Chapter 16 #3
I was pissed off when he said no commitment or relationship because I took it to mean I’m not worthy of being his girlfriend. But whatevs. He’s not worthy of being my boyfriend, either.
That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.
Right now, all I can think is that he’s mine . Those muscular forearms are mine to command. I could strip him naked and?—
Billy disproves his pledge to submit by taking charge. Moving faster than I can track, he grips my waist and boosts me up to straddle his waist.
Pepper gives a yip of excitement, noting that it’s playtime.
One growl from Billy quells the little dog’s enthusiasm.
“Oh…okay. Yes, lift me up.” I can’t keep the laughter out of my voice as I pretend I ordered it first.
The fact that I love being picked up by this man pretty much proves his entire case against me.
Billy isn’t Incredible Hulk-big like Grayson, the door guy downstairs.
He’s muscled but on the wiry side. Still, he makes me feel as light as a child the way he easily holds me, his forearm propped under my ass.
“Carry me to your bedroom.”
His answer is a dark rumble, but he swiftly strides down the hall. My breasts thrust in his face, and he bites one boob through my thin shirt.
I cry out, clamping my inner thighs more tightly around his waist, my pussy contracting.
I suddenly can’t remember why I was resisting sex with him. Oh, yeah, because I didn’t want him to win. But clearly I’m the one winning here. I’m being charioted to a bedroom by a tall, strong, billionaire who apparently is willing to do my bidding when it comes to bed-related activities.
Plus, no commitment or relationship. Just sex.
Now that I’m over being offended, I can realize that it’s a perfect scenario.
The idea that men only want sex and women have to use that bargaining chip to get them into relationships is just an old philosophy stemming from times when women had no agency or rights to property.
As if we’re not supposed to love sex, too.
As if we can’t just be in it for pleasure alone.
So yeah. I’m burning down the patriarchy right now. Starting with ordering Billy Billions around in his own bedroom.
The bedroom is like the rest of Billy’s penthouse–decorated in glass and metal and devoid of any color except black, white, and gray.
White walls. Dark grey rug. An enormous California King four post bed in lacquered black stands in the center of the room.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park shape one wall.
On the wall opposite the bed hang a series of three framed black and white prints of sweeping mountain and forest landscapes.
They look like Ansel Adams’ prints of Yosemite.
I make a mental note to examine them later.
Apparently, Billy doesn’t know how to not be in charge because he drops me in the center of the bed and unbuttons my shorts.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hold up my hand. “Take off your own clothes.”
Let’s see if he’s truly capable of following my orders.
He holds my gaze, that small smile playing around his lips as he swiftly unbuttons his dress shirt. I hold my breath, waiting for him to take off the undershirt. I’m dying to see his chest to find out–
Hairy. Not waxed.
Yum. I do love a hairy chest.
I scramble off the bed.
Billy’s hands move to unbuckle his belt.
“Wait!” I hold up a finger. I’m making this up as I go.
Billy holds still, his fingers still on the buckle. It’s a sexy look. I don’t know why I’m imagining him using that belt on me. Buckling my wrists together. My thighs. Spanking my ass with it.
I’ve never played that kinky, but something about Billy and the things he just said about me inspires these crazy thoughts.
I walk around behind him and take over, slowly sliding his belt out of the loops. I drop it on the floor and then slide my palm over the hard ridge of his cock in his trousers. Damn, he’s big. I unbutton his pants and tug the zipper down.
“Kick off your shoes.”
He toes off his expensive Italian leather loafers.
“Sit on the edge of the bed.”
He turns and sits. He’s relaxed, his gaze half-mast, like he’s drunk with lust. If I were truly evil, I would order him to strip, tie him to the bed, and then leave to paint the mural.
That might serve him right, but I’m not sure I could handle the blow-back. Maybe I’m starting to care about this pseudo-relationship Billy and I are developing.
Besides, that’s not what I want. I want to taste him, like he’s tasted me.
I kneel on the plush rug that probably costs more than I’ve made in my entire lifetime and free his erection.
He groans, and his hands clench into fists by his side, but he keeps them there, like he’s at a strip club, and I’m a dancer on his lap. I can touch him, but he can’t touch me. I fist his cock and slide my hand up and down his length.
A low rumble sounds in his chest.
Wow. He’s more of an animal than I would’ve thought. Before this week, I imagined sex with him could be a cold, manicured endeavor, but he’s off-the-hook hot.
I show him my tongue as I slowly lean forward, creating anticipation. His thighs tense.
“Do you want me to put your cock in my mouth?” I ask.
“Don’t tease.” His voice is even. Maybe there’s even a slight challenge to the words.
I get the message loud and clear. He might obey, but he won’t beg.
And any illusion I had that I’m actually in control just slipped away. He’s toying with me–letting me have my turn, so to speak, before he takes back over.
I slide the tip of my tongue along his weeping slit. “What if I do?” I ask.
I see a wicked glimmer in his eyes. “There are punishments for girls who tease.”
A zap of lightning goes straight to my clit, and the inner walls of my core contract. Yep. He’s got my number. Apparently he understands me better than I do. Maybe this whole time I have subconsciously been daring him to punish me.
I exhale on the head of his cock, but still don’t take it into my mouth. It surges in my hand, thickening to an alarming width, veins popping.
“Ask me nicely,” I purr.
“Show me, Silver.”
“Show you what?” I smile up at him. I’ve definitely got him where I want him now.
“Show me heaven.”
Well, all right, then. He’s not begging, but he did ask nicely. I slide my tongue under his cock as I engulf it in my mouth.
Billy jerks and sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation. I take him deep, going slowly, so I can relax my throat.
“Oh, fuck,” he mutters when the head of his cock hits the back of my throat and keeps going.
I cup his balls. He lets out a pained exhale. “Aubrey…”
I like hearing my name in those pained tones. Knowing I’m the one who made the manicured billionaire lose his cool.
I hollow my cheeks to suck him hard as I pull back, and his hand tangles in my hair. He closes his fingers in a fist and uses my hair to guide me in and out.
I pop off and run my tongue around my lips. “Did I say you could touch?”
He releases my hair, but his fingers drift to my throat. He gives me a hand necklace–not squeezing, just cradling the column of my neck. “May I touch you here?” His voice is deep and raspy.
I swallow under his hold. My brain skids around in my skull for an answer. Half of me wants to tell him no. Reestablish control. Refuse to let him dominate me. But I soaked my panties the moment he put his fingers there.
So I settle for a non-answer and take his cock back in my mouth. He keeps his fingers around my throat, but his thumb lightly strokes up to my chin, as if he’s tracing the location I’m taking his dick.
His fingers tighten when he gets excited, but the moment I stiffen, he releases, moving his hand to massage my nape, then traveling back up into my hair where he fists it again. He guides me faster, and I let him for a moment because it’s hot as hell, but then I pop off again.
This time, he instantly releases my hair.
I lift his cock with my hand and lower my face to his balls, licking, then sucking them.
Billy’s breath grows harsh. When my nose brushes his dick, he chokes on a sound and stiffens.