Page 24 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

Chapter Twenty

NOAH

I’m still fucking hard and I think I’ve just had some kind of religious experience and I’ve found my niche. Normal sex, especially if it’s with Aria, is amazing, but this is… a different kind of amazing.

It’s coming home.

I look down at her and take a sip of the bourbon I poured, the only thing I had on hand.

Aria enhances the taste, and her cunt might be my favorite way to drink.

I stand, working my cock lazily, enjoying the view.

She really has a gorgeous pussy. I admire it. Love it. The soft lines, what it hides, the pleasure they provide, but this is one of the first times I’ve taken my time to admire one like this.

Used by me but not yet filled, wet, aroused, pink, and swollen. And her fucking opening… Jesus, it’s… open. It’s starting to close, but my size stretched her, and it’s an erotic sight I’m not about to forget.

Regretfully, I remove the pillows and toss them back on the sofa’s now naked back rest. I untie her hands and step back.

“Your job isn’t done, my girl.” My sub, my slave. I shiver. I’m not ready to utter those words, but I’m fucking home in this. And I think she is, too. I’ve read up on it, and I’ll read more because I want to test us both, see where we can go, what our limits are.

I already know I want to fantasize about pain, about whips and welts, about pegs and pain to get pleasure, but real life is about tying her up, domination, a light, controlled spank that’s symbolic.

Maybe she wants more. Or less.

We’ll work it out, but first I need to come.

I pull off her blindfold, and excitement lights up her blue eyes. Her hair is a mess of wavy curls, and her gaze locks onto my erection.

“Hands behind your back.”

She does so, and I set down the drink I don’t really want—she’s way more intoxicating—and I tie her hands, before returning to stand in front of her.

“Good girl.” I give her a stern look. “Now, I want you to suck my cock and fuck yourself on it. Choke yourself. You need to make me come and it has to be fast and good.”

She only whimpers as I jack myself.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask.

Aria comes in, and I guide my cock into her mouth. It’s so different in there, nothing like a cunt or an ass, but magical anyway, especially when she sucks or she gags on me. The drool she produces gives it the kind of glide made to make a man insane.

I let her go at first, driving me mad, to the edge, but I need it hard and fast like a fuck.

I need to have it even and steady in the beat.

So I wrap my fingers in her hair and take over, fucking her hard, going deep into her throat.

It’s so amazingly good as she swallows over and over that I almost forget I have all the control.

But I ease back when I’m on the brink of coming, but I’m too far gone, I can’t stop that orgasm, and I can’t stop the come that rushes up and spurts out and into her mouth rather than her throat or all over her, and I grab her head by the hair and hold her while I come.

“Fuck, oh, shit. Your mouth is holy. Fuck!”

My knees threaten to buckle as I pull out, and she swallows without asking and I look at her, the juices on her thighs, the bliss in her eyes, and I know I want more.

“I’m going to fuck you again,” I say as I sweep her up and stride to my room, “over and over so you know you’re mine.”

“I am yours.”

A thrill hits me hard. “And we’re going to fuck until we can’t move. What do you think?”

“Yes please. Sir.”

The next day she’s gone early, but she leaves a note. “Gone for a run” is crossed out and Angus is fed and in my room. I’m at work.

It’s all careful, and it makes me feel bad. I like her in my bed, I like my sheets smelling like gardenias and jasmine.

Although what the fuck time does she go to work? Because it’s six now, so she must have taken Angus at five.

I don’t think I like her out there by herself without a way to track her.

Sure, she has a hellhound, but what if he’s not there one day?

Work’s long that day and high pressure, but meetings go well, deals go through, and when I leave, I go to the Apple Store in SoHo for the latest watch. I pick the silver band for it, something classy, and I get the guy selling it to me to match it to a second one and to my phone.

So I can track her.

“Kids,” he says, “gotta keep on top of them.”

“Kids,” I say, agreeing.

He repacks the watch and slides it in the bag. When he goes to do it with the other I just take it and put it in my satchel.

I’m not wearing that. My watches are expensive timepieces. But I guess when I work out I could use the idiotic watch.

It’s idiotic for me, not her. For someone like Aria who doesn’t wear a watch, it’s practical, and maybe it’s something she needs as a nurse. I don’t know.

When I get home, I slide the box into my bedside drawer and heat up one of my chef-made meals. I put it in the steaming oven, and wait, then grab a juice. There’s other things. Her things.

Cake. Spaghetti and sauce, and something that looks like stew.

I finish my juice, and take the sprinkles cupcake, and take a bite. It’s from my favorite bakery. And it’s the cupcake I always bring Josh when I stop by that bakery.

Josh… boy do I owe that kid.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I know I’m not alone. I turn, and Aria’s there with Angus who growls at me.

“I didn’t hear that creature,” I say, “and I didn’t hear the elevator.”

“In your own world.” She holds up a box. “We decided on pizza. Do you want some?”

For a moment I’m about to say no, but I need to make an effort. If this is going to work, I have to try. Because I get the feeling that Aria will walk if I end up fucking this up even more than I have.

So I smile and gesture to the steam oven. “If you share… whatever it was I put in the oven.”

“Deal.”

We end up eating our strange and delicious mishmash meal on the terrace with Angus running about, coming up to her to beg every few minutes.

She doesn’t mind the disgusting dog all over her. And okay, I guess for a monstrous beast, he’s cute, but he’s still a dog, and they’re disgusting, like all animals.

I clean up and load the dishwasher, our nothing burger of a conversation sending tiny thrills bouncing in my blood.

She’s… something, and I don’t want the talk to end, so I invite her up to my part of the terrace and pour us wine.

I shut the door on the dog, and no, his soft whines don’t make guilt wash through me. My fingers itch to let him in. He’ll get over it. He’s got a room and a fucking terrace just for him. He doesn’t need to rule every fucking room.

Aria turns her glass in her hands and looks down at the contents of the white Burgundy. “You know, Josh is a wonderful kid.”

“He likes you, too.”

She laughs. “But he really missed you here?—”

“Going to make it up to him,” I say, cutting her off before she can ask me just how I could do that to him.

Because I don’t have a satisfying answer.

“And how are you doing that?” she asks.

“I told him we’re going fishing.”

Aria crinkles her nose as she glances at me. “Fishing?”

“Fishing. He wanted you to come.”

Her eyes widen, and she smiles. “Really? I’m honored. I… fishing?”

Now I chuckle. “I promised him, and he loves fishing.” Then the laughter fades. “I feel bad for the way I stormed out of here. I let him down, which is something I promised I wouldn’t do. He’s been through enough without having to deal with my tantrums.”

“Josh means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” she asks softly.

I nod. “He’s a wonderful kid, I’d do anything for him, but it’s more than that. I guess I see myself in him. I lost my mother young, too. Not as young as him, but… yeah, I kind of know how that feels.”

She waits, but I don’t offer her the ugliness of my history. She just sighs and says, “I get it. I lost my own parents when I was younger than Josh. In a car accident.”

That causes a knell to ring out in my chest. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t need sorry. I just… context, you know?”

I think I do, but the longer I stay on the subject, the more chance there is she might ask questions.

There are things I could say, things I could just use to distract, but she’s so fucking pretty in the lights on the terrace, the city breathing around our tiny world, that I lean over and hook a finger in her shirt and pull her to me.

“What—”

“This, princess.” I kiss her soft, teasing her lips apart with my tongue to take my time exploring her, and she joins me, kissing me back, the passion flaring bright.

“How the fuck are you so damn delicious?” I mutter. “Beyond the wine, you taste like something I could get addicted to, shit, maybe I am, because…”

I kiss her again. Longer, deeper, my tongue diving in. Then I break the kiss.

This isn’t enough. Right now, I want more, I need more, so I pull the glass from her fingers and set it down.

I grab her hand and lead her to the bed, where I lay down, tugging her scrubs down, taking her cotton panties.

Before she can work it out, I pull her onto the bed and over me, and I scootch down and planting her cunt on my face as I fill her with my tongue.

“Noah! No, I need a shower. This is… it’s too…”

Intimate, arousing, filthy, and something I think a subconscious part of me has wanted. I hold her in place, not letting her free, as I lick and suck and use a finger of my other hand to toy with her ass.

A small shriek of a moan breaks free, and I pinpoint the delightful moment she stops trying to fight it and starts to ride my face. I begin to finger bang her ass.

Her embarrassment is gone, and she grinds down as I drive her up and up into a wild climax.

She’s still rippling with pleasure when I flip her off me and onto her stomach on the bed.

I grab her wrists and rip off my tie using it to hold one of her hands to the side of the bed and I open drawer next to the bed to pull out on of the dress strips from the night before and tie her down.

Freeing myself, I then raise up her hips so she’s face down, ass up, a fast becoming favorite position.