Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel Page 4

  Good girl. I really like the sound of it.

  The doors of the elevator open and invite us into a long and brightly lit hallway. I try not to think too much about how much a night in one of the rooms on this floor might cost – or why he can even afford it. I wouldn't like to share it with my friends, but the thought of being treated to a night of pleasure by a man like him only adds to my excitement.

  He stops in front of one of the doors and quickly opens it with a card.

  "Come in," he beckons me as I remain in the hallway, hesitant to follow him.

  The room is gorgeous – and gigantic. It is decorated in warm colors, mostly red with a hint of orange here and there. The warm light is rather dim, but still bright enough for me to see everything clearly.

  It seems like he has only booked the room for the night. I can't see any belongings or luggage that would suggest a longer stay. Who knows when he made that reservation – and why he had the key with him already.

  "Very nice," I whisper and turn around to him. "You planned to pick someone up tonight, didn't you?"

  He is standing behind me, leaning against the wall and watching me as I scan the room.

  "I was prepared for that to happen, yes," he says. "But I would have stayed here no matter what, even if I had to spend the night by myself."

  "Mhm," I mumble, raising my eyebrow to show him how little I am convinced.

  "But why –"

  "Nicky," he interrupts me. "No fights. No questions."

  I literally bite my tongue and nod. "Yes, Sir."

  This is harder than I thought.

  "Now," he adds, approaching me. "I want you to use the bathroom and freshen yourself up. Take a shower, if you like to. I want you clean and naked when you come out."

  "Naked?" I inquire.

  "Wear a bathrobe if you feel more comfortable that way," he says. "And hurry. I want to play with you."

  Play?

  I am intrigued to ask, but remember the rules just in time. No fights. No questions.

  "Yes, Sir," I obediently say and stroll past him to where I suspect the bathroom.

  I cannot suppress a childish gasp as I enter the bathroom and close the door behind me. Damn, this is nice. Everything is so lavish and clean. And there is even a giant whirlpool. I glance at it and wonder for a moment whether I should ask him if this couldn't be a good place for us to start. A shared bath, surrounded by foam, massaging each other...

  But he has other plans. And I am interested in seeing what those plans might entail. There is still room for suggestions later, after all.

  I take off my clothes and hop under the shower. It feels great to get rid of the dried sweat and filth from the club.

  I feel like a new woman when I step out of the shower and wrap myself in one of the soft bathrobes. A quick look in the mirror reveals that my makeup still looks surprisingly good and only my hair needs a little brush through before I dare to step back into the room.

  He is standing next to the bed and beckons me to come closer.

  "You look beautiful," he whispers. "You should see that cute little blush on your cheeks. It's irresistible."

  I want to protest – instead I let him pull me closer and grant me another one of his divine kisses. How is it possible that he still tastes so good? So fresh and sweet.

  "Let me look at you," he whispers as our kiss ends.

  I hesitate, but don't interfere when he reaches down to the belt of my robe and opens the loose knot I just fastened.

  Slowly and very carefully, he opens the robe and places his hands on my hip bones. I am completely naked underneath but do not feel exposed at all.

  Until he moves his hands up to my shoulders to attentively remove the robe. It falls down on the floor, embracing my ankles – and my heart jumps with excitement.

  He hums in approval as his eyes and hands wander along my body, inspecting and worshipping every inch. I have always been satisfied with my slim frame but never thought of myself as sexy or beautiful. If anything, my figure is a little too androgynous for my own taste, with narrow hips, no remarkably feminine waist, and rather small breasts. They suit my overall frame, but could be a bit bigger, if it were up to me. Especially because my behind does not follow the rules and is disproportionately big in contrast to the rest of my body.

  But all that doesn't matter now while he is laying his eyes on me. His face shows nothing but affection and hunger for me. He is taking in every little detail of my body – and he seems to love every bit of it. His adoration is a true boost for my ego.

  "You are divine," he whispers. "What a perfect beauty you are."

  "Thank you, Sir," I breathe.

  My voice is about to leave me once again. My words are spoken with such a hoarse and low tone that even I am not completely sure if I actually said them.

  He places his hands on my hip again, but only for a short moment before one of them moves further. I flinch and look down as I realize where he is headed.

  "Look at me!" he hisses.

  I do as I am told and reciprocate his intense gaze while his hand moves further, gently caressing my mound for a few moments before he finally reaches his destination.

  I moan when he touches my center. His motions are careful and slow, not invasive at all, even though we are still strangers – and I am completely naked while he is still fully dressed. I breathe noisily as he goes a step further and gently spreads my folds with two fingers while a third one glides in between.

  His touch is electric and sends shocks of lust through my entire body. I feel the urge to look away and close my eyes in shame, but he keeps me fixated, trapped with his gorgeous dark eyes that demand my attention.

  "What a good girl you are," he whispers. "So wet and ready for me. And we haven't even started yet."

  I blush. Yet, pride joins my embarrassment, as I am still looking at him, withstanding his gaze – and his incredibly skillful touch.

  Suddenly, he removes his hands and takes a step back. I sigh with longing and disappointment, but don't say a word. Instead, I look up to him, waiting for the next move.

  "Get down," he orders. "On your knees, sit on your heels."

  "Yes, Sir," I whisper and comply.

  "Place your hands on your knees, palms up," he adds as I am kneeling in front of him. "And lower your head."

  I do as I am told and add another "Yes, Sir" as soon as I am positioned the way he wants me. This is so odd, so thrilling. I’ve never done anything like this before, obeying like a little puppy. But with him, it just feels natural. It pleases me more to obey than to fight his commands.

  "Good girl," he praises. "Stay like this until I tell you otherwise."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He walks past me and heads for the bathroom.

  And then I wait.

  CHAPTER VI

  Nicky

  I hear water running. Apparently he wants to be just as fresh and clean as I am. I remain exactly the way he told me to. Sitting on my heels next to the bed, hands on knees, palms up, my head lowered – aroused and confused.

  I have always enjoyed playing the submissive part in the bedroom – and only there. But I have never had anyone talking to me like this. Exposing me, touching me in my most intimate place this early in the game, and giving me orders like one would give to a slave or a child.

  And I am enjoying it.

  What a mindfuck. But a pleasant one. I am embarrassed and stirred up at the same time. My heart jumping with excitement while my mind tries to keep up with all the crazy thoughts run by anticipation. What will happen next? How long will he make me wait?

  Why do I like this?

  No. Not this question. I subtly shake my head. There is still enough time for doubt and self-analysis after tonight. I don't have to justify myself, as long as I am enjoying this. And there is no doubt about that.

  I hear the bathroom door opening and instinctively want to turn my head and look up. But I don't. I can do this. I want to obey – and hear that wonderfully e
nticing praise again. I want to be a good girl for him.

  He steps out and slowly approaches me, each step well conceived and in control, even though I can feel the tension, his burning lust for me. He stops in front of me and places his naked feet close to my knees, very close. Still, I refrain from looking up.

  And I do get my reward.

  "Good girl," he whispers. "I didn't expect you to be this good at following orders."

  Neither did I, a voice inside my head exclaims. And yet, here I am. Kneeling naked in front of a man who looks like the perfect office slave yuppie. But looks can be deceiving. More and more, I am beginning to think that there is more to him than the used up presumptions I had when I first saw him.

  "Look up," he orders. "I know you want to."

  "Yes, Sir."

  This feels like a victory. I smile as I slowly raise my head, scanning every part of his naked body as I do. His toned, long legs, up to his center, where he sports his impressive, half erected cock.

  I cannot help but pause for a moment when I see it. Gorgeous. It is intimidating how perfect this man is – all the way down to his member, which causes me to gasp even when it is not fully awake. Straight, clean and with a remarkable girth that is proportional to its length. I can literally see it growing under my eyes. Whatever I am doing, whoever I am – he is enjoying it.

  "I am up here," he reminds me, smirking like a proud little boy when I finally raise my eyes, following his buffed upper body. He is not as hairy as I expected. Only a very faint but dark fluff decorates his toned chest. His upper body is a sculptured masterpiece of muscular canyons, coated with tanned skin.

  He is so out of my league.

  "You want to play with it, don't you?" he asks, standing in front of me with his hands behind his back, like a soldier.

  I nod. "Yes, Sir. Very much."

  "Well," he says. "Unfortunately, it will be up to me to decide whether I let that happen."

  And before I have a chance to object, he produces a blindfold that he has been hiding behind his back.

  I pout when he puts it on me – which, I am sure, does not go unnoticed by him. The world darkens around me as he robs me of that beautiful sight.

  I remain still, awaiting his next move while he observes me. I cannot see him anymore, but I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in place and causing me to breathe heavily with anticipation.

  I flinch when I feel his hands on my shoulders.

  "Get up," he whispers.

  "Yes, Sir."

  I stagger back up on my feet, supported by him as my sense of balance is distorted by the blindfold and the fact that I have been kneeling for quite a while.

  He gently guides me toward the bed. "Lie on your back."

  I do as I am told, feeling utterly exposed and safe at the same time as I place my naked body on the soft sheets.

  "Hands up," is his next command.

  He grabs my left wrist as soon as I comply and puts something around it. Leather, it seems. A leather handcuff. It closes with an audible sound and – judging from the sounds I hear – appears to have a small chain attached to it that he fastens at the bed post above my head. He continues to do the same to my other hand, so that both my wrist are tied to the bed posts on either side of the bed.

  I am helpless, naked and instinctively try to cover myself by closing my legs as well as I can. Of course, there is no point in doing that, but I cannot help it. For the time, I feel something like fear spreading through my body. Joining, but not replacing the excitement from before.

  "Do you trust me?" he asks.

  "I have to, don't I?" I reply.

  He chuckles. "Sassy girl. Spread your legs."

  I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I contemplate that order. Spreading my legs would be opposite of what I am doing right now, as I am pushing my thighs against each other, trying to expose as little as possible of my most intimate body parts.

  "Now!" he snaps – and I comply.

  I open my legs with one sudden movement, following the commanding sound of his voice.

  "Good girl," he praises and pets my head.

  He moves between my legs and I squirm in front of him, moving my hip from one side to the other, my legs twitching as I fight the urge to close them again.

  He places his hands on the inner side of my lower legs respectively and slowly moves them upwards, closing in on my trembling center. My breathing accelerates uncontrollably. I yearn for his touch. I want to feel him between my legs again. His wonderful fingers caressing my...

  Yes! A desperate moan escapes my lips when he reaches my wet entrance. He doesn't hesitate one moment to spread my folds and move another finger between them to gently massage my nub of pleasure.

  The anticipation, the long build up has made me so charged, I instantly start to shiver with lust when he starts touching me. He hums with approval. "Good girl."

  I yank on the cuffs around my wrist as I start to struggle, writhing under his touch, desperate with lust and so incredibly hungry for more, for him. I want him inside me.

  "What do you want?" he asks as if he could read my mind.

  I bite my lower lip, fully aware of what the answer should be, but too embarrassed to actually say it.

  "What. Do. You. Want?" He repeats, now inserting his finger and underlying each word with a brute, delicious shove inside me.

  I catch myself leaning into him. My entire body is begging him to fuck me – why do I need to say it out loud.

  Because that is what he wants. And it is what I need to give him to get what I want.

  "I want you to fuck me," I breathe. Low and hoarse.

  "Louder," he says.

  Oh, for God's sake.

  "I want you to fuck me!" I yell. "Please, Sir! Please fuck me!"

  My cheeks are burning, just like the rest of my body. Lust and embarrassment are forming a toxic team that takes over my entire body and mind.

  He removes his hand from my fiery center. I hear plastic ripping – a condom package, I assume.

  "You are such a good girl," he exclaims before I can feel the tip of his hard cock at my entrance. "You deserve this, you truly do."

  I arch my back, inviting him in. But he needs no more invitation and begging. With one forceful push, he spreads me apart, easily sliding inside my wetness as I moan beneath him.

  I wish I could see him, but my vision is still concealed. He bends my legs and pushes them up to my chest to gain more leeway as he starts fucking me.

  He is big and stretching me well with every single one of his brute thrusts inside me. The pain is causing me to wince and cry. But soon, those cries turn into outbursts of release and lust as I take him in.

  I want to touch him, to see him – and neither is possible, because of my restraints. It drives me mad.

  His thrusts intensify, growing faster and deeper with every moment that passes. I feel my orgasm approaching, already.

  "Close your eyes!" he orders.

  "Why?" I blurt out. I am already blindfolded – what is this about?

  "Do it!" he adds, fucking me extra hard to underline his command.

  I do as I am told. And just a moment later, I come to understand his demand.

  He removes the blindfold from my eyes and even though the room is not brightly lit, my eyes need some adjusting, coming from complete darkness. I carefully open them and finally see him again.

  He is smiling down at me, his buff chest glistening with a hint of sweat. He is still holding my legs up, entering me as deeply as possible with every shove.

  I can feel my entire center clenching around him, edging him on.

  He leans forward to kiss me, his tongue invading my mouth while he continues to fuck me mercilessly.

  "I'm gonna c –"

  "Oh, yes you will," he interrupts me.

  He straightens up and moves his right hand toward my center.

  I let out a cry of lust when he starts rubbing my clit while shoving his beautiful, rock hard erection inside
me.

  "You are going to come," he hisses. "Because I want you to!"

  His words and his hand on my clit are all I needed. I groan and arch my back, throwing my head back as far as possible, as my orgasm claims control of me.

  I come hard, my muscles clenching around him as if my body is trying to trap him, to make him stay there forever.

  And he feels it. Through half closed eyes, I can see him lose control as well, as he finds his release inside me. I cannot believe we are actually climaxing together, both moaning and groaning, insane with lust and release.

  This has never happened to me before. Not like this. Not after I just met someone.

  Then again, there have been a lot of firsts this night.

  ***

  I return home the next morning, unsure what to tell Yuka. That I have had a one-night stand? It would not be the first, even after the short time we have lived together – though I am not proud to admit that.

  But what happened between me and Evan last night appears to be so much more. The sex was so intense, so different, so intimate. As if I have known him forever.

  After our first climax together, he untied my sore wrists and we took advantage of the whirlpool in his luxury hotel room. He wrapped his strong arms around me and his hands soon wandered off to other places, teasing and caressing my most sensitive spot. There was nothing I could do. He made me come again, one hand closing around my throat to gently choke me while the other played havoc with my swollen clit. I didn’t think I’d have another in me, but he proved me wrong.

  I was worn out, tired, but completely satisfied when he wrapped me in a soft, giant towel afterwards and – despite my protest – put me into bed next to him, where I dozed off in his arms.

  There are so many questions I want to ask him. But he was unwilling to answer any of them. He hushed me last night, and he did it again this morning. He also insisted on his "No fights" rule and ignored my protest when he called a car to take me home. Not a cab, no, a limousine.

  "You don't have to impress me anymore," I joked as he accompanied me downstairs to the lobby. "You got what you wanted, remember?”