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The Billionaire's Trust (His Submissive #11) Page 9
Author: Ava Claire

I blinked, heat making every part of me hot and bothered. I was all but panting, clawing my clothes off so he could see what he did to me. Just how ready I was.

An older man was staring at me strangely, almost like he could see right through my clothes; see the gears turning in my head, so I looked away before I could blush and confirm his suspicions.

When I saw a familiar face, the sides of my mouth stretched up a few inches. The glow of recognition colored her pale features and she returned the smile, moving in my direction.

She extended her hand. “Miss Montgomery!”

I shook it heartily with a laugh. “Leila.” The ‘Miss Montgomery’ stuff was awkward as her handing over the envelope when we met. The envelope that contained concise then ridiculous instructions.

Remove your bra and panties prior to boarding.

Funny, now I’d gladly remove that and more.

I shushed the overly horny part of me and tried to focus on what Maggie was saying.

“...and I guess congratulations are in order!”

I shifted my weight with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Thank you.” Uncomfortable was modest. Suddenly very un-exciting parts of me were wet--like my palms, sticky with sweat. I was gritting my teeth behind my lips because I knew what question would come next.

“How are the wedding plans coming along?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I”m sure you have something beautiful and extravagant planned.” She leaned in, bringing an air of perfume and a new wave of queasiness rocking through me.

“Between you and me, I knew that you two would end up together. Your chemistry was off the charts.”

The blush had nowhere else to go. I was red all over and I opened my mouth and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Jacob coming through the sliding doors. She followed my line of sight and something about good to see me or privacy or good luck or something irrelevant. At that moment, everything but Jacob was irrelevant.

I wasn’t sure how he could turn a white button down shirt and khakis into sex, but I felt like I could already feel him slick against me. Inside me. And when our eyes locked, I had to root myself in place so I didn’t dash over and jump his bones on the spot. The dark waves that framed his handsome face seemed longer than I remembered and he was rocking a bit of stubble that gave him a rugged edge that suited him well.

My brain functioned long enough for me to take a few steps forward. I opened my mouth, not even caring that a bumbled mess was about to come out, but he just rounded an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, lips crushing against mine.

Tongue in my mouth.

Body pulsating as his masculine scent hung in the air around me.

We were in public and making love with our mouths, our hands, and I didn’t care. HIs hands drew up from my behind and I exhaled a moan as he cupped my cheeks, coming up for air.

“Come with me.”

My first thought was ‘hell yes!’ but I was still solidly dazed and aroused and trying to remember how to do anything but kiss him. And now that I knew he was back and missed me, wanted me as much as I wanted him, I had to remind myself to breathe in and out so I didn’t pass out.

I gripped his hand, not paying much attention to where we were headed. To be honest, I’d follow him right off a cliff. I wasn’t thinking clearly or rationally at that moment--and it suited me just fine.

And then I blinked and saw the sign indicating we were heading in the direction of the bathroom.

I was sobering up, but I shrugged off the tiny voice that whispered we were about to out-do every public display of sexiness. I wouldn’t let myself believe it until I followed him into the men’s bathroom.

He didn’t check the room for any other people, he just pushed me back against the door and reclaimed my lips. My eyes were open, wide and unsure as I took in the surroundings. Rich people really did have it better. If I walked into the bathroom in the main terminal I’d instantly want to take a Purell bath. Here, the bathroom was like a freaking hotel. Pedestal sinks, hand towels instead of paper towels. Glittering chrome fixtures. There was even some classical music flowing from speakers above us.

Jacob paused, his eyes hot with disapproval as he looked down at me. “Where are you, Leila?”

“I’m here.” In the bathroom. “I just--”

“Are concerned about our location?”

The fact that his fingers were already at my zipper, pulling it down, told me he wasn’t. “I’ve been thinking about being with you, touching you since I got on the plane a week ago. I’m not waiting one more second.”

I felt the whispers of protest on my tongue. I wanted him, God I wanted him--but in the car or at least in a room where we could lock the door. Yet as soon as my dress puddled at my feet and he let out a deep, rumbling groan of approval, I said the hell with it.

Let them walk in. We’ll give them a hell of a show.

He gripped my breast, kneading it as a finger flicked over the nipple. “Good girl.”

I reached forward, hand cupping his erection. “I don’t want to be good.” I watched the wild lust stampede across his usually controlled expression, setting his eyes on fire when I undid his belt. “I want to be bad. I want to be punished.”

He closed his eyes as I stroked him, giving in for a few minutes, for a few blissful moments before his hand abandoned my breast and gripped a fistful of my hair, tugging my head toward him until pain rippled across my scalp and met the wetness growing between my thighs.

“You like provoking me, don’t you?”

“I love it,” I said hoarsely. Defiantly. Knowing he loved it too. Loved my headstrong spirit. Loved it when I disobeyed or forget to ask his permission so he could punish me.

He released me, pulling his belt loose. “Go over to that chair. Hand on the cushion. Ass facing me. Count every strike.”

Human nature amped up my nerves as it sunk in that he was about to use the belt on me, but I practically ran to the chair, wasting no time before I put both hands down, bottom up and waiting.

As much as I liked to pretend I forgot my training to get a rise out of him, I knew how important it was to count. It would give me something to concentrate on besides the fear that bubbled in my gut and the sting of the leather, but it also grounded him.

The whistle cut through the silence. When it collided with my flesh, the hiss of pain became a shout.

“One.”

We didn’t make it past five before I was using the color. His eyes were wild, crazed with a need that could have made me cl**ax all by itself. And then I saw him bulging, every inch solid. Lips, core, ass--I didn’t care. I just wanted him. I stepped forward, catching his eye as my lips trembled with anticipation. I was sure that he was about to corder me to my knees, but I was wrong.

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Ava Claire's Novels
» The Billionaire's Contract (His Submissive #1)
» The Billionaire's Touch (His Submissive #2)
» The Billionaire's Wife (Part Two)
» The Billionaire's Passion (His Submissive #3)
» The Billionaire's Wife (The Billionaire's Wife #1)
» The Billionaire's Heart (His Submissive #4)
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» Waiting For Forever (Beautiful Surrender #4)
» The Billionaire's Girlfriend (His Submissive #5)
» Waiting For Us (Beautiful Surrender #3)
» The Billionaire's Secret (His Submissive #6)
» Waiting For Me (Beautiful Surrender #2)
» The Billionaire's Lust (His Submissive #7)
» Waiting For You (Beautiful Surrender #1)
» The Billionaire's Promise (His Submissive #8)
» The Billionaire's Desire (His Submissive #9)
» The Billionaire's Past (His Submissive #10)
» The Billionaire's Trust (His Submissive #11)
» The Billionaire's Forever (His Submissive #12)