His: A Claimed by the Billionaire novella (3 page)

I swallowed a guffaw.

What?

Had he just said what I thought he had?

I’d decided a long time ago that I wouldn’t
have sex until I was married. Married. With a ring. And a license.
And you can bet I’d suffered because of that decision. More than
one boyfriend broke up with me because I wouldn’t ‘put out’. But
after watching three girls in my class waddle around our high
school’s halls pregnant, enduring the whispered insults and leers
from classmates, I had decided I would not take any chances on
getting pregnant. If you don’t have sex, you can’t get
pregnant.

Now this guy I barely know takes me on one
date and talks about having sex with me as if it was some kind of
business transaction?

My stomach twisted. “I don’t even know how to
respond to this.”

“I want you to think about it. Think hard.
There are some distinct advantages to be gained if you say
yes.”

Was he…? “What, you’ll pay me?”

“I can make sure your mother has a job for a
very long time. A well-paying position. Paid vacation. Health
insurance.”

This was crazy. Insane!

My mother couldn’t have known what her boss
was thinking. She wouldn’t pimp me out to him, no matter what he
promised. No way. When he’d talked to her about me, she had to have
misunderstood. Or he had to have lied to her, led her to believe he
wanted more than a quick fuck.

“Promise me you’ll think about my offer,” he
demanded.

“Yeah, sure. I promise,” I lied. If he wanted
to believe me, then so be it. As long as I got home in one
piece…and never had to speak to him again. I felt so…dirty and
used. And he hadn’t even touched me.

“Would you like me to have your dinner boxed
up so you can take it home?”

I started to say hell no. But then I changed
my mind. If this asshole was going to insult me by bringing me to
this fancy place and then pull this I-want-to-be-your-first-fuck
crap, he should have to pay for my dinner. And my mom’s too.

What a great fucking birthday.

Happy Birthday to me.

“Sure, I’ll take it home. And have another
prepared for my mother too.” I shot to my feet again. My eyes were
burning. And my skin was crawling. I felt dirty. Humiliated. I had
to get out of there. Now. “I’ll wait in the car.”

“Very well.” This time he didn’t try to stop
me.

Thank God.

Mom heard me slam the door. There was no way
she couldn’t have heard it.

I dragged the back of my hand across my face
as I stomped into the kitchen to put our dinners in the
refrigerator. Being as upset as I was, I couldn’t eat now.

Mom wheeled into the kitchen just as I was
shutting the refrigerator.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I brought you
something. Don’t have a clue what it is, though.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yes.” I sniffled. I snorted. “Mom, he
offered to give you a permanent job in exchange for having sex with
him. The dirty jerk.”

Mom’s gaze dropped to her hands, clasped in
her lap. “I…know.”

“You knew he was looking for a whore?”

“What?” Her eyes bugged, snapping to mine. “A
whore? No. He wouldn’t treat you like a prostitute.”

“How the hell—“ I interrupted myself. I
didn’t want to know any more. I didn’t want to hear my mother tell
me she’d pimped me out to her boss in exchange for a steady
paycheck. So I rushed past her, running toward my room. I slammed
the door, shutting myself in, wishing I could escape the insanity
that easily.

What the hell? My own mother was part of
this. The woman I loved and trusted. My world had flipped upside
down and was spinning backward. Nothing made sense anymore. How
could she? What was she thinking?

A soft knock sounded on my door. I stared at
it but didn’t respond. She knocked again. “Allison?”

I flung myself onto my bed and buried my head
under my pillow “I need time to settle down. I can’t talk right
now.”

“Please. Let me explain.”

Explain? She actually thought she could do
that? That she could somehow make what she’d done make sense?

The doorknob rattled. I hadn’t locked it. I
never locked my door. I had never had any reason to do so. But
now…did I even know the woman on the other side of that door?

It slowly creaked open.

I pressed on the pillow, shutting out as much
light as possible.

“Allison, I’m sorry,” she said from the
doorway. “I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me.”

I flung the pillow aside. It smacked the wall
and landed on the floor. “That was crazy, Mom. Freaking insane. How
could you?”

“You have no idea how long it took me to get
up the nerve to even consider it.”

My stomach convulsed. My God, I was going to
throw up. “That was your first mistake.”

“I see that now. But a part of me saw this as
an opportunity, a way to get you out of this shithole. I did it for
you.”

“For me? You did it for me? I’d rather live
in a trash can than become some man’s whore.”

My mother’s gaze dropped to her hands, folded
in her lap. She said, softly, “I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Can you imagine
how shocking it was to find out
my own mother
had pimped me
out to her boss? That’s something you read in the tabloids.” I
lifted my hands, as if displaying a headline, “Mother forces
daughter to screw boss for job. God, it’s disgusting.”

Mom’s head jerked up. Her eyes were hard, her
lips drawn to thin lines. “Then you should have some idea how
desperate I am to help you get out of this hell.”

“What hell? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” She wheeled into my room.
“You’ve given up on your dreams. For me. You’ve abandoned your
youth. For me. You’re facing decades of hard work. Because of
me.”

“So what? That’s my choice. It’s better
than--”

“A man like Ryan Sharpe can open doors for
you, Allison. He can offer you opportunities you have never dreamed
of.”

“Oh sure, but at what price?”

“One night.”

“One night? Are you sure about that? Would it
only be once? Or will he expect more?”

“Would it be so bad, Allison? Did you look at
him? He’s extremely good looking. And I’m sure he will be a skilled
lover. He wants you. Badly. You could use that to your advantage.
Just one night and you could have everything you need, everything
you’ve ever wanted. A real home. In a safe neighborhood. A future.
Hope.”

I grabbed my other pillow—the one I hadn’t
thrown across the room—and sat up. “That sounds great, but—“

“One night,” she repeated. “That’s all it
will take. Look at him. You could do worse.”

Shit, she was right about that part. In
truth, Ryan Sharpe was the most handsome man I had ever met. He was
sexy, those hard, penetrating eyes, that stubble-covered jaw, those
broad shoulders. “This all feels so dirty.” I scrubbed my face with
my palms. Now, thanks to what my mother was saying, I was more
confused than ever.

Could I actually consider…? Might I actually
agree to…to become a billionaire’s lover?”

“What did he say to convince you to agree to
set me up with him?”

She wheeled up to my bed, reached for my
hand. Her hand trembled. “He told me my job would become permanent,
Allison. And I would get a significant raise. With full benefits.
But that isn’t why I did it. I didn’t do it for me. I want you to
have a life, a future.”

I stared down at her hand, resting on top of
mine. It looked weak and small, like the rest of her. “This is so
confusing.”

“The man knows how to get what he wants.” My
mother’s expression was still very apologetic, and sad. And I
realized she hated failing her daughter and having to deal with
this situation. “He wants you, Allison. Badly. I think he’ll do
anything to have you. Please use that to your advantage.”

* * * * *

One week later, I was resolved.

Ryan Sharpe wanted me; he would have me. He
would take my innocence.

But on my terms. Mine. Not his.

I prepared a contract. In it I stated my
demands. All of them. He would sign it, or he would have to find
another virgin. Period.

He’d sent very specific requirements for our
first meeting. He sent an outfit for me to wear, a school uniform.
White shirt. Plaid skirt. Knee socks. It was ridiculous. And he’d
asked me to wear my hair in pigtails.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. He’d
demanded I bring along a written statement by my doctor that I was
a virgin. I had been forced to endure my first gynecological exam
because of him. The bastard.

Saturday afternoon, the limo rolled up to my
house at four o’clock on the dot. I didn’t go outside. I forced him
to come up to our door and knock. Then I took my time
answering.

His gaze raked up and down my body when I
finally opened the door. There was no missing the lust darkening
his eyes. Instead of being angry or repulsed by it, however, I
felt…powerful. I had this man--who had enough money to buy anything
or anyone
he wanted--in the palm of my hand.

He wanted me.

Size fourteen, sometimes sixteen, me.

No-date-for-the-senior-prom me.

Voted the-girl-most-likely-to-be-forgotten
me.

“Shall we?” He motioned to the door.

I placed the envelope with my contract in his
hands and strolled past him, toward the car. Just to make him
suffer a little, I swayed my hips. My skirt swooshed back and
forth, and my pigtails bobbed with each step. I ducked into the car
and took a seat. A few seconds later, he joined me.

The car started rolling.

This was it. I was locked in now. Alone with
him, the man who was about to pay for the right to take my
virginity.

My heartbeat hammered against my breastbone.
My mouth went dry.

“You look sweet,” he said, his lips curling
into a wicked smile. That smile made my heart gallop like a wild
colt.

“Thank you.”

“Come here.” He patted his lap.

“The contract first.”

“Yes, the contract.” He waved the envelope in
the air then set it on the console. “Consider it signed.”

“But you haven’t read it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll agree to all your
terms. But I have one condition.”

Oh God, was there more? Hadn’t he asked for
enough? “What condition?”

Leaning back, he placed his ankle on his
opposite knee. His gaze meandered over my form, making my nerve
endings tingle. “You must agree to do what I say. Anything I say.
No matter what it is. Whether you want to or not.”

A tiny quiver raced up my spine. “Will
you…will you make me do something that hurts?”

“Let me make something clear, my sweet little
Allison.” He leaned forward, pinched my chin between his thumb and
forefinger and stared into my eyes. “I’m not going to hold back
because you’re a virgin. You’re going to take everything I give
you, and you’re going to love it--every inch, every thrust, every
slap.”

My stomach did a triple-flip. My pussy
convulsed.

I’d never had a man talk like that to me. It
was a crazy.

It was a thrill.

It was…a challenge.

I licked my lips and slowly nodded.
“Agreed.”

Looking triumphant, he pulled a pen out of
his jacket pocket, unfolded my contract and signed without reading
a word. Then he set it back on the console and unzipped his pants.
“Now, on your knees, princess.”

Oh God, what had I just agreed to?

Trembling, I slid off the seat, landing on my
knees in front of him.

His lips were still curled up at the corners,
forming a wicked smile. The slightly menacing expression made my
blood sizzle. “Are you wet?”

Was I? My inner muscles convulsed. Dampness
chilled my heated tissues.

I was.

He jerked his head toward his groin. “You’re
going to suck me until I tell you to stop.”

Unlike a couple of girls I knew who had also
taken chastity vows, I hadn’t given oral sex before. I had only
used my hands.

I wasn’t sure what to do once I had his cock
out of his pants. I slanted my eyes up, hoping he’d coach me a
little.

“Are you telling me you not only managed to
remain a virgin all these years, but you’ve also done it without
ever sucking cock?”

I nodded.

He grabbed my ponytails, holding one in each
hand and pulled my head toward his thick rod. He was huge, bigger
than any dicks I’ve ever seen. I was intimidated, especially when I
let myself imagine it thrusting into my untried tissues. Heat
gathered down there in response to my imagining, pulsing in
waves.

“Open,” he demanded.

Obediently, I opened my mouth allowing him to
shove the smooth head of his cock past my lips. I pressed my tongue
flat, cushioning his shaft as it slid past my lips and into my
mouth.

When it reached the back of my throat, it
kicked off my gag reflex. I coughed, my throat widening as my body
tried to expel the huge invading organ stuffing itself deeper down
my throat. I struggled to breathe, panicked and tried to jerk back,
he held my pigtails, refusing to let me move. My stomach
convulsed.

“Breathe,” he coached in a low voice.
“Through your nose. Relax.”

My heart was slamming against my breast bone.
Relax? Let him try to do that while he had a huge sausage stuffed
down his throat. I pulled in a slow breath and exhaled. His cock
slid further into my throat, and I swallowed against the urge to
gag again.

“Yes. Oh, fuck, yes.” He pushed on my
pigtails, and his organ retreated to my mouth. I slurped and
licked, hoping he would be so content with those sensations he
would forget about fucking my throat again. But then he slammed his
hips forward once more, shoving his dick down my throat. My eyes
watered as my body tried to stretch to accommodate him. It was
hell, and yet, when I tilted my eyes up and saw the expression on
his face, a sudden wave of pride flashed through me.