His to Master and Enjoy [The Billionaires and Their Playgrounds 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (6 page)

Keeping his striking dark eyes focused purely on her, but maintaining his silence, he spread her knees wide, opening up her most intimate parts for his personal perusal. Still in total silence, he lowered his head momentarily, before lifting it again. “Oh, Paige, your pussy is just perfect. Silky smooth just as I demand.”

That was a relief. She’d guessed right then. Leon wasn’t a man who liked his women
au naturel
. Leastways not down there.

The time for her new life to begin was now, and she felt her breathing increase, heightening her awareness of the situation as Leon’s huge cock hungrily nudged the entrance to her sex. She’d always thought the male penis, although possessing an undeniable potency and attraction, could never be considered beautiful, but she was wrong. So very wrong. His cock
was
beautiful, achingly so. Big, too. So huge she was slightly concerned about taking it all.

When he roughly took hold of her hands and forced them high above her head, then laid his body over hers, she didn’t resist. Willing to submit to whatever he demanded, the first thing that registered in her thoughts was his weight and scent.
Mmm, both were delicious and intoxicating.
She sucked in a deep breath as she felt the tip of his masculine warmth probe just inside her opening, before crying out loud and squeezing his hands with all the strength she possessed as his impressive length and girth finally slid fully home, filling her completely.

Lying on the hood of a five-million-buck supercar, with her hands secured helplessly above her head, she was in no position to protest, and she didn’t want to anyway. Instead, all she could do, as he started to piston inside her, was open her mouth and breathlessly pant with the ecstasy of it all.

“Oh, Leon. Dear, God, Leon.” She’d had five lovers in her life, but she’d never experienced such a sense of fullness mixed with euphoria. Everything about this cocktail was right. The right man. The right time. The right place. Everything seemed to gel, and with Leon her life seemed to regain much of the sanity and joy it had lost.

As he continued to pump inside her, his head lay nestled in the crook of her neck, and were her hands free, she’d have enjoyed teasing them through his raven-black locks. Being restrained was good, but it had its disadvantages, and this was one of them. However, it was lovely to experience this beautiful man deep within her as she stared into a perfect, cloudless sky. With both of them clearly aroused, and closing in on release, she adored the way he forced his hands between the hood of the Caparelli and her butt cheeks, squeezing her globes so incredibly hard it hurt, making her cry out again. But Leon clearly knew how to please a woman, and as compensation for the pain he’d caused her, he pushed a finger deep inside her ass. A sensation she’d always found exquisite.

With his hips flexing athletically, he nipped at her neck, causing her to flinch. “You like the pain, don’t you? It turns you on.”

“Yes,” she truthfully replied. He understood her. Their needs were the same. Now he’d set her hands free, she stroked them down his back. Christ, how she longed to score her fingernails into his powerful muscles, but his linen shirt, complete with its designer silk tie securing the collar, frustrated any attempt to enjoy more flesh-on-flesh contact. However, the way they fitted together so perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, she knew there would be other times. For now, she wrapped her legs around his energetically thrusting ass, forcing his magical prick deeper inside her.

His finger still ruthlessly probed her butt hole, and without any lubrication it hurt like hell on earth. But everyone in this world was different, and she enjoyed the pain, savored it even. Truth be known, she’d always been attracted to the pleasure-pain combo, and decided to find out if he liked it, too. She guessed he did. Fisting a hand into his beautiful locks, she pulled hard, curious to see if she had the power to force his face from the crook of her neck. She couldn’t. In fact, she didn’t stand a goddamn chance of bending him to her will. Oh, yeah, he enjoyed pain as much as she did, because the only thing that happened was his thrusting became more urgent, and his finger, already deep inside her ass, penetrated further. Such was her enjoyment, she thought it wise to voice her appreciation.

“Oh, Leon. Please, please, please.”

“You like it rough.”

“Yes.”

Finding a vigor and endurance that seemed almost superhuman, he thrust inside her…harder…faster…deeper.

From past experience, she was well aware that begging never failed to appeal to a dominant male, and as a vital part of her submissive armory she’d make good use of it.

“For pity’s sake, boss, please, please, please.”

Leon knew exactly what he was doing to her, and he was merciless in the pursuit of his pleasure and hers. She pulled his hair harder, yanking it, but still he refused to relent.

“Please, sir, please, please, please.”

Teetering right on the edge of orgasm, she grabbed hold of his peachy ass, and such was Leon’s physique, each individual bun felt pleasingly taut. Oh, God, the way he made her feel surely she had to overflow into climax soon? Then, returning the favor, she pushed her finger deep inside his asshole, making him rear up. This sudden change of position forced his cock even deeper inside her, bringing with it a raft of pleasurable consequences.

Oh, God, God, God. Dear God Almighty.
She was so, so close
.

His lips parted with the exertion, and his gorgeous, dark locks fell across his forehead, wiping away the perspiration that had formed there. When he finally exploded inside her, he roared out loud like a mating lion, causing his magnificent body to shudder against hers for what seemed an eternity.

Intent on sharing her newfound joy with this potent man, she submitted to nature and climaxed, too, not just once but repeatedly. Time after time, undreamed of pleasure pulsed around her clit. Her vaginal contractions caused her to wrap her legs more tightly around his body, almost to the point of crushing him, as she desperately milked every last drop of masculine seed from him, until he lay spent and exhausted on top of her.

The powerful silence they shared before this most intimate of sexual acts took place returned, leaving only their warm, heavy breath to finally slow, then perfectly synchronize as they lay entwined together on the hood of the Caparelli.

Paige had a new life now, and a new man to share it with.

It was eight in the evening and the setting sun was just starting to hide behind the live oaks. Feeling happier than he had in years, Leon whistled a cheery tune as he strode across the courtyard that led to Paige’s private accommodation.

He’d spent the best part of a half hour in his wine cellar, choosing the perfect relaxer for them both, and the bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild and two crystal glasses he held in his hand chinked merrily against one another as he made his way to her front door.

It had been three days since he’d pleasured her silken body over the hood of his favorite car, and he’d been on a natural, endorphin-fuelled high ever since. His first impressions had been confirmed. Paige
was
special, incredibly special, and she’d responded exactly how he’d wanted. He was right. They shared the same wavelength.

Tonight, they’d relax with a bottle of wine, and in the process learn more about each other. He wanted to know everything about the beautiful new lady in his life. What was her favorite food? Had she ever skied in Aspen, or even the Alps? What was her politics?
Hmm, perhaps I’ll leave that one for now
. Of course, he had her portfolio on record, which she’d needed for her job as his personal assistant, but that only contained simple facts and figures, information she was happy to divulge about herself. He was looking for emotions. He wanted to know what made the real Paige Palmer tick.

However, Leon needed to tread carefully, because in his experience everyone had secrets, skeletons in the closet so to speak. Just about every one of the seven billion inhabitants on this overcrowded planet had things they didn’t wish to discuss, or sometimes even remember. He was no different, because even he had memories and episodes in his life which he found painful to relive.

My mother’s illness and my father’s death
.

The same went for sex. They were both into the D/s lifestyle, but for now he’d play it cool and not pressure her into accepting hard limits she wasn’t comfortable with. He could always renegotiate at a later date as their relationship blossomed.

Leon rapped three times on the door and waited. He knew she was in because her arthritic beige Ford lay slumped on the driveway. Luckily for him, a screen of mature spruce and juniper bushes hid it from the main house. If ever a car needed a visit to the crusher, it was this one.

He’d told her he was going to visit friends in Denver, so she had no idea he was coming over tonight. That meant he had the element of surprise on his side. He smiled as her feminine shadow, concealed by the frosted glass in the front door, made its way toward him. Leonardo Caparelli always made it his business to seek the advantage, whether that be at work or play.

As Paige opened the door, she immediately put her hand to her chest in shock. He’d caught her cold all right. She wore a facemask that cracked with surprise as soon as she saw him. The dried brown goo looked incongruous next to her stunning green eyes, and he had trouble stopping himself laughing. With a stoic restraint he was proud of, he just about managed it. A sexless, quilted robe fell to her ankles, as well as being securely buttoned right up to her neck. When he looked down, he was amused to see a pair of slippers his grandmother would choose. The old-fashioned type with big fluffy pompoms. Oh yeah, he’d certainly caught her cold, and this gave him one hell of an advantage.

“Leon, I thought you were—”

“Hank called me earlier. Told me he’d come down with food poisoning, along with Jake. So the poker game was cancelled. Too bad, and I was feeling lucky tonight.”

He’d never seen her look so self-conscious and downright embarrassed, and he gleefully reveled in her discomfort. “Oh…oh…I’m sorry to hear that, I’d invite you in but—”

“Thanks for the offer.” He’d always had a mischievous side to his nature, and he strode past her, before settling himself into a comfy armchair. “Not disturbing you, am I?”

Continuing to look distinctly uneasy, she replied, “Er, no, no. Not at all. I was just winding down after work. I often curl up on the sofa and chill out with a good book.”

Leon knew she wanted to run away and hide, then come back all glammed up as though nothing had happened. What woman wouldn’t? But for now he’d enjoy the show. “Uh-huh, I see,” he said nonchalantly, picking up the paperback that lay open and facedown on the coffee table to keep her place. “
Little Women
by Louisa May Alcott. I’m impressed.” He guessed she blushed profusely under the mudpack.

“I really should go and change.”

“No need to on my account.”

She coughed self-consciously. “Well, in that case, can I get you a drink?”

He held up the bottle and glasses. “I’m way ahead of you.”

Almost in a panic, she grabbed them from him and rushed toward the kitchen. “I just need to sort out a corkscrew. I’m not exactly sure where it is.”

He really shouldn’t be so cruel, but other people’s discomfort, especially that of a natural submissive like Paige, was always entertaining. That was why it was incorporated into so much D/s sex play throughout the world. As he patiently waited for her return, he allowed himself to stretch luxuriously like a contented cat. In the six months relationship he’d shared with Cherise, he’d never once seen her without makeup. This was fine to begin with, agreeable even, but after a while he realized that the blonde supermodel he initially found so attractive was as shallow as a puddle of rainwater. She had no hidden depths. What you saw was what you got—a self-centered, money-grabbing bitch.

Paige was different. Even plastered in the mud-and-seaweed facemask, and dressed in something Mother Teresa would consider overly prudish, she still turned him on. Why? Because the real Paige would always be there, just beneath the surface.

Leon idly scanned his surroundings. In the two weeks he’d employed her, Paige had already stamped her own mark on the modest accommodation that came with the job. A selection of pictures now hung on the wall, adding color to the bland surroundings. He rose from his chair and walked around the living area, stopping briefly when the photograph of a large, hairy dog piqued his interest. He guessed it was once Paige’s best friend and favorite pet, but from the age of the faded image, he figured the affable-looking pooch had long since met its maker.

Right next to it hung a large framed picture of Paige aged he guessed about seventeen or eighteen. She stood between an older man and woman. All three of them were smiling, genuine happy smiles that reached their eyes, and he didn’t need to be Einstein to figure out that these good-looking people were her parents. Her mother, who in the photograph appeared to be in her forties, was an attractive woman, and he saw where Paige got her beauty from, because both mother and daughter shared the same captivating green eyes. There was an old saying, if you want to know what a girl will look like when she gets older, then take a close look at her mother. Well, that was exactly what he was doing right now, and he liked what he saw.