His Control: A Billionaire Romance Page 4

  I wanted the real Micah, the old Micah. I just hoped he wasn’t lost forever.

  I was brought out of my thoughts by Micah, standing in front of me, hands on hips.

  “So, stay for dinner?”

  5

  Micah

  She almost looked surprised when I asked her to stay. I could see the indecision in her eyes - she was of two minds, still didn’t know whether or not to trust me.

  But I knew she’d stay. I knew she couldn’t say no - I could see it in her eyes.

  “Sure,” she said. “That sounds lovely.”

  She was still a little uncertain, of herself and me. Of what my intentions were. That didn’t matter though - I’d show her soon enough.

  “Good. I’ve managed to get one of the kitchens into a somewhat workable state. I’m sure I’ll be able to rustle something up.”

  We walked to the kitchen, chatting about the secret room we’d found. I was still thrilled about the find, and had let myself get far more animated and excited than usual about it. It felt good, in a way, to let myself go like that. It had been a long time since I had, but being around Ella was having some sort of weird effect on me. I didn’t feel like I needed to be on my guard all the time around her.

  I rummaged around in the little mini-fridge I’d had temporarily installed and busied myself preparing a roast chicken and some seasonal veggies. I might be rich and brilliant, but I still know how to cook for myself. It’s a useful skill to have - and besides, women love it.

  As I got everything ready I found myself glancing over at Ella from time to time. She was sipping on a crisp Semillon, watching me prepare the food.

  “I thought you’d be staying at a hotel until this place was finished,” she said.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Why?”

  She looked unsure for a moment, probably scared she’d offend me if she told me what she was really thinking.

  I decided to help her out, amused by her reticence.

  “Because I dress well? Because I’m rich? Because I’m stuck-up and prissy?”

  I challenged her directly with my words and eyes, letting none of the mirth I felt show in my gaze or my tone. She set her jaw in defiance.

  “Yeah, all of those things; but don’t forget arrogant and a control freak. I figured while the house was still in such a mess that you wouldn’t be able to bear the disorganization.”

  I laughed, genuinely. It was good to have someone around who wasn’t subservient, who wasn’t afraid to speak their mind to the great Micah Frost. There had been far too few of them over the past few years. There was no challenge, no sense of chase when women just gave themselves up to me.

  But Ella had fire in her belly and defiance in her eyes and I meant to see just how long she could hold out against me before she surrendered control. Because she would surrender to me, that much was certain.

  “Well, obviously you don't know me as well as you think you do, Ella. People often underestimate me like that.” I shrugged. “But that's okay, you'll learn in time.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Will I now, Mr. Mysterious?”

  She stared at me across the table, as if trying to puzzle me out. I just met her eyes and sipped my wine, enjoying staring into those inquisitive blue eyes of hers. Eventually she broke eye contact and stood, wandering around the kitchen and inspecting the fixtures and fittings, murmuring to herself as she went.

  “We'll need to tear this down and replace it, but the sideboard here can probably just be sanded…”

  “Hey,” I said, “enough work for one day. Why don't you go take a shower while I get dinner finished? The bathroom just down the hall has hot water and some fresh towels. I don't have any clean clothes for you to change into, so…”

  I gave her a wink, but she just wagged a finger in admonishment.

  “So I'll put these sweaty clothes back on and you'll just have to deal with the smell.”

  I stepped close to her suddenly, and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, savoring it. She smelled musky, feminine…intoxicating.

  “That's fine by me. You smell great.”

  She shivered a little at my proximity, her cheeks flushing, but padded off to the bathroom without another word.

  I watched her go, admiring her body; even underneath the baggy overalls she wore, I could see the shape of her.

  Perfect.

  I busied myself with the food, making sure the chicken was roasting through and drizzling some extra virgin olive oil over the vegetables to finish them up. It smelt heavenly, making my stomach yearn for a delicious, hot meal after the exertion of pulling that wall down.

  “Mmmm, that smells great. Is it almost ready? I could eat a horse.”

  Ella was standing in the doorway - her hair was damp, cascading around her pretty face. Her cheeks were flushed from the hot shower, and she’d ditched the overalls for the Levi’s and t-shirt that she’d been wearing underneath. Her breasts swelled alluringly beneath the shirt and the jeans hugged her shapely hips.

  God damn.

  I could feel my cock tightening just from looking at her, and it took all my self-control not to embarrass myself with a schoolboy pant-tenting situation. I tried to distract myself by keeping my hands busy with the food, but I wasn’t having much success.

  I want her. I need her. And I’m going to have her. Tonight.

  I served up the food and we sat down to eat. For the next half an hour or so we ate, finished the bottle of wine, and just talked. I relaxed a little, let down my guard, even told a few anecdotes. But all the while I was waiting for that moment, the one I knew was coming. The way her eyes occasionally held mine for just a moment longer than necessary. The way she kept brushing her hair back, the way she laughed at my corny story.

  She wanted me. I just had to get her to admit it to herself.

  “That was really good,” she smiled, once we'd finished eating. “You can cook for me every night after work.”

  I winked at her.

  “Every night? You plan to make a habit of this?”

  She shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

  “I get hungry after a day's work. And I'm not much of a cook. I'll take a free home-cooked meal any chance I can get, you bet your ass.”

  We rose from our seats and dropped the dishes in the sink. I could feel the tension, the anticipation in the air, almost febrile between us.

  She lingered near to me, not looking at me but making no move to step away.

  Now.

  I reached out to her and pulled her into me, into the embrace I'd been anticipating ever since I'd seen her that first day.

  She melted into me, her arms wrapping around me, her head tilting up, eyes big and wide and liquid. Her soft lips were parted slightly, and I ached for her, a physical need that I would no longer deny.

  Our lips came together and I kissed her deeply, my heart beating faster at the muffled moan that escaped from her. My arms enveloped her and I pulled her into me, my tongue darting out and touching hers. She tasted so good, and I took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, filling my nostrils with her. I couldn’t help myself, pushing her back against the sideboard, holding her tight. She was mine now, and I wasn’t going to let her go.

  I was in control. My lips demanded hers open wider for me, my hands demanded her body press against me. She was pliant in my arms, breathing heavily as we came together. I broke off the kiss for a second to look down at her - her eyes were heavy with desire, pupils dilated.

  This was what I’d been waiting for. Would she be mine now; would she give herself to me completely, as I wanted, as I needed? I lifted her up onto the counter as if she weighed nothing, and she gasped at my display of strength, eyes widening just a little. I could see her defenses crumbling now - gone was the defiant, smart-mouthed woman I’d met outside the other day. Now she was mine, giving herself over to me.

  And it felt so damn good.

  I forced her legs open and pressed myself into her, my h
ard cock straining against my pants, grinding against her. I saw a flash of...something in her eyes at that, at me taking what was mine. A flash of that defiance I thought I’d beaten.

  That doesn’t matter. You’ll give yourself to me, I know you will.

  As I moved my body against hers, she moaned again, her body responding to me and betraying her. She could no more deny herself to me than stop breathing air. I leaned down and kissed her again, my lips pressing hard against hers. Again she attempted to slow things down, to keep it on her terms, but I wasn’t going to allow that. My mouth demanded hers open to me, and it did. Her hands scrabbled at my back and she pulled me closer, her body demanding mine now.

  I leaned in closer, pushing her head back with the force and the passion of my kiss, insistent now, bidding her to cast away the last of her resistance, claiming her as my own.

  And then she did, and I felt it. I felt her melt, sensed her give herself over to me completely. She was mine.

  I broke off the kiss and looked down at her, sitting there in front of me, her hair disheveled, her clothes rumpled. God she was beautiful.

  “I want you, Ella,” I groaned, my voice thick with lust. “I need you. I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.”

  She moaned softly at my words, her eyes holding mine.

  “But I need to hear it from you,” I said. “I need you to tell me you want me. I need to hear the words.”

  She was silent for a few moments, and I almost started to fear that I was wrong, that she would deny herself, and me, what we both knew was going to happen. The silence extended, until I thought she was going to run, to break out of my embrace.

  But she didn’t, and when she spoke her voice was low, husky, dripping with honeyed eroticism.

  “Fuck me, Micah.”

  Endorphins rushed through me at those three small words, and I growled with lust as I lifted her once more. She wrapped her legs around my waist, hips moving as she ground herself against me. I carried her out of the kitchen, our lips never parting, and carried her into the bedroom.

  I’d gotten a bed made, crisp with fresh linens, and dropped her onto it, stripping my shirt over my head in one smooth motion. She lay back and looked up at me, doe eyed, waiting. Her eyes roved over my exposed torso, her hands reached up to touch me.

  But I caught them, holding her by the wrists. I was in control now - she had surrendered to me, and there was no going back. She whined as I pinned her arms up above her head, squirming and trying to struggle from my grasp. It was futile; she was no match for my strength. But she tried anyway.

  “I want to touch you,” she gasped. “I want to feel you.”

  I didn’t respond with words, merely kept her arms pinned with one hand, as the other tugged down her jeans. I wanted to explore every inch of her, to claim her as my own. To see where she was weak, and to exploit that weakness.

  “Take off the shirt,” I demanded. She obeyed, throwing it to one side, her bra following swiftly afterwards.

  I sat back for a moment to drink her in, to admire her perfect body. Her gorgeous pert breasts, nipples dark and peaked, erect with her need. I dipped my head down and took one into my mouth, lapping at her with my tongue. She sighed and her back arched, and then I bit down, just gently, nipping at her. She moaned loudly now, her hands running through my hair, pulling my head down. I reached up and held her by the wrists again, and she sighed with frustration.

  I lifted my head and smiled at her, letting her know that if she truly wanted me, as she’d said, she would surrender this control to me.

  I yanked her panties down, exposing her beautiful smooth pussy, already glistening with her desire. I growled again at the sight of it, a primal sound from deep within my throat. I forced her legs apart and dipped my head down low, tasting her slowly at first, teasing her. Again, her hands wound through my hair, and again, I held her by the wrists and stopped her. She didn’t fight back this time as my tongue found her achingly hard clit, snaking over that engorged little nub until she was panting and moaning my name.

  I stopped then, and she arched her pelvis up, urging me to continue. Her eyes, which had been closed, fluttered open.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathed, “that feels so damn good.”

  “All in good time,” I said. “You’re just gonna have to be patient.”

  She moaned with impatience as I kissed my way up her body, from her inner thighs, over her belly, my teeth nipping gently as I went, back to her breasts, and then to her neck. When my lips brushed against her throat, her breath caught. I could feel her blood pumping through her veins, another signifier of her desire, of her need.

  I explored every inch of her body with my fingers and my lips and my tongue, teasing her, taunting her, until she was begging me for more, begging me to end her delicious torment. Every time she tried to take back control, or tried to touch me, I denied her. We rolled around in a strange sort of battle, her against me, our bodies and our minds in a power struggle. But there was only ever going to be one winner.

  Me.

  I sat behind her, her back pressed up against me, her legs spread wide. My finger pressed gently against her clitoris, and each tiny movement drew gasps from her, made her body tense. I controlled her with one little finger.

  “I know every nerve in your body now,” I said, my breath hot against her ear. “I know which cause pleasure…” She moaned long and low in her throat as my fingers slicked against her throbbing clit, “and I know which can cause pain.” I pressed a spot on the side of her thumb, a pressure point, and the pain jolted her into sudden awareness. She turned to look at me, a puzzled look on her face.

  I saw it in her eyes, that she’d finally come to realize.

  This wasn’t a game. But how far did she want to go?

  6

  Ella

  When he did that thing with my thumb, it was like being jolted awake from some sort of slumber. I’d been so turned on, so ready to give myself to him completely, but then he’d gone and done a weird thing like that.

  He was looking at me quite strangely - he was obviously turned on, just like I was, but he wasn’t giving himself over completely to it. His eyes were clear, his features composed. I could feel his rock-hard erection pressing into me from behind, but he was obviously not going to let his lust for me let him relinquish any control whatsoever.

  I mean, sure, I found him handsome, intriguing, and with a lot more depth to his character than I’d originally given him credit for. I wanted sex, I wanted to fuck his brains out, and that was fine. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to enter this weird new world that he obviously inhabited. I didn't know if I wanted to give up that control - I was too accustomed to having it, in my professional and my personal life.

  Micah had been watching me intently, gauging my reaction to his little thumb trick, and now he leaned forward and kissed me aggressively, deeply, pushing my head back with his, almost like he was claiming me as his own.

  It was hot; really fucking hot, hotter than I wanted to admit to myself. But I couldn't just let him have me, not as easily as that. If he wanted me, he was gonna have to damn well earn it.

  I pushed back against him, with my neck and my hands, and he pulled away. I met his eyes with mine, and dared him, challenged him to try again.

  He grinned, like he knew exactly what kind of game we were playing here. And he looked about ready to play for keeps.

  He surged towards me again, pushing me backwards and pinning me to the bed with his superior weight. The thrill of his hard body against mine was something else; intoxicating, maddening. He tried to pin my wrists down and pinion me in place, but I fought like a wildcat, writhing and twisting, breaking free of his grasp with a sudden exclamation of excitement. I lunged for him, eager to take my turn, have my moment of control.

  But he was too quick for me, too strong. He reversed my lunge, using my momentum against me, and I found myself pinned beneath him again, his rock-hard erection hard to ignore.

 
I struggled again for a minute, in a futile attempt to get out from underneath him. He hadn't showered yet, and his scent was driving me crazy - he exuded pheromones, his musky odor making my brain sluggish and my thoughts slow.

  I want him. I need him inside me.

  He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head to one side, a low growl in his throat as he exposed the soft, milky skin of my neck. He kissed me there, nipping at my skin, and, holy God, it felt so good, deep down, low in my belly. I found myself arching my hips, grinding my wet slit against the hardness of his cock through his pants.

  I was losing myself to him - it was like he knew exactly what to do, exactly where to kiss, exactly which of my buttons to press to turn me into some kind of servile sex automaton, responding to his every whim.

  With my last shred of free will I fought back again - it was like some demon had taken me over, turning me into a wild, wanton creature, thrashing and kicking, my last act of defiance.

  He was too strong for me though - there was nothing I could do, and eventually, I lay back, spent, gasping for breath, muscles burning. And Micah still held me, not even seeming out of breath, just looking down at me with those inscrutable eyes of his. There was almost...amusement there - not condescending, but...happy? Turned on? I couldn’t tell, but he was definitely pleased that I’d finally decided to stop fighting him.

  I lay back and he leaned in for a kiss again - more tenderly this time. I ached for him, my thighs slick with my desire, my nipples as hard as little diamonds. I moaned as his chest brushed lightly against them, goosebumps prickling my exposed flesh.

  And then I relaxed and gave in, gave myself to him. I had a sudden desire to see what it was like to just relinquish control. To let him have it, to let him have me. It had been such a long time since I’d done it at work, in my personal life, even in my relationships. I always needed to be in control, to make sure that everything went as I expected it to.