Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (53 page)

BOOK: Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0)
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“Katie… if this is about you Topping, I… really don’t care if you take out your urges on other men. Just casual, of course. Maybe if I’m there.”

All these stipulations. I could die from dizziness. “That’s not going to work for me. I’m a Domme. I don’t want some man looking over my shoulder and seeing what I do. For fuck’s sake, Ian, we would be miserable after a year. It wouldn’t work. We’d be forced to break up like your parents before we could even talk about marriage.”

My God, I just said the M word.

Ian doesn’t flinch. “I think you’ve misunderstood me,” he says, steadily. “We don’t have to go from what we had to an engagement party. There are places in-between. Like… agreeing to be exclusive while we test the waters out some more.”

“Why would you even want to bother with that? Do you want to waste your time when you could be looking for someone more suitable to your needs?”

“Did you not hear what I said?” Ian leans forward, face coming closer to mine. I resist flinging myself into his embrace now that I can smell his cologne so strongly. His comfortable cologne that makes me think of gentle nights in his bed, his body wrapped around mine and his lips teasing every inch of my skin. “I
just told you
that you make me feel things that no other woman has in my thirty years. Why wouldn’t I want to follow that and see where it goes?”

“Because,” I take his hand in mine, “I won’t be the last woman making you feel that way.”

His gaze is unwavering. Intensifying, but he’s not going to look away anytime soon. “Why do you think so little of yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

The mood has changed. We’ve gone from Ian groveling for my attention to him looking as if he’d rather spit on my floor. I’ve never seen such disgust on his face. Disgust for me? No, Kathryn, don’t let him see how uncomfortable you are. It was one thing when he walked in here unannounced, it’s another for him throw you off guard in
this
way.

“You put up this façade that tells the world you’re a hard bitch who doesn’t take shit from anyone, personally or professionally. I get it. You need that façade because so many people have told you that you’re still nothing, even born into your father’s family. When that façade comes away, though? You’re so insecure that I almost pity you. Almost. I know you have the strength to overcome whatever is holding you back.”

“What am I trying to achieve, huh?” I snatch my hand away from his.

“You need to let go. You can’t live the rest of your life trying to live up to some standard day-in and day-out. You’re going to burn in flames before you hit forty. Maybe sooner. I don’t want to see that happen. I want to give you at least one escape in your life where you can let go of all control in a safe environment with someone who fucking loves you.”

Tears threaten to burst from my eyes, but I hold them in…. because this arrogant bastard is not going to see me cry over
this.
He’s not going to see me remember every time I wished I could run to my father and have him fix all my problems in my stead. He’s not going to witness me come undone because a man tried to make me get his coffee even though I’m a project leader or even in charge of a whole company one day. I refuse to let Ian Mathers, the bane of my existence and quite possibly the love of my life, see me at my weakest like that.

He’s seen me vulnerable.

He doesn’t need to see me
weak.

Yet only those last words stay in my head. “You love me?”

“I told you earlier, darling, I’m probably heading that way. Fast.”

My hand searches for his again. When our fingers meet, it’s like being welcomed back to a place you left but have already forgotten. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if all this time has been wasted?” I bite my lip, fighting that solitary tear. “What if you break my heart?”

Somehow I’m lured into the grip of one arm. Ian’s arm. The one that’s so soft and strong that I can’t help but melt in it. My nose nuzzles against the place he rubbed his cologne as he strokes my tangled, greasy hair and whispers into my ear.

“If it doesn’t work out in the long run, then it doesn’t work out. But it wouldn’t have been a waste of time, and I would never break your heart. Not like that. The idea of you being heartbroken breaks
my
heart.”

My other hand strokes his red shirt and plays with the edge of his tie. “I can’t imagine a man like you being heartbroken. You’re the type to shake one woman off and go find yourself a new one. Or many ones. You were like that back in high school, too. Don’t you think I know I was one of those girls, even though I came on to you?”

“Katie.” Every time he says my name like that, I die. My heart literally stops beating, if only for an instance. It’s like those sound waves dive right into my ear and stop the blood flowing toward my chest. I don’t trust a man who has so much power over me. What kind of power? Fuck, I don’t even know. “It was easy for me to go between those women because I didn’t feel anything more than lust and a passing fondness for them. You’re different. You’re
completely
different.” His lips tickle my ear, and here I go, falling deep into that well I’ve plummeted into so many times now. “You’re the closest thing to a soul mate I’ve ever found, and I still don’t believe in such a thing.”

“Neither do I.” My arms encircle him. God, I don’t want to let him go ever again. That’s how much he’s destroying me. “I do, however, believe you’re changing something within me. Or maybe you’re not changing it. Maybe it’s always been there, and I was too stupid to acknowledge it.”

“You’re not stupid, my love.” A kiss tugs at my throat. “You’re scared. I’ll help you.”

I think of the collar he bought me. Until now, I thought those days were already behind me. No more wearing a collar for a man like Ian Mathers, the only man I would let do that to me. “I am scared. I’m scared you’re going to leave my bedroom without making love to me, even though I’m a mess.”

“What?”

“Look at me, dumbass. I look like I’ve had the flu for a week.”

Ian laughs, the mirthful kind that fills me with a flash of adoration. “I didn’t even notice. I mean, I noticed, but I wasn’t put off. You look like you’re not wearing any makeup.”

I don’t want to say something like, “That doesn’t bother you?” because I know a decent man wouldn’t be mortified by how I look. Like Ian said, though, I’m still insecure at the end of the day, and as a woman that can translate to insecurity over my looks. I can’t help but smile into his shoulder as he tells me one more time that I’m beautiful.

No chance to tell him that I think he’s handsome. He’s kissing me before I have that opportunity.

Have you ever thought you weren’t going to kiss someone wonderful again? Then had the chance to relieve your heart and start all over, with new understanding and hope? That’s me. If you’ve never had that chance before, let me tell you… there’s no fucking thing like a make-up kiss.

Or make-up sex.

All the urban legends regarding relationships are right. See, I’ve never had make-up sex before. So I don’t understand this flood of passion flowing through me as Ian gently lays me down against my pillow and gently kisses me over and over again.

I don’t care if he doesn’t
love
me yet. I don’t care if this ends in a sweeping blaze months, years from now. I don’t care. All I care about is how good it feels to make love to him and call him mine.

And now I’m his.

He shows no apprehension holding my body to his, even though he’s decked out in top-tier designers and I’m here in a T-shirt I got from the library I helped. He’s in cologne. I’m in body odor and sweat. He’s teasing my throat with his tongue, and I’m awkwardly reaching between us trying to find his zipper.

“Someone’s grabby,” he mutters against my lips.

I get the damn zipper down and stroke his cock through his boxers. “Can’t help it. I want to feel you.”

“Then feel me, darling. As long as you let me feel you too.”

As if he has to ask.

We undulate together, my hand wrapping around his cock, coaxing it to get hard. In turn, he cups my breasts through my shirt, tongue flicking against cotton and making my nipples peak beneath. My whimpers of desire are enough to convince him to reach into my cotton shorts and rub the folds surrounding my clit.

It’s so gentle. While not the first time we’ve gently made love, it is the first time it wasn’t preempted by the rough, passionate sex we’re more accustomed to. This is genuine. Not fueled by exhaustion and remaining desire. This is…

This is otherworldly.

Every time my name falls from his lips, I feel like I’m ascending a ladder toward a glimpse of Heaven. His hand caresses me between the legs, urging me to get wet for him, while I help him get hard enough to take me. Neither effort takes very long.

It also doesn’t take us long to jump right to that event.

Funny, isn’t it? Just a few minutes ago I was hoping he would leave me alone. Now I can’t get enough of him. I can’t stop kissing his cheek and neck as he sits up and begins to undress. The tie lands on the bed. The jacket falls over the side. His shirt unbuttons until I can touch the skin of his chest.

My T-shirt comes up. Not over my head, but high enough for him to touch and lick my breasts. Teeth graze both nipples as he shakes off his pants and boxers. The man is half naked on top of me, and yet neither of us can bother to finish the chore by removing this shirt. It’s fine. I only want to be able to touch him.

Ian pulls down my shorts and the cotton underwear I have on beneath. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful yet?” he asks, slipping one finger into me. I gasp, delighted, happy to have him back in me so soon.

I missed him. I didn’t realize how much until now.

“Katie…” His fingers thrust into me, making me wetter, readier for the rest of him. Each fingertip curls and grazes my G-spot, but I’m not allowed to taste ecstasy yet. That’s okay. I can wait for him.

He wants the same thing I do. Namely, he wants to make love.

I thought we had made love before. Those slow, sensual times in his bed. Now I’m not so sure. I think this may be it, because this time we’re coming together because of a burning need to express our most hidden emotions for each other.

Slowly, his sleeves come down his arms, and I feel his biceps, his shoulder blades appearing beneath my touch. The red shirt joins Ian’s jacket on the floor. He parts my legs around his waist and kisses me so deeply that I gradually forget the rest of the world exists.

Isn’t that what lovemaking is about? Becoming so involved in one another that nothing else matters anymore? Believe it or not, I stop caring about everything but the beating of his heart and the breath I feel on my throat and in my mouth. I don’t even care about him entering me, my folds parting more and more to take him into me. Gradually. Gently.

Magnificently.

Ian stays still within me, kissing my lips again and again, my nails tracing the outline of his muscles along his shoulder and arms. “How does it feel?” he asks, shifting slightly. “I can tell you how it feels on this end. Amazing.”

Not very descriptive, Ian, but as I said, I don’t care about that. “It feels amazing on this end too.” I tell him how his cock is so embedded within me that it feels like we’re truly one body. Conjoined, unable to part. You hear those stories about a man who fits so perfectly within you that it’s like you’re fated to be together. We both said we don’t believe in soul mates. Maybe not, but I believe in moments like these.

“I think I love you, Katie.”

Those are the last words Ian says before wrapping his arms beneath me, lifting my hips up and taking me with a lurch of his body.

I think I love you.

I love you.

Rhythmic movements blissfully roll through me, but all I can think is that the man doing this – the man pushing my body to its limits and reaching for my heart –
loves me.

Ian Mathers. The man I thought I disliked so much for so long. Over what? His arrogance? A grudge from years ago? A grudge so
stupid
and immature now? Shit, nothing like that is ever going to happen again with us. I feel like a fool for not going to him sooner.

Perhaps it was best we waited this long. Perhaps it’s a good thing I had my independent experiences, shaping me into the woman I am now in this moment. I’m still growing. I’m still changing. I’m still fighting the urge to meet my boundaries head-on and see how far I can push them toward the cliff of ultimate enlightenment.

Damn, this is pretty close.

“I love you too, Ian.” My voice is lost to the creak of my bed and the gasps in my throat. I’m opening up more, taking him deep within me and begging him to
love me, love me some more.
I want to feel every bit of his need for me. I want to capture his essence and hold onto it for the rest of my life. Even if we break up later… even if this really can’t be because of who we fundamentally are… that’s fine. That’s more than fine. I’ll always have this moment to comfort me on the nights I miss him the most.

My affirmation inspires Ian to thrust harder, faster, his cock tearing me apart in the most intoxicating way. If I thought it physically possible, I would want him to keep doing this, forever. I want this, forever.

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