Coerced (Billionaire romance)(3)
A desperate woman, that’s what kind.
And she was plenty desperate.
-2-
Bookmark: 2
Sutton couldn’t contain his brimming excitement, which in of itself was pretty surprising.
At thirty-five, a billionaire since before he was born, there was little he hadn’t experienced at this point.
Except this.
Two days had passed but against all odds, Elizabeth had accepted his offer.
When his phone had buzzed and he’d seen the unknown number, he’d instinctively known it was her even though he usually never answered unknown numbers.
Her tremulous voice in his ear had sparked an impossibly deep and violent spark of lust crackling through his body as his muscles went taut and his cock stiffened as surely as if her wet mouth were already on him.
“I’ll do it,” she’d said. “But I have questions.”
“Come to my office; I’ll answer any question you have.”
A beat followed with, “When?”
He grinned. “Now.”
And that was that. She was on her way. Already doing as she was told like a good little girl.
Sutton rubbed his cock through his slacks, unable to stop the giddy anticipation.
He should’ve tried something like this a long time ago. Just imagine the possibilities...
He’d heard rumors of his cousins doing the very thing he was about to do with one notable exception — he wasn’t going to fall for his plaything.
wThe rumor that Vince, Nolan and Dillon had once messed around with the same woman wasn’t something anyone talked about — if they were smart, that is — but rumors were sly bastards and still managed to circulate.
The fact that the woman in question was now Dillon’s wife was certainly something that everyone studiously avoided; Dillon had a quick temper and a vicious need to protect his precious wife from anything that might upset her.
Sutton supposed bringing up the fact that the beloved Penny Buchanan had once been a paid whore to the brothers might make dinner conversation awkward.
Not to mention the three brothers might tag-team the loose-lipped idiot with their fists.
And Sutton was no idiot.
Nor was he particularly judgmental. He didn’t give a shit that his cousin-in-law had fucked around with all three of his cousins. He had better, more interesting things to spend his mental energy.
Such as, just exactly how should he break in his lovely new plaything?
He’d need to have her fitted for new clothes of his choosing — lingerie most specifically — not to mention some fetish wear.
He’d always been particularly keen to have a pony girl in his possession. He wondered how quickly his little peach would protest at the idea of a bit and bridle? And a mane hanging from her lovely ass?
Maybe he’d take her to Malvagio.
The idea was a promising one. Malvagio...his cousins were being short-sighted in their desperate desire to unload the private, elite sex club.
To Sutton’s mind, the club was a perfect investment: the club made money hand-over-fist and it was wicked fun, too. What’s not to like?
The blowjobs alone were worth it! The women invited to play at Malvagio knew how to suck the chrome from a ball hitch.
Jesus, the last time he was there a delicious sub named Sapphire (clearly not her real name) gleefully stuck her finger up his ass while sucking him off, sending him into orbit as he flooded her lovely throat with hot jizz.
God, it’d been sublime.
He hadn’t thought to ask Elizabeth if she were still a virgin or what her sexual experience included but wouldn’t it be a happy surprise if she were a virgin?
He liked the idea of being her first. It must play to his primal sense of RAWR-I’m-a-caveman ancestry buried in his DNA.
He desperately wanted to be the first man to split her open. Jesus, that idea was hotter than fuck. Hotter than little Sapphire’s finger-in-his-ass trick.
He swallowed and glanced at the clock. He had to get his shit together. It wouldn’t do for Elizabeth to see him so undone.
The Buchanans were known in the business world as sharks; they didn’t quail in negotiations and they didn’t show weakness.
He made quick work of refreshing himself in his adjoining corporate restroom and none too soon.
His secretary announced that Elizabeth Downing was in the lobby to see him.
That damnable urge to grin returned and he smothered it with great effort.
“Send her in,” he said into his intercom, then lounged in his giant leather chair, hungry for what was to come but careful to hide his anticipation with a practiced poker face.
But he wasn’t prepared for the shocking jolt to his system.
She entered his office, looking fresh, virginal — like a plump lamb to slaughter — wearing a sweet, slightly faded, yellow sundress that dusted her knees and showed off shapely legs that only sent his imagination soaring.
Her blonde hair tumbled down her back, just as it had when he’d first seen her, and he couldn’t stop his mind from conjuring just how amazing it would feel twisted in his hand.
“Close the door and lock it,” he instructed, going straight to the preliminaries.
Elizabeth swallowed and did as she was told. He smiled approvingly, then he beckoned. “Now come to me.”
But she didn’t.
She stopped short, chin lifted, surprising him with, “I have terms.”
And even though she was the mouse standing up to the lion, he had to respect her chutzpah.
“Which are?”
Elizabeth fumbled in her small, worn, probably second-hand, purse and withdrew a folded piece of paper to thrust it at him. “I wrote them down so I didn’t forget anything important.”
He perused her “terms” and while most were silly (i.e. Don’t make me eat fish), there were a few worth haggling over. He tossed the paper.
“No photos? Come now...that’s unreasonable.”
She clutched her purse, determined. “I can’t afford anyone to know that I’m doing this. I want to build a career. Proof of this could ruin me in the future.”
Solid point. He had to give her that. “What if I promised to guard the photos with my life?”
“Anyone who would make someone a bargain like this isn’t to be trusted. Sorry. Your word means nothing to me.”
Blunt. Sutton found it refreshing. He sighed and decided to be generous. “Fine. No visual evidence of our relationship will ever surface. Good?”
She jerked a nod.
“But I’m sorry I can’t agree to this term...” he gestured to number four on the list. “No anal sex. That’s definitely on the table so get used to the idea.”
She paled. “I-I’ve heard that if it’s not done right, I could be irreversibly damaged.”
He found her fear adorable. “I know what I’m doing. I would never hurt you, sweetness.”
“Don’t call me that. No term of endearments, term number ten.”
He rechecked the list. “Ah, yes, I see that. Fine. Elizabeth.”
She released a shaky breath. “Okay, now sign it and we’ll...um, start this thing.”
“Not so fast. I have questions of my own. Come here,” he commanded.
When she hesitated, he arched his brow in warning and she reluctantly came to him. He pulled her into his lap, loving how solid and soft she felt against him, how hot her little pussy felt on his thigh.
Speaking of...”Are you a virgin?” he slid his hands up her dress to find her little hot box.
Trembling, she nodded, gasping as his fingers found her damp folds.
Her cheeks filled with heat and he nearly crowed with satisfaction.
No one had fucked his little prize! He would be the first.
No doubt she could feel the rock hard length of his cock beneath her ass because he was swelling like he’d just downed a handful of Viagra.
“Very good. That makes me happy. I am curious though...why are you still untouched?”
She stiffened. “That’s personal.”
He frowned and punished her with a sharp flick against her soft pussy lips.
She jerked at the unexpected pain. “You shall hide nothing from me. From the point that you accepted my offer, you are my property. Do you understand?”
She bit her lip and nodded. Mollified, he petted her softly where he’d caused pain. “Now, let’s try again. Why are you still a virgin?”
“I don’t date very much. At all actually,” she clarified with discomfort.
She struggled with revealing something so private about herself but he enjoyed forcing her to his will.
This was going to be fun.
She was right; anyone who would enjoy doing this to another human being shouldn’t be trusted.
Oh, my sweet Elizabeth...I am going to ruin you.
That’s a promise.
Bookmark: 3
-3-
Was she really sitting on Sutton Buchanan’s lap?
Yes, there was no getting away from the reality that Sutton Buchanan’s hand was up her skirt and his fingers were idly stroking her folds.
She fought the urge to squirm — with nervousness, of course, not because his tender strokes were turning her insides to liquid — but she was out of her element and almost frantic with the need to do something.
“You can have any woman you want...why me?”
“Why not you?”
Because I’m short, chubby and not particularly beautiful was what came to mind but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Instead she said, “Because I doubt I’m your type.”
He laughed and shocked her by sliding his finger inside her.