Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
L ily
I sit there, cozy but stewing, waiting for him, the anxiety building inside me. What’s that saying wise people always tell us?
If something seems too good to be true…
It probably is.
Maybe it’s for the best. After all, I’ve just gotten out of a terrible relationship; why start another one? Especially with a controlling billionaire who has BDSM tendencies and a kink room in his house.
At least when this relationship ends, I know Rockwell won’t be stealing my money.
And here comes my very own Too-Good-To-Be-True, in the flesh, striding with the gait of a panther stalking his prey, dressed in a tailored suit that shows off every inch of his perfect frame, his handsome face clouded as if deep in thought.
My stomach twists as if a knife’s been planted in my gut.
Finally, he returns. “Let me change, and I’ll be right with you.”
“Okay,” I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
He saunters back in from the bathroom wearing sexy gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Claudia must have gotten to his wardrobe after all. He looks ten years younger, walking around in casual gear. I love his suits, but I love this look, too.
The man looks good in anything. And probably best in nothing. The thought makes me blush.
He takes a seat next to me. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he apologizes. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to be sorry,” I say.
I want to snuggle in closer, but I’ve got to get this secret off my chest. The words tumble from me; I’m no longer able to stand this feeling in my belly. “But there’s something I need to apologize for and something that’s been bothering me, and I want to talk to you about it.”
“Tell me,” he says. “Now.”
I cover my face with my hands. I start with, “I shouldn’t have snooped.”
“My mind instantly goes to classified Bachman information you may have come across but you have no access to those files.” He pulls my hands away from my face, his steady gaze meeting mine. “What did you find?”
If only it were top-secret information, that would be easier to talk about than this.
“Um… it was in your dresser drawer.” I nervously bite my bottom lip, finally saying, “I found an engagement ring.”
“That.”
I watch as the color drains from his face. He looks down, shaking his head slowly. Such a visceral reaction… now I have to know.
“Yes,” I say softly. “That.”
He takes a moment, breathing in deeply as he prepares to share the story of why he has what looks to be a fifty-thousand-dollar engagement ring nestled in the top drawer of his dresser.
“It’s not a current thing if that’s what you’re asking,” he says.
My heart lightens with joy. “I mean, I would like to know that you are single. Not being one to cheat, I tend to assume everyone is the same way as me, but you,” I draw a quick breath and continue to ramble, “and I never really had ‘that’ talk, and so if you are seeing someone and that was them on the phone, then yes, this would be the time to disclose that information.”
“I’m like you,” he says. His eyes lock on mine, honest and steady. “I don’t mess around.” He heaves a sigh. “I’ve been single for a long time.”
I wait, wanting to know more about the ring.
“Do you mind,” he asks, “if we wait to discuss the ring? If you were wondering if I was single or not, I would have been happy to answer that question. Next time, if anything is bothering you, anything at all, just ask.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling ashamed for having not.
“Promise?” he asks.
“I promise.”
“Good.” He slides back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. He brings his gaze back up to meet mine. “But the snooping—we need to have a little chat about that, don’t we?”
I gulp. “Do we?”
“We do. I don’t like secrets between us.”
“Neither do I,” I agree.
“Being a part of the Bachman family, there may be times I have to wait to tell you things until they’re cleared by security. Not to keep secrets but to keep you safe. Does that make sense?”
“Of course,” I say.
“But if you’re worried about something or see something you don’t understand, I want you to come directly to me. And when you don’t, there are consequences to pay.”
The threatening promise sounds equal parts interesting and terrifying.
“I love this blanket.” I stroke the soft fabric, changing the subject. “Do they give them to everyone who stays in the penthouse?”
“Only the very cutest ones,” he says. “Which means only you.”
“You bought this for me?” I hold the blanket tighter, knowing he’d picked it out just for me. “Now I love it even more.”
“As I said, they’re only for the cutest, and you’re very cute. But you’re also changing the subject on me.”
“Maybe I am.”
“I brought something else I think you will like. Correction. Something I already know you like.” Wondering what he could have, I watch as he slips his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants. “One of the toys from my special room.”
In his hand, he holds a strange-looking little device—very strange. The material looks like the same silicone as the pink vibrator, but this little monster has three heads and is a pearlized purple.
“And something else.” His hand goes into his pocket again, bringing out a clear red plastic tube of lube with the word warming in big pink letters. Are these sweats like Mary Poppins’ carpetbag? Next, is he going to pull out the wooden chair from his ‘special room,’ too?
“This time, the vibrator goes inside of you. Your pussy and your ass.”
“What! No.” I scootch away from him, my butt safely sliding further down the sofa. “No way.”
“I see you’re partly still a virgin,” he chuckles. “How fun. Especially since one day, I’ll have my cock buried in that pretty little ass of yours.”
“I am a virgin in that way, yes, and unless you give me a very good reason, I’ll be staying one.”
“The reason is you snooped in my private belongings, which I’m fine with as long as it’s not work-related, but you kept it from me, all this time wondering if I was single or not.”
“To be fair, I only wondered that when you got the phone call earlier.” I wrap the blanket around my waist, protecting my poor bottom. Changing the subject once more, I ask, “Who was on the phone, by the way?”
“Work stuff. Nothing to worry about. What you need to be worrying about is what I have here in my hand. Now stand up, take off those clothes, and put your hands against that wall.” His gaze travels to an open wall in the living room, free of artwork.
“And if I say no?” I ask.
“Now,” he says.
Something in his face and his tone make me obey. I give a shudder, tossing my blanket on the back of the sofa. Tiptoeing away from him, I make my way over to the wall. I slip out of my shirt and pants, trembling as I turn to face the wall.
He comes up behind me, his hands free now. His toys must be back in his pocket because he grabs one of my hands in each of his, raising them over my head, pressing my palms against the cold wall.
A chill runs through me, goosebumps rising on my skin.
His breath is warm as he moves in close. He brushes my hair to the side. His lips tickle my neck as he whispers, “I’m going to have so much fun playing with you, my pretty little toy. You’re so lovely, so beautiful. And all mine.”
Hot kisses trail down my neck, his scruff rubbing against the curve at the base, making all kinds of delicious tingles electrify my body. “That feels… so good.”
“Wait till you feel everything I have planned for you.” His hands run down my sides. I shudder, reaching for him. A sharp spank lands on my right ass cheek. The pain makes me hiss. “Naughty girl. Hands back on the wall. You’re being punished.”
“I forgot,” I breathe.
“This toy will help you remember.” He lets me go. I glance over my shoulder. He’s now busy with his warming liquid, snapping the tube open. Holding the bottle upside down, he fills his cupped palm with lube.
His hand cups my ass with the warm liquid. “Oh, god.”
It oozes between my cheeks, the warmth and wetness spreading. The sweet, clean fruity scent of the lube fills the room. He slips slick fingers inside my pussy. My muscles clamp down on him, hard, involuntarily.
“Oh, god.” His fingers are inside me, and that special lube goes from warm to hot as he moves them. His thumb manages to find its way to my asshole, circling and teasing as his thick fingers fill and fuck me.
My palms—cold only a moment ago—go damp against the wall, sliding. I say the only two words that have been left in my disappearing vocabulary. “Oh, god.”
His busy hand stays busy. His free hand spanks my ass. Once, then twice. “Back in place.”
I move my hands back up. His mouth is back, kissing my neck. He spanks me again, the pain blinding. His teeth nip at my skin with the next spank, the pain now dancing over my skin.
He finger-fucks me deeper, his digits hot and wet and thick, and I feel as if I’m losing my mind, the haziness taking over, my eyes closing, my heart racing, my lips parting to murmur those two words one more time. “Oh, god.”
He’s gone.
“What?” I glance over my shoulder.
Now he’s holding the vibrator in one hand, drizzling the lube all over the toy.
“Oh, god. That thing is not going inside me.” It now looks huge with its daunting three heads. They come out like prongs on a pitchfork, the devil’s toy; a large head in the middle, medium on one side for my ass, and a tiny one on the other side for my clit.
“Yes, it is. Part your pretty legs.”
I take a quick breath, sliding my bare feet across the soft carpeting till my legs are apart. The cool evening air caresses my pussy, making the presence of the lube even more evident.
A hand presses against the inside of my thigh. “Further.”
“Oh, god.” I move my legs further apart. The scent of my arousal, mixed with the sweet smell of the lube, reaches me.
He picks up on the scent as well. “God, you not only have the best-tasting pussy in the world, your scent is intoxicating.” He presses against me, his cock hard. I love the feeling, knowing how much it turns him on to play with me.
But I’m not in control, not at all.