp prickled and I called to him.

I’d never seen such intense blue as lay in his eyes now, such depth and richness of color. I squirmed against him, rubbing my nipples against his chest.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he said. Sweat gleamed on the powerful muscles of his shoulders.

“Yes.” I felt something, that was for sure. Him.

“You’re more aware of your body. Go inside yourself and examine it. Your nipples, your sex and everything else. It feels good.”

“Yes!” I howled.

“Come, then,” he said through gritted teeth.

As if obeying him, everything inside me exploded. It burst, flowing over me in hot streams of arousal. I yelled, short, staccato shrieks, thrashing my head from side to side.

He grunted, and the first spurt of his arousal made his cock throb as he emptied himself into me. He slumped on top of me, his breath heavy in my ear.

No sound penetrated this luxury apartment except the ones we made. He was so heavy I had difficulty breathing, but I didn’t want him to leave. I would have happily lain here all night. But he lifted himself on his hands, and withdrew carefully, before heading for the bathroom. A moment later the toilet flushed, and then the water in the sink. Then he returned. “I thought you’d have got out by now,” he said, grinning.

“I can’t lift a finger,” I told him.

Smiling, unashamedly and beautifully naked, he came over to where I lay and pressed the black buttons on each set of cuffs. They sprang open immediately. He gathered them up and dropped them in the black box, after wiping them on a towel. “They’re yours,” he said. “Nobody else will ever use them.”

That sounded like a promise, but I didn’t know what he meant by that. He kissed me, but when I would have touched him, he moved away. “Recover. I’ll shower and go downstairs for our supper. Are you hungry now?”

I rolled over and leaned on one elbow. “I do believe I am,” I said.

I would have joined him in the shower, but I didn’t want to make a stupid mistake. But he’d said he didn’t want me to touch him
during sex.
He was okay at the dinner, and kissing me before we came upstairs. I wanted to hold him, to feel his body under my hands, to have the intimacy of him next to me while we slept.

Recalling tomorrow, I groped for my purse. It tumbled to the floor and I had to bend to pick up the bits that had fallen out, but I did find my phone and set the alarm. I wouldn’t have time to go home and change before I went to work otherwise. Luckily I wasn’t due in the gallery until nine, so if I got up at seven and raced home, I could make it. The commute took about half an hour, if I was lucky.

With my phone alarm set, I felt better, and lay back against the cool sheets, tugging the cover over me. I didn’t recall falling asleep but the shower was still running when I drifted away.

*****

M
y phone chirped. Automatically, I reached for it, and still half asleep, hit the off button. When I recognized where I was, the night’s activities flooded back over me, washing over me in a warm tide of memory. But I’d have to move fast now. I hadn’t even showered last night. I turned, anxious not to wake him, and, if I was honest, to see Troy Cooper lying next to me.

The bed next to me was empty, the pillow undented. Had he slept there? Where was he?

Sighing, I swung my legs out of bed and put my head in my hands, pressing my temples and blinking, trying to wake myself up. I’d kept my lenses in, and my eyes were sore. While they were sleep-in lenses, I wasn’t used to them, but I’d have to keep them in until I got home. The mascara smeared in my eyes didn’t help, either. I couldn’t wait to get home to my glasses.

Blinking, I went into the bathroom and held a washcloth to my eyes before I found some cleanser. The hotel had provided all I needed in neat little bottles, a brand I couldn’t normally afford. I’d make myself decent, then go and say goodbye to Troy. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I wasn’t any different, just a bit flushed, with a few little marks on my breasts. No hickeys, though. But I still couldn’t see why he wanted me.

Despite the handcuffs, I hadn’t had nearly enough of him. He was charming, handsome, attentive, and the best lover I’d ever had. I couldn’t ask for more. Actually I was completely overwhelmed, near to weeping from happiness.

I kept my shower quick, despite the shower being as big as my bedroom and equipped with everything anyone could need. In fact, it took me a few minutes to work out the controls. It was a bit too high tech for me. I was frustrated with not being able to stay there longer. At the back of my mind, I thought he might come in and join me. Shared showers belonged in the books I read on my daily commute. I wouldn’t get a chance to try it anywhere else.

More disturbing, I couldn’t imagine anybody I wanted to do it with, other than Troy.

I rinsed my hair, deciding to tie it back rather than spend time drying it. Otherwise I’d be late. Dressing in yesterday’s clothes was a bit of a downer, but I didn’t have much choice. At least nothing was too creased. I left the pantyhose where it was. I hated those things, and Troy didn’t seem too concerned with them, either.

He must be downstairs, waiting. Perhaps he’d ordered breakfast. Right on cue, my stomach rumbled.

Then I saw it. A wad of money was set on the side table, by my purse. When I shifted it, I saw a note. I picked it up and read it.

I’ve gone to rehearsals. Please be out of the apartment when I get back. Thank you for your services last night, they were appreciated. The amount I left is an adequate tip. Tell Madame X I enjoyed her latest escort.

It was set on the card I’d stuffed in my purse. It must have fallen out last night when I groped for my phone.

That was when my world fell apart. But I wouldn’t cry, I wouldn’t. This wasn’t me, it was him, and his expectations. I was convenient, virtually fell into his arms. Actually I had done that, twice. But as much as I wanted to believe that, the note and the money made me feel cheap, used. I might as well have gone with Witley, after all.

I staggered downstairs. In a perfect world I wouldn’t have taken the money, but I needed those bills. Principles are for people who can afford them, I told myself.

I stuffed the bills in my purse and headed on out. We’d kissed and laughed our way upstairs, past the half bath on the lower floor, the seating arrangements and the huge TV. The food was still laid out on the kitchen counter. And that paper still lay on the table, the one that I never got around to signing.

That meant I could take my story to the press. I’d earn enough to pay off most of my loan that way.

I didn’t hesitate. I signed the fucking thing and left it next to the laptop. Principles were one thing, but if I’d called the media, that would make me despicable. And in it up to my eyeballs.