His Vengeance: The Alpha Billionaire's Revenge Complete Series Page 3

  The finger left her clit, the hand exited her skirt, and then his palm was brushing her nipple again. Linnea cried out. She couldn't help it.

  His voice halted. Her nipple was pinched. "Shush," he whispered in her ear. "I'm just playing with you. Sit still and be quiet."

  Linnea tried. Dimly she heard his voice resume talking. He sounded normal, impressively professional and businesslike. She knew his brain was working. Hers wasn't. She couldn't multitask, never had been able to. And she definitely couldn't do it with her nipples being pinched.

  When his hand wandered down into her skirt again, she stuck a fist into her mouth, anticipating what was coming. She knew she was moving on his lap like a belly dancer now, unable to sit still. But she had to be quiet, because if she made a sound after he'd told her not to, then she suspected there would be consequences that would be even more tormenting than this.

  This time, he didn't touch her through the tights except for a brief moment. The tights were swiftly pulled down to her knees, causing her to bounce on his lap. Then his fingers were burrowing inside the crotch of the panties and for the first time, they made direct contact with her clit.

  Linnea blushed because she knew her pussy was soaking wet. She could tell from the sound even if not for the slick way his fingertips slid over her skin.

  "I think we can work out a deal," he was saying, even as he circled her clit around and around, stopping to flick it a few times and then circling again.

  Her inner body tightened in a feeling she recognized. Linnea didn't have orgasms frequently, but she knew how they felt. She could tell her body was straining toward one. And it wasn't the usual kind. Generally her orgasms were pleasant spasms that shook her and made her mildly excited. The feelings building inside her now made her feel exhilarated, thrilled, and almost afraid.

  Then the hand abandoned her skirt and went back to her breast.

  Her hips jerked in protest and crushing disappointment. She felt her own wetness on her nipples as he spread it over her flesh. Then she felt him reach between her legs again and he—no. It was only to gather up more of her wetness and spread it on her breasts. She watched his hand with a kind of sick fascination as it went back and forth in what had clearly become a game for him. Scoop up wetness from her vulva, swipe by her clitoris, smear her nipples with it. Again and again.

  At some point she became aware he'd stopped talking. The phone was back on his desk. He was chuckling in her ear. Saying something about fun.

  What a nice plaything.

  The anguish that went through Linnea at that moment was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was humiliation. Arousal. Need. Desperation. Loss.

  She turned her face and pushed her nose into his chest. Burrowed it there. Tried to hide, even as her hips thrust, trying to ease the ache.

  He chuckled again. "All right, little cat. I think you're horny enough. You did very well. Would you like to come now? Do you want an orgasm?"

  She was too choked up to answer.

  "Remember, Linnea, there are consequences for not doing what I say," he breathed in her ear. "And I already told you to answer my questions."

  "Yes," she managed against her knuckles.

  "Yes, what?" he prompted.

  "Yes, I want one."

  "Want one what?" He circled her nipple with a wet finger.

  "Orgasm."

  "Now say it all together, and add my name at the end."

  "Yes, I want one. An orgasm. Jonas."

  "My God, you're sweet. I'm going to allow you to come, Linnea. You've been impressively compliant. Done everything I've asked. I'm actually astonished. So I'm going to grant you a favor. That's what we're going to call it from now on. When you want an orgasm, you may ask me for a favor. Because that's what it is. Do you understand? You're here to suffer. Not for pleasure. So any time I decide to make you feel good, I'm doing you a favor. Got that?"

  She sucked in a breath. He was diabolical. "Yes," she said numbly.

  "Spread your legs."

  She moved her thighs apart as much as she could.

  "Excited, aren't you? How long has it been since you've had an orgasm, Linnea?"

  "I don't remember."

  His hand slid up her skirt and he cupped her pussy lightly. "Give me a rough estimate. A day? A week?"

  "Three months. Maybe six. I don't know."

  "Seriously? They did say you were supposed to be uninterested in sex, but I didn't believe them." His finger began to work her clitoris again. "I'm having trouble buying it. You're like a rocket. Your pussy is seriously dripping. I don't think you're going to be content to wait another six months before you have another one," he added, amusement in his tone.

  She wanted to scream at him to stop his teasing. To elbow him and make him stop talking, push up her skirt, undo his fly and just put his cock into her.

  But she didn't. The shock of what he'd told her, of what he was demanding of her, was still working through her system and she was in an unaccustomed passive mode.

  "No, you're going to be wanting orgasms frequently. So here's the thing, Linnea. Soon you'll get that favor. But you'd better enjoy it. Savor it. Because after you come, I'm going to send you on your way home. My men will go with you. They're going to be staying at your place for a while. They'll be working in shifts. Watching you. They'll be in the bedroom with you when you're sleeping, making sure you don't touch yourself. They'll be timing you in the shower, to make sure you don't—"

  "No! No, no, no!" Linnea began to struggle in his lap. "No, don't you dare. I can't do that. No!"

  "Shh. Calm down. My God, you're a wildcat when you're frustrated. What's wrong? You don't want my team there? You can trust them, sweetheart. They won't hurt you. They're just there to keep you from disobeying me."

  "No! No! I won't do it!" She couldn't stop saying it. Her passivity had broken with his appalling words. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Her body was bucking, desperately trying to find relief against his continually-caressing fingers, while her mind was balking in horror at the idea of being watched by his employees in that way. She'd reached her limits of tolerance in less than an hour with this man.

  "Hmm." He nipped at her earlobe. "This is a bit beyond the reaction I expected. All right, little cat. I'll tell you what. I'll have you set up with security cameras. They'll have to be in every room of your house. I don't know what the fuck else to do."

  "Will I have security cameras in my car, too?" she said bitterly.

  "That's a good question. What to do when you're out and about? I'm tempted to go with a chastity belt. You're having a hard time controlling your lust. I have the feeling that as soon as you get yourself alone, your hands are going to want to go down here where mine is now and relieve some of the ache. Because there will be ache. One little orgasm isn't going to be enough for you, my hungry little plaything. You're already far more lusty than I expected, and I expected a lot of lust. But I'll hold off on the chastity belt thing for now. We'll see how it goes."

  The hand slid out from her pussy again and was now back to teasing her nipples.

  "Please," she said. "Please."

  "All right, since you're begging very sweetly, I'm going to give you that favor now. Even though, Linnea, even though you almost made me change my mind with your attitude." He pinched both her nipples hard.

  She couldn't help herself. "You bastard. You fucking bastard."

  He laughed without amusement. "Absolutely that. I hope you weren't under the impression that I was a nice guy. Even when people don't try to destroy my family, I'm not much of a prize in the sensitivity department. You, though, are special. Now say, 'I've been a good girl so I think I deserve a small favor,'" he murmured.

  Linnea said it stoically, swiftly, without giving herself time to be shamed as he no doubt intended.

  "And you do," he crooned into her ear. And then he was probing, his long finger easing into her passage, and another was added to it, stretching her exquisitely, and Linnea's whole body clenched in impossible delight. Those fingers began to drive in and out and at the same time his other hand massaged her swollen clit.

  Linnea cried out helplessly.

  She felt her hips jerked backward by the fingers that were fucking her. He was grinding his erection against her ass even as she exploded, bucking against him. Her shoulder felt the sting of his teeth where he bit her. She heard him make a controlled grunting noise. A distant part of her was astounded, because even though she'd felt his arousal she hadn't thought he was really affected by it. But by his sounds and movements, he seemed almost as lust-gone as she was.

  But most of her mind was taken up with just absorbing the pleasure of her orgasm. It was nearly too much. The most intensely wonderful feelings ever, clenching in her core and rippling out from there in every direction, made even better by the unrelenting movements of his hand as he pumped it into her over and over.

  CHAPTER 5

  FINALLY, FINALLY SHE SETTLED down. Getting her breath back was a long process. She became aware that his sticky hands were rubbing her torso, gentling her breasts, and she could smell herself.

  "Shit, I want you," he murmured. "I want to fuck my plaything."

  "Don't call me that," she panted.

  "Playthings don't give orders," he said in a warning tone. "Fuck it all. I don't have any condoms here."

  The disgruntled tone made her laugh. Just like a frat boy, he was whining about not having a condom. "You don't normally have sex in your office?"

  "Never," he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice. "I expected to get you off and then send you home. But you surprised me. I'm tempted to have somebody bring me a rubber while you sit there like that reeking of your pussy juices. But I think you've suffered enough for now."

&n
bsp; "You're so charming," she said.

  "Mm, sarcastic little bitch you're turning out to be, aren't you? Not exactly the meek plaything I thought I was getting at first. I guess it was too good to be true. All right, I'll spare you the humiliation of my staff tonight. But that leaves me with a problem. I'm so hard I'm hurting. What shall I do about it?"

  "Order me to give you a blow job," she said bitterly. "I'm sure that's the kind of thing you're looking forward to."

  "That's where you're wrong," he said surprisingly. "I've decided our agreement doesn't cover blow jobs. There's suffering I like, and there's suffering I don't like. You see, Ms. Melbourne, I like blow jobs, but I don't like them to be given on sufferance. Fucking, though…I get to fuck you all I want."

  "And you hope I hate it and it hurts me."

  "Hate it, yes. Hurts you, no. My cock won't ever hurt you, sweetheart. My tongue, my mind, my hands, and your own urges…they'll hurt you."

  "You are a strange, vile man."

  "Me?" He kissed the back of her neck.

  "You."

  "Maybe that's why I'm still single despite my pot of gold."

  "You are?" She trembled at the feel of his soft lips brushing the nape of her neck.

  "Mm. Now plaything, I've decided what I'm going to do. Take off those tights completely. I want you to kneel down there in front of my chair. Just as if you were giving me a blow job. Now I want you to cup your tits. Yes, like that."

  He came forward to the edge of his seat. Linnea gaped at him as he unzipped his fly, let his cock free, and began to slowly stroke his own shaft. His member was as gorgeous as the rest of him, long and curved and thick. The sight of this striking man staring down at her, his eyes chilly and hot at the same time, while he aimed his cock at her chest and played with himself made her core tighten. She flushed at how raw the whole thing was, hardly believing what he was doing. This was even more shocking than her getting half naked. Than his bringing her to climax.

  "Put your hands on your head, Linnea."

  She supposed she should feel humiliated at the order, but somehow she didn't. She obeyed instantly, feeling only stimulated, excited by the idea of what was going to happen.

  His hand moved faster on his flesh. His gaze alternated between her face and her breasts. Abruptly his features tightened and he made a low, guttural sound. His hips jerked forward, a graceful and powerful movement. He cursed softly, and then his warm, wet seed hit her breasts.

  Her emotions as she felt and saw him coming all over her were complicated. Arousal was foremost. Shame had a part, but nowhere near as much as she expected. And she was disappointed. She hated that his hard-on was used up, that it meant he wasn't going to fuck her. And she hated herself for hating that. What had happened to her in the few minutes she'd been in this office? Had he given her some kind of seduction drug?

  The irony of that had her almost smiling, until she realized it wasn't ironic at all. Sex was a kind of drug, and he knew it, and that's why he was using it on her.

  Like for like.

  She felt an aching regret that she was only beginning to understand the power of sex right when it was being used against her.

  "Rub it into your tits, plaything," he said as he panted. "I want you smelling of me."

  Swallowing, she used her palms to do as he said.

  "Keep doing it," he said, even as he stood up, grabbed a tissue, wiped himself, and then neatly tucked himself away and zipped up his slacks. He walked across the room with that easy, long stride and didn't even watch her. Somehow having to keep rubbing his semen over herself while he ignored her was the worst thing he'd made her do yet. And being turned on by it made it even more awful.

  She pressed her lips together as he opened a door in the back of his office and went through it, closing the door behind him.

  A few minutes later, he returned. Stopped short. "Why did you stop?"

  She flushed. "You were gone."

  "Oh, now that's direct disobedience," he drawled. "Stand up, Linnea. Come here."

  Trembling, she did so.

  He looked her up and down, smiling. "You are filthy. You look like you've been wallowing in sex. You're getting addicted to it already, aren't you. Who knew?"

  "Do you know how much I'm beginning to hate you?"

  "Only beginning?" he taunted. "Now, Linnea, what penalty should you have to pay for disobeying me." It wasn't a question. He was obviously thinking to himself. "Hm. I think…yes, I think you're going to have to go home smelling like a whorehouse. I was going to let you wash up in my bathroom, spare you the embarrassment. But no. Not now."

  Her eyes teared up. "Damn you."

  His nostrils flared and she surprised a look of consternation in his eyes. "Well, what do you suggest? You need to suffer. It can't be something you like."

  "Take me home with you," she flung out bitterly. "You know I'd hate that."

  He went motionless. "The only women who come home with me are women I'm dating, not shagging. And you, plaything, are just an occasional shag."

  She lifted her chin. "Then— then I don't care, spank me. Isn't that the universal punishment? But let me wash myself. If I have to go out there smelling like this, I—I won't—" the words were choked up in her throat.

  "Sensitive, are you?"

  "It's humiliating," she said.

  "Music to my ears," he said. "Not that it's what I intended, precisely. You can't help that you're such an exquisite canvas to mark. The embarrassment is on my end, for not having a condom. But all right. A spanking it is." He went around to the front of his desk, to her surprise, and sat in the chair she'd sat in before. He patted his lap. "Down," he said cheerfully.

  "Asshole," she said resentfully as she bent over him, her bottom in the air. The fact that it was so easy to do and felt almost natural was disconcerting.

  "How rude of you." He pulled up her skirt, yanked down her panties, and the slow slide of his warm palm on her thighs and buttocks made her breathless. "Nice ass. Very nice. This will hurt somewhat," he added. "But mostly, I plan to turn you on again. Then, sweetheart, you can go wash up and then get out of here. Good plan?"

  "All ri—"

  The word was cut short as his hand smacked down hard on her butt cheek. The sting was incredible. Incredibly sharp, incredibly arousing. She moaned involuntarily.

  "Fuck," he said softly. Then delivered another smack on the other cheek.

  Back and forth he went. The smacks did hurt, but in a tingly way that Linnea found she liked very much. Too much. Humiliatingly much. Until she realized she was wiggling on his lap and breathing hard. When his fingers slipped between the lips of her cleft and sought her, she knew she was dripping wet.

  His indrawn breath said he knew it, too. "Fuck, now I'm turned on again, too. You're dangerous, plaything. You're not suffering enough. And I'm suffering too much." Laughter turned into hardened resolution. His fingers slid back and forth within her dripping cleft. Then suddenly one pussy-wet finger was poking at her anal opening. Linnea gasped in shock as the finger slowly entered her.

  "Playthings are for playing with," he muttered. "Not calling me asshole. Tell me what I'm doing," he clipped out.

  "You're touching me," she choked.

  "Where?"

  "In my…in my…"

  "Asshole. Say it, sweetheart."

  "In my asshole."

  "And is your cunt dripping wet?"

  "Yes."

  "And why am I finger-fucking your asshole?"

  Linnea couldn't bear it any longer. The stinging of her bottom cheeks. The ache in her pussy. The finger moving slowly in and out of her anus, where nobody, no object, had ever done anything like that.

  "Because I made a stupid decision," she bit out and bit his leg through the trousers.

  To her surprise, he laughed. And didn't stop what he was doing. "Tell me why, plaything. I'm not going to stop until you do."

  Damn him.

  "Because I wasn't suffering enough."

  "Are you suffering now?"

  "Yes, damn you."

  "Good. That turns me on even more." Wiggling his finger flamboyantly, he withdrew it from her body. "Come with me."

  Frustration screamed through her limbs as she followed him out the back office door and into an astoundingly luxurious bathroom suite. Bath. Shower. Jacuzzi. Marble. She stopped short. "My God. This place. You…"