The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele

45

Weston

"I am going to fuck you with my tongue." I take in her flushed face, her parted lips, her heaving breasts, "You ready, Princess?"

She blinks. "Do I have a choice?" she moans.

"Nope." I smile in anticipation, smack my lips together. Her breathing grows shallow, she licks her lower lip mirroring my desire, and my cock throbs, reminding me I needed to get on with the program. I'd promised to clean her up, before filling her up again, and I'm a man of my word—when it suits me, of course. I smirk, thrust my face into her pussy and close my mouth around her cunt. She moans, her thighs tremble, and liquid heat streams from her wet channel. I slurp it up, shove my tongue inside her cunt, mirror how I want to fuck her with my shaft—in-out-in— until her entire body shudders, and again.

She groans. "Weston, please..." she whines.

Yeah, I know the feeling. I reach down to grab my cock, pump it once, scoop up some of the pre-cum from the weeping head, then slide my fingers inside her backhole.

"Oh," she wheezes, then pounds her tiny fist into the table, "I'm coming, I'm—"

I tear my mouth from her pussy, grasp her waist and haul her off of the table and onto her feet in front of me. Her legs seem to give way. I hold her up, kick her legs apart, then scoop up her cum and ease it into her backhole.

"Wes..." she moans, "I haven't... I mean... I can't..."

"You can," I growl.

I add a second finger inside of her, and she groans, "It's too much...It's—"

"Not enough." I pull out my fingers, scoop up some of the mushed-up apple and smear it into her puckered hole.

"Oh." She grips the edge of the table, lowers her chin to her chest.

"Relax," I command, then press my palm into the center of her spine. I apply pressure and she bends over, placing her cheek on the table.

"Beautiful." I praise her.

She pushes her hair behind her ear. "Be gentle." she whispers.

"Is that what you want?" I stare at her, "Is that what you truly want, Princess?"

She swallows, then squeezes her eyes shut.

"Tell me," I repeat. "You wanted to take the lead. This is me giving you the choice to direct the proceedings. Do you want it tender or do you want me to take you like you are mine?"

She nods.

"Which one?" I ask.

"Both," she replies. "I want you to take me like I am yours, and I want to take it like you are mine." She cracks her eyelids open. "Please," she whispers.

My heart begins to race, my chest tightens, and something hot twists my heart. Fuck. Emotions, feelings, a strange melting sensation that steals up my spine, encircles my ribcage, bears down on my shoulders. I bend over her, until my chest is flush with her back, "You fucking destroy me, you know that?" I press my lips to hers and kiss her. I wrap my fingers around the nape of her neck, tilt my head, ease my tongue inside her mouth, and open myself up to her.

She draws in a breath—my breath, then parts her lips, sucks on my tongue and kisses me back. That melting sensation? It extends to my stomach, my belly, my extremities.

I ease my dick inside her puckered hole.

She groans. I swallow the small sound, bring my hand around to strum her cunt. Good thing it’s only my middle finger which is broken. Leaves me plenty of others to play with her clit, slide my forefinger into her pussy, and begin to finger fuck her. She parts her legs, opens her mouth wider. I kiss her in earnest, dance my tongue over hers, allow her to drink from me as I thrust my hips and notch my dick further inside of her. A whine wells up her throat. I drink of it, wind my fingers about her neck, and apply pressure.

Her pulse races at the base of her throat and her chest rises and falls. I slide my thumb inside her pussy, scissor my fingers in her channel. She groans, clenches around my dick, and I fucking see stars. Sweat beads my upper lip, slides down my temple. I dig my heels into the floor, flex my thighs, wait...wait for her to adjust to my size, tear my mouth from hers and kiss her nose, her cheek, her eyelashes, which flutter. "You're perfect, Princess," I whisper, "gorgeous, beautiful, inside and out."

She shudders, opens her mouth, then closes it again. I kiss her on her lips, on her chin, nibble my way up to her earlobe and suck on it.

A moan wheezes from her.

I ease my tongue inside her ear and she trembles. Drag my tongue about the shell of her ear and her entire body bucks. I bite down on her earlobe and she cries out. Her inner muscles give and I slip inside, filling her to the hilt.

A groan erupts from me... Or maybe that was her.

"Jesus." I press my cheek to hers, "You're so tight, so hot...so much everything." My pulse begin to race. "I want you." I mumble half to myself, "I've never needed anything as much as I need you. I have to fuck you, make you mine as completely as I am yours."

She draws in a breath. "Why," she asks, "why do you want me?"

"Because I love you." I snap my eyes open, "Of course, whatever is said in coitus...stays in coitus." I mutter, "I mean, anything said in the heat of passion is—"

"The naked truth?" She stares at me from under hooded eyes. "Will you get out of your own way for bloody once and accept what it is you feel for me?" she snaps.

I glare back at her, but she doesn't back down, "Admit it, alphahole, you fucking love me."

"Love to fuck you," I agree.

"You ache for me." Her lips quirk.

"For the rapier-sharp edge of your mind that I love to challenge."

"You can't live without me," her voice is smug.

I scowl. "Adore your pussy." I rotate my fingers inside of her, and color smears her cheeks. "And your arse, which belongs to me, by the way," I inform her, even as I pull out, then thrust inside her with enough impact that her entire body jolts up the table.

"Stop deflecting," she pants.

"Stop talking," I retort.

"Thought you loved my sassy comebacks," she mutters.

"Love your sassy arse." I propel my hips forward, begin to fuck her in earnest.

Her eyes roll back in her head. "Fuck," she groans, "it hurts."

I frown, begin to pull out, "Maybe I should have waited... Should have prepared you better. I could—"

She lowers her chin, trains those blue eyes on me. "Don't you dare," she growls. "You bloody well finish what you fucking started."

Thank fuck.My dick lengthens. I grit my teeth, stay poised at her entrance.

"Another thing I crush on..." I force the words out through gritted teeth, "Who'd have thought your potty mouth would turn me so on?"

"Thought it was all of me? The entire package?" She flutters her eyelashes at me. "Come on, give credit where it's due, Doc. Give me the satisfaction of hearing it from the horse's mouth."

"You calling me a horse?" I arch an eyebrow, then thrust forward and inside of her.

"Oh." She squeezes her eyes shut. "That..." she gulps, "that feels so fucking good."

She bites down on her lower lip, and fuck her, but I can't resist her when she does that. I lower my head, lick her mouth. "Look at me," I order.

She cracks open her eyelids, and those shining baby blues of her stare into my soul.

"Stay with me," I whisper, then propel my hips forward. My balls slap against the underside of her butt, and I sink into her. Her spine arches and her gaze grows frantic. A ripple speeds up her body. Oh, she's close, so close. I tear my mouth from hers. "Come," I growl, and her pussy clenches around my fingers.

Moisture slides out from between her thighs as she shudders. Her eyelids flutter and I click my tongue, "Open your eyes, darlin.'"

She tips her chin up, and I hold her gaze, as I thrust forward. My balls draw up, my cock lengthens, the tension in my groin explodes out, and I come inside of her.

I slump forward, hold my weight up on my elbows, then lower my lips to hers.

"Wow," she whispers against my mouth. "That was something."

"Yeah," I kiss her, "it was."

I pull out of her and she winces. I pull her up, then scoop her into my arms.

"You okay?"

She gazes up at me, her cheeks flushed, her hair stuck to her forehead, her eyes glazed.

"Princess?" I ask again. "Talk to me."

"Hmm." She snuggles into my chest. "Do I have to?" she mumbles, then yawns so loudly her jaws crack.

"I wore you out, huh?" I stalk out of the kitchen.

"Where are you...going?" She yawns again.

"Where’s the shower?" I ask.

"Mmmm... That way." She jerks her chin to the side.

I walk down the hallway, reach the bathroom door and shoulder it open.

"I don't think I can stay awake." Her eyelids flutter.

"Just as long as you're awake when I fuck you again."

Okay, maybe not. I prop her up in the shower, turn on the water, soap her up, and wash every inch of her delectable body. She falls asleep in my arms halfway through. That doesn't stop me from slipping my throbbing dick inside of her and taking her. Or again later... When I've dried her and myself off and pulled the covers over her naked body—after I've made sure to close and lock the door to her apartment and ensured all of the windows are safely shut—I slip in beside her, curl my body around hers and try to fall asleep.

Only I can't, because I have a raging hard-on. Her proximity does that to me—turns me on, twists me inside out until I am sure I am one big, seething mass of need. I pull her leg up and over my hip, then guide myself inside of her soft pussy. A sense of peace, of rightness, steals over me. Fuck, this is what I've been missing all along—this melding sensation as I sink into her melting channel, and finish myself off in a few strokes, as I orgasm inside of her and she stirs. I curve my arm around her waist, pull her close and fall asleep with my dick nestled within her warmth.

Twelve o'clock.

Eleven o'clock.

Ten o'clock.

The goddam timer—an old fashioned clock fitted to run backwards—as my kidnapper had informed me, never stops counting down.

Every hour it helpfully rings out the time, so even though I am blindfolded, I have no choice but to follow along in my head.

Nine o'clock

Eight o'clock

Seven o'clock

Every hour brings me closer to the time when my kidnapper is going to come through the door.

Six o'clock

Five o'clock

Four o'clock

Twelve hours, that's how long he'd said he'd be away.

Three o' clock

Two o'clock

One o'clock

The timer passes the twelve-hour mark, and stops. The silence stretches. A beat, another.

My heart begins to race and sweat pools in my armpits. I tug my wrists against my bindings, and pain shoots up my arms. I draw in a breath and the acrid taste of fear fills my mouth. Something is wrong.

Why hasn't the bomb gone off as he'd said it would? Why hasn't my kidnapper returned for that matter? My throat closes, my hands and feet grow cold.

Today, I won't survive the beating. Today, something is different. Today is the day when he finishes it. When he doesn't stop electrocuting me until...my heart gives out.

My heart pounds in my chest, my pulse races, and my stomach coils in knots. The pressure builds at my temples. What's he going to do to me when he gets here?

My head spins and coldness grips my arms and legs... I won't last the day. I have to get through today. Need to focus, focus. Stay still; count down again.

Twelve o'clock.

Eleven o'clock.

Ten o'clock.

My heart beat slows and my pulse steadies. How strange. My biggest nemesis is also the only way I can calm my mind. Stay still, in the moment. You can't give up. Not yet. The door creaks open. I jolt upright. The change in the air indicates he's in the room. Footsteps approach as the door snicks shut. The hair at the back of my neck rises. Fuck. He's here, he's going to hit me...any moment. The floorboard creaks to my right, to the left, behind me. He circles me, comes closer.

"What should I do with you?" he mutters. "Leave you in your filth or put you out of your misery?"

Let me go, I try to say, the words muffled by my gag. Let me the fuck go, you asshole.

"Weston. Weston," he says. "When will you realize that resistance is futile?"

I yank my wrists against my bindings, strain the muscles of my legs. The ropes around my ankles dig into my skin. The ticking of the clock around my chest fills my ears...my mind. It grows louder, ricocheting inside of my head. The fuck is he up to? Why the hell is he not untying me?

He pats my head; I jerk away. The time-bomb around my chest beeps.

"Oops," he laughs, "sorry." He chuckles, "Forgot for a second there that you had to be absolutely still." He shuffles his feet, "Remember what I said about your being let go in twelve hours?"

I nod.

"Guess what? Today is your lucky day."

I stiffen.

"Today is the day I leave you here, with an hour to countdown. When it hits one o'clock... Boom!" He claps his hands together.

My shoulders bunch and the blood pumps in my ears. My heart hammers so loud, I am sure I am going to be sick. Let me out of here. Let me out.

"Sorry, my boy. Some things are best left up to fate, you understand?"

No. What the fuck is he talking about? I lean forward, shake my head. No, don't leave me here, don't.

His footsteps recede.

Stop. Don't go.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you." His voice reaches me from the direction of the doorway.

"If you're lucky, the bomb may not go off."

Bloody piece of shit, he's fucking toying with me. It won't go off. It won't. The door shuts behind him, leaving me with the ticking of the bloody clock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Three o'clock.

Two 'o clock.

So close. An hour to countdown. An hour to my death. Or not? Any moment now. Any moment.

"Weston?" A man's voice calls out, "Weston, you in there?"

The door slams open and I jerk up.

"What the fuck?"

Stay back, don't come close. The bomb—it's going to detonate, it's going to—

"Weston?"

I tug on my bindings, but they don't give. Fuck this, if I'm going to die, I'm not taking another innocent life down with me. The ticking of the bomb seems to get louder... Or is that hammering in my chest? Sweat slithers down my spine. I tug my feet, strain at my restraints. The chair lurches forward. Tick-tock-tick-tock. The timebomb stops. Then—

"Weston?"

I snap my eyes open.

"Wes?" Her worried gaze holds mine. Her blonde hair is tangled about her shoulders. I rake my gaze down to her bare breasts, to her belly, to where her thighs grip my waist.

"Wes?" She reaches down to touch my face.

I pull away. "Don't," I clear my throat.

"You going to tell me about what happened when you were kidnapped?" she prods. "Is that what your nightmare was about?"

"What's it to you?" I grind my teeth together so hard that pain shoots up my jaw.

"You have to ask me that, after everything we've been through? After you told me that you love me?"

"About that..." I frown, "I didn't—"

"Shut up," she snaps.

"The fuck?" I growl, "You dare tell me to shut up?"

"Oh, I dare more." She smirks. "I dare to fuck you while you are tied up."

"Tied up?" I frown, then pull at my arms, which are bound above me. I glance up, tug at one leg, then the other. "You bound me to the bed?"

"Close." She smiles, "I bound you to the bed spread-eagled."