The Billionaire's Christmas Bargain: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 3 Read online

  It felt good. Right. Incredible. He didn’t have to decide. He didn’t have to worry about whether he ought to try to go to third base. Or whether he should go faster to make her come, or deeper and harder, or whether he ought to do something completely different. Because she’ll tell me exactly what she wants.

  All the pressure was off him, allowing him to focus completely on her.

  He dipped lower and traced his tongue over her glistening slit. Her breath caught in her throat and she arched her hips toward him. So it confused the hell out of him when she backed away from the bed. And him.

  “Come down on the floor, on your knees. You’ll be able to get to me better without craning your neck.”

  He’d never been on his knees for a woman, unless thrusting into her from behind. Climbing down off the bed and kneeling before her, he had to admit she was right. The angle was a lot easier on his neck. She grabbed his shoulders and opened her thighs wider, bringing him deeper beneath her. She was so wet, hot and needy. The taste of her made him crazy. So long. It’d been so damned long…

  She fisted one hand in his hair and dragged his mouth lower, grinding her hips against him. Straining to keep his eyes open, he gave her his tongue, his chin, even his nose, using his whole face to pleasure her. Panting, she strained against him, needing more. He didn’t wait for the words, but sank his tongue deep inside her.

  Her hips bucked against his mouth and he groaned, tasting the salty flood of her desire. She rode his face, taking away his ability to breathe, and he couldn’t make himself care. Not with the raw, ragged sounds she made as she came. She clawed at his shoulders and finally collapsed against him. He caught her, holding her up despite her quivering legs.

  He pressed his face against her stomach, feeling the faint tremors still shaking her.

  “That was so good.” She let out a cross between a moan and a laugh. “Damn. Sorry, I didn’t mean to come so quickly.”

  “I loved it.” He kept his mouth on her skin, afraid to break the connection. “And I’m sure I’ll be apologizing for the exact same thing soon.”

  “If I allow you to come,” she said lightly.

  He dropped back on his heels and gazed up at her. “Yes, Mistress.”

  Her eyes softened and she leaned down to plant a kiss on his mouth. She licked his lips and chin, tasting herself on him. “That’s my boy. Now up into bed with you, cupcake.”

  He growled at the nickname but readily lay back on the mattress, proving she hadn’t completely cowed his arrogance out of him yet.

  “Oh, that’s right, you’d rather be the grizzly. Your legs are almost furry enough.”

  He scowled, making her laugh. “You’re not supposed to laugh at me.”

  “But you’re so cute when you’re mad.” She sat on his knees and studied his cock like an artist getting ready to draw him from memory. Tracing a finger lightly around the head, she let her lips twitch when his hips jerked off the mattress. “My, my, someone’s very eager.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he ground out. “Very eager.”

  She reached down and gathered up his balls in her palm. He tensed but didn’t voice an objection. She squeezed hard enough to make him let out a nervous little squeak. “These are mine now. This big, thick cock is mine too. You don’t touch it unless I say so. You don’t come unless I give you permission. Are you willing to give me that control over your own pleasure?”

  He nodded jerkily, and she gave a tug on his balls that made him yelp with surprise.

  “Words, Harvey. Always words.”

  “Yes,” he bit off, his eyes shooting daggers at her.

  “Very good,” she purred. “Say it all.”

  “This dick is yours.” She arched her brows expectantly until he continued. “Mistress.”

  “So I’m going to take this dick inside me and ride you as hard as possible until I come again. And you’re not going to come. Not until I give you permission.”

  He groaned, his thighs flexing beneath her. “As you say, Mistress.”

  “Serious question now. I haven’t had a partner in over a year, and I was tested before that. I’m on birth control. I—”

  “No condom,” he growled, daring to clamp his hands on her thighs to keep her from getting up. “It’s not necessary.”

  “It’s very soon,” she said gently, letting him keep his hands on her without reprimanding him. “It’s an intimacy that we don’t have to share and I can still give you what you need.”

  “No. I don’t need it, and you don’t either. I don’t even know if I have any condoms, and they’d be years old. I wouldn’t trust it if we truly needed protection.”

  She hadn’t brought any condoms either, because she’d never intended to go this far with a client. Guilt swamped her and she started to pull back. His grip softened, his fingers barely resting on her thighs. She searched his face, waiting for his arguments or excuses, but he merely looked up at her, his eyes bright but oddly calm.

  Accepting.

  Rather than argue with her, he waited for her to decide. A true submissive. Her submissive.

  It’d been a long time for her too. Not three years, and she didn’t have the same emotional and physical trauma to deal with, but her body ached to be filled. The release he’d given her only made her burn to have his cock stretching her, sliding deep inside. She tightened her fingers on his thighs, trying to get a grip on her own desire, or this would all be over as soon as she took him inside.

  He groaned, thrusting his hips up against her weight. She’d accidentally pulled some of his hairs. Untangling her fingers, she rose up over him. “Look at me. Look at me while I claim you as mine. You may keep your hands on me, as long as you don’t try to take control of the speed.”

  Eyes dark with lust, he stared up at her. His lips parted when she took just the tip of his erection inside her. She tightened her muscles and swirled her hips lightly, watching the muscles across his shoulders and chest bunch and strain. Her pussy clenched harder, making her groan too. Her thighs quivered with effort, but she rose back up and let him slide free.

  He whimpered, his fingers convulsing on her thighs but he didn’t try to haul her back down.

  She repositioned him and pushed down hard without pause, taking his full length as deep as she could. His back arched with enough force to lift her up off her knees, but she couldn’t fault him for taking action, because it felt incredible. He filled every inch of her, stretching her wide. It took her lungs a moment to remember how to breathe, and she still sounded strangled. “Good, that’s so good. You passed the first test, even though your eyes are squeezed shut.”

  His eyes flew open. “Sorry, Mistress.”

  Tormented need burned in his eyes.

  She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. “All I want you to do is lie here and take it. Take whatever I give you. Can you do that for me?”

  Before he could answer, she rotated her hips, grinding her clit against his hip bone hard enough she groaned.

  “Are you going to come again?” His voice was raw, as if he’d been screaming for hours. It made her shiver, that barely leashed emotion hanging on by a thread, just because she’d given him an order.

  “Very likely, yes.”

  “Then yeah. I’ll lie here and take whatever you give me. Mistress.”

  She’s killing me. I’m going to die before she’s done.

  Not that he’d complain.

  With her palms planted on his stomach, she rubbed and rocked and ground herself against him. She circled her hips, massaging every inch of his throbbing dick. She was so wet he could feel the moisture running down the crease between his butt cheek and thigh. And oh, God, she had wickedly perfect muscle control. She clenched and released, squeezing and milking his cock until he couldn’t hold back the groans any longer.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
>
  As a reward, she stopped the vicious circling of her hips. Or maybe it was a punishment, because she lifted herself, letting him feel his cock sliding out of her a slow fraction at a time. He bit his lip, trying not to bellow at the top of his lungs.

  Hovering with him barely inside her, she paused.

  His thighs jumped and quivered with strain. Sweat burned his eyes. His throat was hot and dry from sucking in deep, ragged breaths. Blinking rapidly, he finally focused on her face.

  “There you are.” Her breathing labored like his, her cheeks flushed and hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck. Her full breasts tormented him, the soft pale flesh he wanted to kiss and lick and hold, but she hadn’t given permission. Maybe she’d lean down and press her breasts into his face. He’d die a very happy man. “You passed the second test.”

  He couldn’t find the desire to even ask what that test had been. He didn’t care. If she squeezed her muscles on his dick again, he was going to explode.

  As if she’d heard him, she did just that.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he sucked in his breath and clenched every muscle he had, trying to fight back the urge to release. His balls felt like they’d swollen to the size of basketballs. She slammed down on him, driving him so deep and hard he instinctively tried to back away a little. He didn’t want to damage something inside her. Flat on his back, there wasn’t anything he could do though. She ground herself against him, her head falling back, her arched back lifting her gorgeous breasts. She cried out, shaking against him.

  He made himself let go of her thighs, for fear he’d leave fingerprint bruises in her skin. Clenching his fists, he dug his fingernails into his palms, but it didn’t help. A giant fist burned at the base of his spine, boiling his blood and tearing him apart.

  He didn’t realize she’d grabbed one of his hands until she placed it on her breast. “Pinch. Hard.”

  Her hard, swollen nipple slid between his fingers. He closed his fingers around it, holding her breast in his palm while she shook above him. So beautiful. He couldn’t remember watching a woman come like this before. She held nothing back, her body curving and twisting with sinuous grace to maximize her pleasure. Only hers. In this moment, he meant nothing. He was only the cock inside her, driving her to release.

  “Now,” she groaned deep in her throat. “Harvey. Come now.”

  His body didn’t wait for his mind to register her words. The fist grinding in his spine exploded and thousands of pounds of molten rock heaved inside him. He shuddered as spurt after spurt boiled up out of him, hot plumes that sizzled through his body. She burned him to ash, his mind wiped clean, his body so spent he couldn’t have slid out of bed to save their lives if the old house caught fire.

  Still on top of him, she cuddled his head to her breasts, her arms around his neck. Gasping against her softness, he tried to make his mind connect to his mouth. “Don’t leave.”

  “I’m not,” she murmured, stroking his hair.

  “Ever,” he finally managed to say despite his brain short-circuiting.

  She made a low sound that might have been pain. He fought to open his eyes, to search her face, but his eyelids were too heavy. She slid down beside him and gathered him close. He could smell the spice of her skin. He’d have to ask Maxwell to make some gingerbread cookies again. They’d been his favorite as a kid. Another thing he’d crossed off the list after the accident, another memory of Christmas and everything he’d had—and lost—before.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Forever. Though he wasn’t sure he managed to say it aloud.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kelsey turned her head but couldn’t see with her hair all down in her face. What time is it? Her stomach rumbled and a man laughed.

  She jerked her head up and swiped her hair out of her face. Harvey grinned as he sat down on the side of the bed with a silver tray loaded with food. “I was hungry too, so I snuck down to the kitchen.”

  “Looks good.” She crossed her legs and propped the pillows up against her back. “Actually, it looks incredible. When I have the late-night munchies, it’s usually a bowl of Captain Crunch.”

  Harvey shook his head. “Cold cereal was a holiday treat around here. Not that I complained, because Maxwell always made hot breakfasts. Scones, eggs, waffles, pancakes. He believed a hot meal was the difference in a letter grade at school.”

  Yeah, she’d totally agree with that belief. When she didn’t have a hot breakfast at school…

  “What?” Harvey asked.

  Damn. She smiled and tried to change the conversation. “So this is a real scone. I’ve never had one before.”

  “They’re better hot from the oven, but yeah. Maxwell’s favorite teatime treat. Did I say something to upset you?”

  She shrugged. “Let’s just say I completely agree with Gordon and leave it at that. Why do you always call him by his last name?”

  Now it was his turn to busy himself buttering his scone and avoiding her gaze. “That’s what Dad always called him. They were Caine and Maxwell. I naturally called him the same. You’re like Mom though. She always called him Gordon. I guess she thought it was more personal that way.”

  “Did you ever…suspect?”

  “Then? No. I left home at fourteen, only to come back for the holidays. We traveled together all the time, but Maxwell helped with everything, so of course he was always there with us. It was natural, you know?”

  The scone melted in her mouth, so buttery and light she couldn’t stop the sigh of bliss. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “Plus, he’s a damned good cook and I’m always hungry.”

  They sat on top of the bed, naked, bathed in Christmas lights, and talked about silly things. Her first job. His first solo sailing trip. Her screw-ups when she first started camming. Some of the crazy things past clients had wanted.

  “All he wanted to see were your feet?”

  Laughing in between bites of sharp cheddar, she continued the story. “He wanted my nails painted red and he wanted me to cross my ankles, like this.” She stretched out her legs and crossed right ankle over her left. “Every time I dangled my foot, he groaned and pumped his cock. He came in five dangles. Best money I ever made.”

  “Does it bother you to be a sex worker? I mean, morally?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a job and it pays well. It might sound tawdry, but I like helping people. People have all kinds of needs, and sometimes it makes them feel terrible inside. Like they’re less human. It makes me feel good to help them, even if it sometimes gets a little weird. Plus, what other kind of job could I have that makes so much when I don’t have a college degree? I only needed a small investment in equipment to get started. Of course, it took a while to figure out what works best for me, but I’m making a nice income now. I’ll be able to open my bar soon.”

  His eyes lit up. “You’re going to become a businesswoman?”

  “I am a businesswoman.” She gave him a smart rap on the thigh. “I have the business taxes to prove it. But yeah, I’ve always wanted to own my own bar. Camming is the job that’s going to make that happen.” Along with this job. Guilt twinged so hard she glanced at the lamp on the dresser. Not if I give the check back to Gordon as soon as I find him. There’s no way in hell I’m walking into my dream bar and remembering that I slept with a client. That I accepted money for my services, even though I care about him. I care about him so much. I can’t screw this up.

  “Why a bar?”

  “You’re going to think it’s crazy.”

  “Me? I’ve been unable to leave my own house for over a year. It can’t be any crazier than that.”

  “My parents met in a bar. Mom worked days at the diner, and nights at the local tavern. They always had honky-tonk wannabes playing on the weekends, and she hooked up with a long tall Texan. That’s how she described him to me. ‘A long, tall, count
ry-singing Texan.’ She always hoped he’d come wandering back with his guitar, but it was her bad luck that he made it big. I never even met him until I turned twenty-one and decided to find him myself.”

  Harvey shifted backward and winced, making her smile. “Guess I’m going to remember that paddle for a while, aren’t I?”

  “A few days, at least.”

  “So how did it go when you met him?”

  Her smile faded. “He didn’t believe me.”

  “She never told him?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she told him. He just thought she wanted money. He might have even sent her some to shut her up for a while, and we were desperate enough, she probably took it. I do remember one especially nice Christmas where we actually had a turkey dinner. I always thought we’d gotten a food basket from the shelter, since that’s the winter I got the coat too, but it might have been him.”

  Harvey reached over and took her hand, his fingers stroking the back of her hand. “What’s the story about the coat?”

  “The Christmas coat,” she said softly. “It was my favorite Christmas ever. I was in the second grade and we were living in St. Paul. We moved a lot, and were only here that one Christmas. Mom couldn’t take the cold, even for the job we’d moved up here for her to take. She always thought someone from the office where she cleaned did it, but we never knew for sure.”

  He stretched out beside her and used her thigh to pillow his head, still holding her hand. With the Christmas lights glowing on his skin, he looked like an angel. A fallen angel with those dark scars on his upper body, which only made him more beautiful.

  “I had a coat, but it was from the previous winter when we were in St. Louis. It gets cold in Missouri, but nothing like Minnesota. The sleeves were too short by three inches and I couldn’t zip it up because the zipper was broken. Mama made me a scarf, hat and glove set, and that helped a lot. I also wore a sweater underneath it. I tried two, but then the sleeves were too tight and I couldn’t get the coat pulled on all the way. Mama didn’t have a snow coat either, but we made do. We’d always made do.