Home > The Billionaire's Girlfriend (His Submissive #5)(7)

The Billionaire's Girlfriend (His Submissive #5)(7)
Author: Ava Claire

"Damn skippy!"

He let out a groan of frustration that tore into my ear and I held the phone a few inches away but didn't give in. I'd give him anything, but not this.

"I'm coming to the office," he said finally. "We'll finish this discussion face to face."

"If you think you'll wear me down you're in for a rude awakening,” I said stubbornly.

"We'll see, Miss Montgomery," he said with finality. "We'll see."

****

The office door swung open, a thunderclap echoing through the room as it collided with the wall. Jacob was dressed to kill, but his annoyance peeked out from behind his signature cool.

I marched to the desk where the manila folder glared up at me. I was going to toss it in his face, but two muscled Armani clad arms circled me.

Jacob pulled the folder from my hand and tossed it aside. "We don't need that."

"But-" Betraying tingles sparked between my legs. "I need to talk to you about-" I sighed in defeat as his fingers found the buttons of my blouse.

"Later." His hand slid inside the silk fabric and across my abdomen, pulling me back against his chest. I felt the curve of his erection pressing into me. "You see what you do to me?"

"Jacob-" It wasn't an admonishment, but a whispered plea. He knew very well that I couldn't think, couldn't breathe when he was so close. Not when there were only a few slips of clothing that separated me from him.

He forced me forward, bending me over the desk. I could still feel his raging desire and when I tried to use a hand to hike up my skirt he clucked his hand with disapproval. "No, Leila. Not yet."

"Not yet?" I said in a tiny voice, frustrated that I was whining and so willingly forgot how pissed I was with him. Frustrated that I wanted him to take me so bad that it hurt.

"Not yet," he said again, his deep voice hypnotic. "Though to be honest, I want nothing more than to plow inside you right now." His hand gripped my hips, sending a pang of pain, of pleasure, to join the chorus of other emotions he evoked. "But you'd enjoy that. And right now, for that little display earlier, you deserve punishment."

It was beautifully terrifying how that word could make me hot. "How will you punish me, Sir?"

The deep groan he let out made me smile. He loved it when I was headstrong, and doubly so when I submitted. The hand on my hip rounded the curve of my bottom. My answer was a resounding 'smack' and the firework of discomfort that accompanied it.

He leaned forward, his muscular body pressing mine into the desk. "Why am I spanking you?"

I drew a shaky breath, a second, a third when I felt him thumping against me. "Because I've been bad."

"And what happens to bad girls?"

My eyes rolled back in my head as he began rocking his h*ps forward, teasing me. "They're punished."

"That’s right." He stood upright, taking all the air from my lungs with him. I was hollow without him, missing the feel of him so much it made me shake. Relax, Lay. Soon you'll feel his hand again and you’ll regret it.

"I want you to count, understood?"

I licked my lips and braced myself. "Yes sir."

His hand whistled as it sliced toward my bottom. I gasped when it collided, swallowing before I said, "One."

Just as tears brimmed my eyes and I’d counted out the twentieth, he brought his hand to my back, caressing it. "You can stand."

It was easier said than done because my whole body seemed like a blob of gelatin. I tried to stand up right but my knees buckled. Jacob had me in his arms before I could even bat an eye.

He kissed my forehead and I nuzzled him, locking my arms around his neck. “Jacob.”

His blue eyes were bright with concern. "You should have used your color, Leila."

I shook my head. "I didn't want to stop." I peered up at him, on fire with need. "And I still don't."

Jacob was all hands and desire as I straddled him and sank onto him. He let out a sigh as he fell backward into the chair, locking his arms around my waist. I knew I was seeping into him; swallowing him in my depths and going to a place where there was nothing but our two bodies.

He took my mouth with a fevered urgency, like he was a dying man and my mouth his only salvation. I met his tongue, dancing and swirling in time as everything faded except for his body and my body and the maddening pulsing inside me. We found our fevered pace as I rocked my h*ps and pulled him in before slowly drawing him back out, watching the ticks and furrowed pleasure ripple across his face.

His fingers ran down my spine, pausing on the round curve of my bu**ocks while he whispered that he loved every inch of me, how I made him come alive. It was an exhilarating contradiction; him gripping my waist, digging his fingertips into my heated flesh and the sweet nothings that tugged at my heartstrings, The competing lash of controlled dominance and the powerlessness at the overwhelming love that I felt for him.

I could feel the tension, turning the air electric around us. Even with him deep inside the velvet contours of me, I pulled him deeper, closer, my nail clawing at his back. I got lost in him, mixing and swirling and morphing and changing as we climbed to the peak together.

His fingers threaded in my curls as he rained kisses up and down my neck. “Now what did you want to talk about again?”

I went rigid. How could a guy who’d just been so full of passion be so cold and dismissive? Without another word I stepped around him and snatched my skirt from the rumpled pile, turning my back to him as tears of shame burned in my eyes.

"Leila-"

"’Now what did I want to talk about again?’" I snapped, zipping my skirt in one vicious stroke. "Could you be anymore patronizing?"

I was mad at him, mad as hell even, but I was just as mad at myself. How could he take me seriously if I just melted every time he came within five feet? I couldn’t even look at him. I couldn’t even look at myself.

He put one hand on my shoulder, silently trying to get me to face him.  When I didn’t turn voluntarily, both hands pivoted me 180 degrees. Still, I kept my eyes on the floor.

"Look at me, Leila."

When I made no moves to obey, he caught my chin and tilted it upward. I rolled my eyes but when they were done with their rotation, I finally settled on his piercing gaze.

"I don't mean to be patronizing," he said, releasing me with a sigh. "Or to disrespect your wisesh. Hell, I thought I was granting your wish."

"But I told you no more favors." I caught the accusatory edge in my voice along with the tightening of his jaw. The wary expression he wore said the obvious—I could give an inch. Jacob was trying to say he was sorry, even if he was acting like saying the actual words were akin to water boarding. "Last night I thought I was being clear. I said I didn't want you to promote me because we were dating. When I get a promotion, I want to have worked for it."

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