Page 8 of The Wrong Bond (Wolf Billionaire #4)

CHAPTER 8

ARLENE

M y heart pounded in my chest as Shawn gently laid me on the bed.. An electric current tied our gazes together as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly and sensually.

My mouth went dry instantly, the pounding of my heart intensified, and I could hear my blood pumping in my ears.

Was I really going to do this? Have sex with Shawn Elton? I knew that numerous women would be dying to be in my position, but I didn’t know how to feel about it.I wasn’t numerous women.

Sure, I wanted him. It was hard not to when he looked the way he did. And his behavior, the way he cared for me, was something I didn’t think the clauses of our arrangement covered. It was so real, so intimate, that it made the experience a little confusing, maybe even scary.

I wanted this, and him, to be easier to detach from. But it was hard to keep my distance when he touched me like I was the most delicate thing on earth.

I sucked in a breath as he peeled his shirt off his body, revealing perfectly sculpted abs. I reached out daringly and traced my hand over his chest, and his breath hitched.

“Don’t,” Shawn mumbled.

Startled, I asked, “Don’t what?”

He breathed. “Don’t touch me like that. It makes it hard for me to control myself.”

My lungs barely expanded in my attempts to inhale and exhale.

“I don’t want you to control yourself. I want the raw, unbridled you.”

Passion pooled at the base of my belly, ready to spill out at any moment.

“Take off your panties,” Shawn instructed.

My breathing shallow, I gently shimmied out of my panties. They were the glittery pink ones that Leah and I had bought on sale, the very epitome of girly. Heat rose to my cheeks.

For the millionth time, I thought about the possibility that I shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe this was a bit too risky for me, but I didn’t listen to my brain. My body was taking the lead, and it wanted Shawn to do questionable things to it. Things I could never imagine.

He leaned closer to me as I lay in front of him, naked and vulnerable.

His eyes roamed over my body, and then he closed the distance between us. The closer he got to me, the louder my heart pounded.

“So,” he started, his fingers trailing a line from my ankle to my hip. “Do you want to have sex, or do you want to be fucked?”

I swallowed at the way the word “fucked” left his lips, his eyes shining like a predator ready to devour its prey. I expected myself to cower deeper into myself, but instead, my shoulders were square as my elbow held the weight of my upper body, my eyes squarely on him.

It was a challenge now. Both of us were at the frontlines, waiting for who would surrender first. It was as if we were playing cat and mouse, and I enjoyed the challenge.

Shawn leaned down and kissed my bare shoulder. “I’m waiting for your answer.”

And that did it for me. The feel of his feather-soft lips on my shoulder and his passionate voice made my resolve crumble.

I clawed desperately for the confidence I’d felt a few seconds before the shoulder kiss, but I couldn’t find it. It lay scattered all around me, indicating that Shawn had won.

A small, smug smirk tipped the side of his lips as moisture gathered between my thighs. I was so wet I could feel myself making a mess on his sheets.

“The clock is ticking, Ally. And I can only hold myself back for so long.”

Did I want to have boring, mundane sex with Shawn Elton? Or did I want to be fucked into oblivion?

Sex would be safe, but it might make whatever emotions I felt for him heighten. But being fucked was violent, rough, and hinted at danger. It was perfect for the arrangement we had.

I wanted loud screams and groans, fingernails clawing at his back, violent thrusts and neck grabbing. I wanted it all, but I was embarrassed even thinking about it. It felt too dirty and it wasn’t me, but I didn’t have to be me with Shawn.

“I want to be fuck—” Shawn didn’t let me finish as he slammed his lips against mine.

My eyes remained open in shock for a little bit, trying to process what had just happened. His teeth dragged across my bottom lip, urging me into the passion we both shared, and one of his hands wrapped around the back of my neck, trapping me against him.

I shut my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his lips against mine. His fingers tightened around my neck and my lips parted with a sigh. Our tongues moved in sync as he pressed his body against mine.

And then very soon, his tongue overtook mine, taking complete dominance. Everything about his kiss was selfish: the way his fingers left marks on my skin, the feel of his tongue leading mine, his hands digging into my hair.

It felt like I was dying and resurrecting. His touch did things to me that I barely understood.

His palms burned my skin as he parted my thighs and lowered himself between my legs. He’d barely touched me, but I was already on fire.

I threw my head back, a moan escaping my lips as he kissed his way up my thigh and found my bud. His stubble grazed against the sensitive skin of my thighs and I shuddered as a shock of pleasure swept through me.

He brought his face to me and gently touched my clit with his tongue. I let out a loud cry as he drew my clit into his mouth and sucked violently. My body arched off of the bed as he brought his fingers to my wetness and dug in.

My hands sank into his hair as he sucked and rubbed and teased with his tongue, each movement sending a jolt of pleasure down my body.

He pushed two fingers inside of me, thrusting and curling while I writhed with abandon, far beyond caring what I looked like.

He touched me with so much familiarity, like he knew exactly what buttons to push to make me a moaning mess. He pressed his thumb against my clit at the same time he hit my G-spot.

I let out a loud moan as I exploded all over the sheets, but Shawn was not done yet. Completely exhausted and delirious with pleasure, I watched as he pulled off his pants and positioned himself in front of me.

I barely had time to think about what was happening before he adjusted himself between my legs, gripped my hips, and slammed me down onto his cock. He thrust into me harder and harder, until my toes curled and I could feel the pressure about to burst out of me.

I held on to his shoulders, my head thrown back, grinding myself against him with every stroke.

Shawn leaned closer to me. “Good girl.”

My face heated up. He was so dominant in bed, and I hadn’t expected that from him at all.

Wetness gushed down my thighs and pooled on the sheets. He pulled out of me and flipped me over like I weighed nothing, and then I was on all fours on the bed.

He gripped my hair and slammed into me from behind, catching me off guard. My fingers dug into the duvet as another thrust knocked the air out of my lungs. I could barely hear my own thoughts. The only things I could hear were the sound of my moans and Shawn’s groans.

My third orgasm of the night crashed over me, so powerful and all-consuming it drowned out every sound, including my cry of release. Shawn groaned loudly as he came inside of me.

He slumped beside me and cradled me in his arms. Suddenly, being Shawn’s mistress didn’t sound that bad.

“Rise and shine.” I heard Shawn’s voice in my sleep before bright light burned into my eyelids.

I stretched my tired limbs and sank deeper into the duvet, memories from the night before flooding my mind. I couldn’t believe we’d gone that far, and a large chunk of it felt like a dream.

A deliciously appealing dream. A dream I never wanted to wake up from.

“It’s morning,” Shawn said, walking around the room.

“I never pegged you as a morning person,” I mumbled from inside the duvet.

“What did you peg me as?” he asked.

“I really don’t know.”

I had no idea if it was shyness or if I just hadn’t done something like this before, but I couldn’t poke my head out for the life of me.

The memories of my moans and writhing underneath him flooded my mind, and that was all I could think about. I hadn’t exactly handled myself with pride.

I’d been completely myself, because it was hard not to when Shawn Elton was fucking me into the sheets. The images, somehow blurry but vivid at the same time, ran wild in my brain. And one after the other, they flashed around in my head like a supercut, each one wilder and more wanton than the last.

“We’re going for breakfast,” Shawn said to me. “I want to show you around.”

I frowned underneath the covers. Showing a woman around was something he was supposed to be doing with his girlfriend or his wife. I didn’t think there was any universe where a man showed his mistress around.

That wasn’t the point of this relationship. It would be destroying every single thread of the terms that held it together, and that was the last thing I wanted.

I finally poked my head out of the covers. My hair was definitely sticking out in all directions, and I gently rubbed my eyes and lips to get rid of any sleep crusts that festered there.

Somehow, I was still very self-conscious about how I looked. Because Shawn looked like a freaking supermodel even though he had just woken up about ten minutes earlier.

“Are you sure you want to be seen out with me?” I asked, my eyebrows arching up.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said, pulling on a shirt.

I felt my mouth water as the hair that trailed from his stomach into his pants disappeared.

“Maybe because you’re insanely popular here and I’m not even an uptown wolf,” I mumbled.

“And?”

I groaned. “Shawn, you know what I mean.”

A small smile played on his lips. “They can only speculate, nothing more. We have nothing to worry about. Now go get ready.”

I brushed my teeth, had a quick shower, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and got dressed before stepping into Shawn’s car. It was very obvious that both of us were not willing to discuss what had happened the night before.

I could still feel the remnants of our heated session on my skin, and it made me tingle with need.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he asked, driving away from his mansion.

“I could eat,” I responded, my stomach growling immediately.

Shawn chuckled. “Yup, I can hear that.”

I laughed and put a hand on my stomach. “That was embarrassing.”

“That told me everything I needed to know.”

I smiled. “Here,” he said as he threw a hoodie at me. “We might need this.”

I frowned at the hoodie. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

And I did, so I shrugged into the hoodie that smelled like him.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite breakfast place. Their pancakes are to die for.”

“I don’t know if I trust your judgment.”

He shook his head sadly. “Even after I proved to you last night that I make the best pasta in a twenty-mile radius?”

I laughed, but all I could think about was what happened after the pasta. “It was pretty good pasta. So this breakfast place…is it your staple?”

Shawn shrugged. “It was. But I haven’t been there in years.”

“Why not?”

“I have breakfast on the way to work, so I always get something to-go. And this is the first time in a long time that I’ll be taking a day off, so I might just use this time to sit down and enjoy breakfast.”

“Well then, does that mean you’re happy I’m here?” I asked with a small smile.

“Definitely,” he responded.

After zooming through the city, past huge billboards and tarred roads that didn’t have any sign of potholes, we got to a vintage- looking café. It had a retro neon sign in front, but all the letters of the sign were present, unlike the one at Mark’s Bar.

“I didn’t think it would look this way,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Shawn gestured toward the door. “You’re about to have the best pancakes ever, and I should warn you that there’s no going back once you try them.”

A thrill shot through me, and I tried not to smile at how passionate he was. I stepped through the door, and it was like I’d been teleported to a breakfast place in the eighties.

The cracked linoleum tiles did not look dingy or rough. Instead, they looked like they had been cracked on purpose to serve as decoration for the café. There was a jukebox by the corner. None of the decorations seemed real; they looked like freshly-made replicas.

“This is trying to be like all the rundown cafés downtown,” I said out loud to Shawn.

“In a sick, twisted way, some places uptown are decorated to match the vibe of places downtown,” he said.

“Why?” I asked with a pronounced frown on my face. “It’s like they’re cosplaying poverty. It rubs me the wrong way.”

“Like I said, it’s sick and twisted, but I brought you here to enjoy the food, not rate the decor,” he said, leading me to a booth in the corner of the café.

“You’re really setting the bar high for these pancakes. I’ve had great pancakes before, just so you know.”

“I haven’t been here in a while, but I know they have the best pancakes I’ve ever tasted,” Shawn assured me.

“Even better than your mom’s pancakes? No one would admit anything is better than their mom’s cooking, I’ve noticed.”

“I would say they’re better.”

A waitress brought menus over to us and gave me a death glare before she walked back to the counter. I tried to ignore her as Shawn flipped through the menu with a practiced ease. I could tell he was doing it for show, because he probably knew his order by heart.

I smiled as my eyes wandered away from him to observe the café. And then I noticed them out of the corner of my eye. At the booth by the far end of the café, a couple of girls who looked like they’d drunkenly found their way to the café after a rough night at the club kept throwing looks my way.

Their whispers got louder by the minute, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. It all made sense when one of them pulled out her phone and began taking pictures of us.

I pulled the hood of the hoodie over my head and sank deeper into the seat.

“Is it always like this when you’re out?” I asked Shawn.

“Like what?”

I nodded at the girls’ table. “Over there.”

He looked over and pulled his own hood down. “It can be like this sometimes. Thankfully, there are no paparazzi here, so we just need to ignore the attention, have breakfast, and get out of here.”

“Ignoring the attention won’t be too easy,” I mumbled, feeling their eyes burning into my skin.

“Well, just focus on me.”

I nodded, my eyes on him.

The same waitress arrived with a notepad, smacking gum. “May I take your order, sir?” Her eyes trailed to me in disgust. “Ma’am?”

“I’ll have the house pancakes, smothered in maple syrup with fruit on the side. And a cup of coffee, please.”

The waitress flashed a bright smile at Shawn, but as soon as she turned to me, her smile dropped. “And you, ma’am?”

“I’ll have the house pancakes too, with chocolate syrup and fruit on the side,” I responded quickly, shriveling under her gaze.

She wrote down my order, her gum smacking loudly. “You don’t look like you’re from here, ma’am,” the waitress said, her eyes on me.

“Uh, I’m not.”

“That’ll be all for now,” Shawn chimed in, noticing how uncomfortable I was.

The waitress turned on her heel and left us.

I turned to face him. “Do I look like I’m not from around here?”

“I have no idea what that means,” Shawn responded.

What it meant was that everyone saw how out of place I was, and that bothered me. But I didn’t mention it to Shawn again because I knew it didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

The waitress returned almost immediately with our food, and I could feel Shawn waiting to see my reaction to my first bite.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, trying my hardest not to show my reaction.

Shawn smiled. “I don’t believe you.”

I chuckled. “They’re actually great. You were right, and I hate that you were right.”

I saw him visibly relax. “I knew you would enjoy it.”

We spent the rest of the morning eating pancakes, laughing and ignoring the stares, glares, and camera flashes. I felt comfortable with Shawn, and thankfully he never brought up what had happened the night before.

Somehow I felt relieved and frightened. My head and my heart were at war, but so far, my heart was clearly winning.