Page 17 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

But anyway, the belated moral of that story was: “Maybe don’t combine sexual experimentation with being off your face.” Because, it turned out, thiswaseverything it was cracked up to be. And a bag of chips. I couldn’t have told you precisely what she was doing back there—only that it was magic. The tug of her mouth and the prod of her tongue and these long, decadent licks that turned the path from my arse to my balls into a tramline of shuddery bliss.

The thing was, I just wasn’t prepared for the pleasure. On any level. Physically, I was making the most outrageous fuss about it—thrashing and bucking in my bonds, and wailing with every fresh touch, as the sweat slid down my back—and emotionally was even worse. It was like I didn’t know how to process nice things anymore. Which made no sense because I’d always been a total fan of them before. But I guess feeling them now would have been letting go of Caspian.

Fuuuuuck.I thought I’ddonethat. What with the being dumped and him being engaged and everything. Except I’d always taken pain for him. Even, apparently, when he didn’t need me to.

I heard myself sobbing in a sort of heartbroken but also turned on beyond all reason kind of way. George curved a palm soothingly over my upturned cheeks. Which wasn’t much of a respite, but truthfully, I didn’t really want one. If nothing else, I could recognise a gift when it was offered. And this was its own special torment—a Sisyphean arousal that made it impossible for me to escape my body. It kept me helpless and frantic and wrecked. And took away everything else.

No regrets. No grief. No Caspian.

A pause.

“N-no. Please.” I had no idea what I was even begging for. Only that I couldn’t stop myself.

George gave a soft chuckle. And then came something new: the cool slap of leather tails against my sweaty, quivering arse. It wasn’t a hard blow, but the contrast was instantly the most amazing thing I’d ever felt. I melted against the table, moaning and bouncing my hips in a shameless entreaty for more.

And I got it. A rain of strikes that fell, at first, fast and light. Followed by slower, stronger ones that thudded into me, leaving rich, warm aches behind them. It hurt. But it was the good kind of hurt. The best kind of hurt. The flying kind. And sometimes, one of the tips would flick against my kiss-swollen hole with a sizzle like water hitting hot oil. Making me wail with the pure fucking joy of it.

Time became the gaps between blows. My heart beat for the moment of their landing. Until everything stopped. Well, everything except the pain, which was layered into me so deep and thick it kept right on burning. I was dimly aware someone was crying.

Oh. It was me.

“You’re so very pretty, poppet,” whispered George, “when you’re breaking.”

One of her hands closed around my cock. And two strokes later I was coming everywhere. I hadn’t even realised I was close until it was happening. As if even my orgasm didn’t quite belong to me. My suffering transmuted into ecstasy and released, bright-feathered, like a bird from a cage.

A few clinks and tugs and there was enough slack in the chains for me to sink gently onto my face, basically a puddle. A minute or so later, George pulled herself onto the table beside me, peeled me up, and helped me to lie with my head in her lap.

“What about you?” I asked, or rather slurred, groping for her erection with all the poise of a kitten chasing a piece of string.

She caught my wrist and pushed it back down against the leather. “Sex is more than ejaculation.”

I shivered happily at that. Honestly, I still thought I’d got the better bargain, but I wasn’t in any state to debate the point. The room was warm. And so was George. Her leg under my cheek and the hand she was resting on my shoulder. Everything was wonderfully quiet. It settled over me. Pressed into me. My mouth tasted of tears. My eyes were heavy and sticky under the blindfold. But I was okay, drifting through a soft, grey haze, hurting, exhausted, and satisfied.

Chapter 6

When next I stirred, I was unchained, and the blindfold was gone, and the studio was silver washed with starlight. I jumped off George’s lap with a yelp.

“Oh God. Sorry.”

“For what?”

I clutched at the blanket that had been draped over my shoulders. “For totally passing out on you.”

“I take it as a compliment, poppet.”

“I, uh, I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.” She drew me in and kissed the corner of my mouth. “You’re terribly sweet and terribly sexy. And I’ve barely scraped the surface of what I want to do to you.”

My cock liked the sound of that and made its opinion known without consulting the rest of me. “W-what do you have in mind?”

I caught the gleam of her smile through the shadows. “A lady must have her secrets.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“And you’re only just beginning to figure that out?”

I gave her a pert look. “You know, there’s plenty I’d like to do to you as well.”

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