Submitting to the Billionaire(60)

The return of her health has opened a world of possibilities to me, and  I've been considering the college courses I want to take.

I put my bagful of glossy prospectuses on the table and head towards the  kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Later I will leaf through them,  taking my time to decide what I want to study. I'm sure history and  English Lit are on the cards, but I'm not sure in which combination, but  it is months before the applications need to be in, so I'll be able to  take my time.

As I walk to the kitchen, I pass the living room and practically launch  out of my skin. A man is sitting on one of the couches calmly reading a  sports magazine that is open on his lap. A man I sincerely hoped never  encounter again as long as I lived. Drake's father.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" The words shoot out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them.

He raises one mocking, condescending eyebrow at me. "Language," he  taunts, and I must fight the urge to lunge across the room and land a  slap on his smug face right there and then.

"How did you get in here?"

He looks at me as if I'm stupid. "I'm Drake's father. Obviously, I have a  key." He makes a dismissive movement with his hand. "And I thought it  was about time I stopped in for a visit."

"Does he even know you're here?" I ask.

"No. I came to talk to you, actually," he replies.

"Me? Why?" I demand suspiciously, crossing my arms in front of me to keep them from shaking.

"We have things to discuss."

"What about?" I lift my chin up to meet his gaze. This is the guy who  completely cut Morgan, one of the best people I've ever met, out of her  son's life. He's an asshole. A deep, complete asshole, and I wanted  nothing to do with him.

"About your relationship with my son," he continues mildly. "I know  you've been living here since …  you came to my house, and I know he's  been using his money to pay for your stepmother in the hospital."

"It's his mother," I snarl.

"She gave up the right to be called that. Didn't she tell you she took the money and ran."

"How dare you-?"

"I'm not here to discuss the past with you. I came to offer you more  money than you'll ever earn, no matter how many colleges you attend," he  says, standing up.

I gasp in shock. He thinks he can buy me off. "You want to pay me to stay away from Drake?"

He smiles mockingly. "I knew we'd come to an understanding."

"Why?" I ask slowly.

"Because you're bad for my son. Don't get me wrong I'm sure you're very  attractive, but you're not the right material to stand at his side at a  society function. You'd be lost and he'd be ashamed of you. Whatever  passion you think you have now will die away and you'll be thrown by the  wayside. This way you get something for your time and effort."

His rudeness makes my blood boil. He doesn't care about me or his son's  happiness at all, just like he didn't care about Morgan. Well, I'm not  going to stand for it. I don't see why I should. I don't owe him  anything.

"Don't talk to me like that," I spit, so furious my hand is shaking.  "Drake will be back any minute, and I don't think he'll appreciate the  meddling you're doing in his life."

"He's out seeing his agent, he'll be gone for a while," his father cut  me off smoothly. How does he know so much about us, and what we do with  our lives? It is unsettling.

"You need to leave," he nods towards the door.

My eyes widen. "I do?" I exclaim. "Me?"

"I know my son might seem like he has his shit together, but he  doesn't," his father goes on. "And I know that he feels guilty about you  and your stepmother and everything. He's trying to assuage his own  guilt, and you and your family are exploiting that."

"What the fuck?" I demand.

His lips curl with disgust at my language. "You must have learned it  from your stepmother," he sneers, his top lip curling with disgust as he  observes me. "Being a money-grabbing slut usually takes more practice,  but you seem to have got it down to a fine art the first time."         

     



 

My mouth hangs open. I can't believe what I'm hearing. I stare at him,  the blood whooshing around my head in waves great enough to knock me  off-balance.

Suddenly, the door clicks open behind me. I jump and whirl around. Drake  is standing there staring at his father, his face black with rage. I  have never seen him so furious, not even when he was confronting his  father the last time. I swivel back around to face his father and see  that his expression has dropped from smug superiority to confusion.

"How much did you hear?" his father asks, and Drake steps up beside me and takes my hand.

"Everything," he replies, his tone low and menacing. "I heard everything."

"Son, I'm just trying to do this for your own good," he says, changing  tack, pleading with Drake. "These women, they'll bleed you dry-"

"Dad, this may come as a shock to you," Drake interrupts him, "but I  don't give a shit about money. She can have it all as far as I'm  concerned."

His father goes white. "Drake, she'll take everything from you-"

"Didn't you hear me? I don't care if she does!" Drake explodes, dropping  my hand. In three strides, he is standing in front of his father. His  hands are clenched tight at his sides. If it was not his Dad, he would  have knocked him out by now.

"I thought you'd know better than that," his father spat. "She's not worth it. She's nothing but a-"

"Don't say it, Dad. I don't want to lose the last bit of respect I have for you."

"She's a whore," his father screamed.

Drake catches his father by the shoulders and begins dragging him towards the door.

"I don't want to hear it!" He roars, opening the door. "I don't want to see you here ever again; do you understand me?"

His father stands in the arch of the door frame and shoots a look at me.  I know he blames me for this, but he has no one to blame but himself.

"I understand," he confirms, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Good," Drake snarls. "Then get out, and don't come back unless you are  prepared to apologize to Reese and talk to her with civility."

He slams the door in his father's face, and it echoes throughout the  room. Drake comes over to me, and before I can get a word out, his mouth  is on mine; he tucks his hands beneath my ass and carries me over to  the kitchen counter. He plants me on the polished marble surface, flips  my skirt up, and unbuckles his pants.

"Are you okay?" I pant, my eyes already hazy around the edges with how  much I want him. Whatever has happened, it has been so intense, and so  fast that it feels as though adrenaline is keeping me floating some  distance off the ground. Drake rips my panties down roughly. He grabs my  legs and throws them over his shoulders, and fisting his cock then  positions it at the entrance of my pussy.

"I'm great," he growls, as he slams his cock into me: it's rock-hard.  It's clear that the intensity of what has just happened is affecting him  just as much as it is affecting me.

"I can't believe that just happened," I breathe into his ear, wrapping  my arms around his neck and brushing my lips against his skin. He groans  with pleasure and grabs my legs to pin them back while he fucks me  harder. It's like he's letting out all the built-up tension of the last  couple of weeks out in one furious fuck, and I'm not complaining.

"Fuck him," he snarls, his voice low and hard. "You're my life now. It's you, you, and you for me."

He's never taken me like this before, without a second thought. It feels  incredible. The urge to touch him overwhelms me, and I sink my fingers  into his back and I pull up his shirt so I can feel his bare skin. I  lean forward so that I can kiss him once more. He pushes his tongue into  my mouth, and we make out ferociously as he continues to screw me on  top of the counter. I haven't really thought about the difference  between "making love" and "fucking" before this moment, but right then, I  know there is a massive difference.

He drives himself into me, moving his hips back and forth so I can feel  the contours of his cock inside me. Jesus, it feels wild and good. I let  go and lose myself so completely to him. This is cathartic, a release, a  relief. The climax burns through me like a forest fire setting alight  everything it comes in contact with. Every thought I have just vanishes  into smoke.

A loud scream comes from my mouth, the sound echoing off the walls and  all around us. It is guttural and animalistic, and I don't give a  fucking damn. I want to let him know how much pleasure he brings me.         

     



 

As if he has been holding himself and waiting for me, he drives himself  deeply inside me one last time and cums, the muscles in his neck  straining hard, as his cock spasms inside me. When it's over his body  slumps against mine. Gently he wraps his arms around me and plants a  kiss on my cheek, before moving back slightly so he can look me in the  eye while we are still joined. He has an odd expression on his face, and  I cock my head to the side and try to read it.