The Billionaire's Bride (Complete Collection) (2 page)

I
wanted
someone new tonight to release all my frustrations on. As I scanned the club, there was a lack of interesting faces. I wanted someone that didn’t fit in with the lifestyle I led. I wanted someone more of a challenge, someone that wouldn’t drop to their knees and worship my cock at the slightest tug of their wrist.

Someone who didn’t know I was a billionaire.

I dropped my arms onto the bar. I leaned over, letting my shadow spill over it as the blue lights of the dance floor flashed behind me. I checked my cuffs to see that they fell in a meticulous line, which pleased me to see—the tailor did his job well. I’d been slamming my fists and rushing in circles the past hour after hearing my father’s demands.

I needed to fuck. Blow off some steam. Do what I was good at.

I hoped that I could speak with Sean, someone I trusted to make a good drink and offer even better advice. The best type of friend. He was nowhere to be found.

A bartender approached me. Blond hair tucked in a bun, bubbly and athletic, she knew exactly who I was. I thought about taking her slim ass back with me, but before I could give her an answer as to what drink I wanted, someone placed their hand on my shoulder.

I glared to my left. Locks of blond hair, crisp blue eyes, and all plastic. Melanie. I’d never seen someone so constructed to fit in this lifestyle, someone so hungry to climb the ranks using their pussy as a stepping stone.

“Lucas,” she purred. She leaned closer to me with those huge tits. Softness brushed against me. I thought, “Not now,” but her hard nipples rubbed against me next and my stimuli engaged.

The bartender waited for my answer.

“Hell,” I groaned. “Give me a shot of whiskey.”

“What type?”

I leaned back and pointed at the first one I spotted on the top shelf. She scurried away. I turned to Melanie and leaned in.

“I’m taking you in the back.”

She beamed. It seemed to mean the world to her. Was she really feeling as gloomy as I was? Was she better at hiding it? I straightened back up. I snatched the shot of whiskey and downed it.

VIP hallways were hidden past the dance floor. They were completely dark, but ceiling panels lit our path as we approached. It looked like the top floor of a luxury hotel, doors spaced far apart for soundproofing. Melanie clutched my arm.

She was spilling out of her dress already. It was split down the front. Melanie was almost as tall as me, which kind of pissed me off, since I knew most of it was her heels.

I never really understood a woman’s obsession with trying to be taller than a man. I didn’t really understand women’s emotions, all of that relationship stuff. It never went well for me. I knew how to give them orgasms. That always seemed like enough.

I shoved open the door to my suite. After locking the door behind us, I let the familiarity of the room wash over me. Home. Melanie had been in the room before. She knew what the ropes hanging off the steel framed bed were for. She knew about the hidden panel in the wall which kept my paddles and gags. Where all of my dark tools were.

It was a sprawling space, but it was mainly one room with a bathroom. All black leather furniture leading to the bed. The walls were thick, so no one could hear the blasting of the bass, nor would anyone hear moans, women at their highest sexual abandonment, in the midst of orgasms that they thought were extinct until they met me.

Melanie thrust her dress off, letting it slide off her slender frame. She kept her chest held high to show off her exquisite, doctored breasts, created by the best plastic surgeons money could buy. Scars were hard to find. I tried my best last time.

My fingers clasped her behind the neck. I gave her a firm squeeze.

Her eyes twinkled at me. “I’ve been waiting to come back again, Thor.”

I hated when people called me that. I resembled him with my strong jaw line and medium length blond hair, but that was where the resemblances ended. I had light blue eyes, so light, they were grey. The ring of gold around them helped with contrast. I was strict with my exercise regimen, not because I enjoyed it, but because I needed it. It softened my edges. Every muscle in my body was crafted with purpose, crafted through hard work.

“Tonight I’ll be your god, but you’ll call me by any other god’s name. I hate that one.”

I hated to be compared to others.

It reminded me of my father’s wishes for me: Marry. Give heirs. Grandchildren. Little budding versions of him that would run the company in my stead.

I wasn’t good at that.

My cock inched forward. My balls surged. Frustration boiled over. When it broke over me, it seemed to evaporate into the air, only to be replaced by that horny demon inside me, raging and howling, breaking free of its chains. My razor sharp focus honed in on Melanie’s plump, cherry lips, then lowered to her breasts, on down to her pussy, nice and pink with a pubic heart.

“Whatever you want,” she said again. She tried to remain poised. I noticed slight twitching in her thighs.

She was nice and wet. Ready for me.

Good. I was hard, at my thickest and longest, in the mood for a hard fuck.

That was what I was good at. That was the life chosen for me.

A wife? A family? I might have been an asshole, but I wasn’t that much of an asshole. I would spare any sweet girl from myself.

“Suck my cock, Melanie.”

She dropped to her knees. Melanie was well trained. I started to unzip my fly, but I thought otherwise. Melanie was a good cock sucker. Not taking off my pants would be leaving my balls out of it. She was good at licking and caressing them.

I stripped off my jacket and my shirt. My throbbing cock peaked in my boxers. I took them off as well, then thrust my needy member to her lips. She opened wide and let me in.

Home, sweet home.

Stress left me. It might be the only time when it did. In that sweet mouth, my cock was all I thought about. Usually, I would use a girl, wind my fingers through their hair and need to fuck their mouth. Melanie was good at this so I let her go, letting her slurp and bob on me until she got all the way down my length.

She massaged and licked with her soft tongue, worshipping me.

“Get back up. Go over to the bed and turn around.”

Melanie wiped my salty taste off her lips. She shrugged it off and strutted over to my bed, letting me see her ass jiggle as she did. I could use more jiggle, but that pussy looked good enough, nice and tight for me to get off to.

“Close your eyes.”

She shut them, but I began to be pulled away, began to distance myself. Where was my blindfold? It surprised me that I allowed her to suck me off without it on. Taking a step back, I reached into one of my cabinets and pulled one free. I placed it around her.

She wiggled her ass back. Her silky opening touched my tip. Primed and ready, I ran my hardness against her slickness. She gasped. Her sex grasped to pull me in. I gave her the pleasure by slowly sliding inside of her, shoving open her tightness and driving until her end, filling her.

“Lucas, yes,” she hollered. “Fuck me, please,” she whined.

I swatted her ass. The sting bolted her back. I shoved her down.

“You don’t make requests. I command
you.
You can scream my name as you come. Nothing more.”

I pulled my hearty cock out. I shoved it back in. Melanie loved it rough and hard. I think she liked how I fucked compared to all those other lifeless rich boys. Maybe she even loved me for it. I wasn’t sure, but I was pretty sure that she just loved money.

“Lucas,” she moaned.

I let loose, hitting her grooves mechanically, without emotion, just punishing thrusts. Pinning her down as she shook, I spread her thighs even wider with my knees and she opened wide, giving me an even better angle.

This was what I was made for.

This is what made me,
me.
This is what I was
good
at.

My name resounded off the walls, so much I was sure that the soundproofing would be useless.
Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Luuuuucas!

She broke. I slammed my cock into her. Her pleasure swelled. The orgasm crashed over her. Melanie howled my name. She pushed herself free of my grasp as she came, but I shoved her back down, allowing her a moment of recklessness.

“Can I take it off?” she asked.

She reached for the blindfold.
No!
I caught her hand.

“You don’t ever take that off without me telling you. Got it?”

We couldn’t do this unless she was blindfolded. When I didn’t see her eyes, I could go through with this. I didn’t trust her otherwise. Blinded in bondage, it helped me.

Melanie dropped her back onto the bed. I pounded her against that firm mattress, but no matter how much my cock rushed into her, I couldn’t get off. After her second orgasm, in which she really struggled beneath me, she couldn’t last. I pulled out, giving up on coming for the evening.

Numb. Why was I so numb? I could fuck, but I couldn’t get off.

Melanie should’ve been asking if everything was fine. She was sucked into her hedonistic high. I couldn’t blame her.

I sat on the edge of the bed and got dressed. Sprawled out, Melanie panted at the ceiling.

My tie was finished. I was ready to leave. “You can stay here, or I can lead you out, but I need to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“When will I see you again?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. At least, I was honest.

“I’ll stay here,” she said with a husky moan. She leaned back against the pillows. “That was unreal.”

I gave her a curt nod. I left her to her post orgasm laze. When I entered the club again, that dark part of me seemed to take hold again. All of my stresses were back. Pressure nagged at my temples, slowly crushing me.

Sean waved at me from the bar. I sat on the stool.

“Whiskey. Quick.”

“Never heard of that one,” he said, grinning. “Actually, I hear it all the time. Here.”

He slid me a shot. I downed it. Burning down my throat wiped clear thoughts of wives, babies, and stocks, at least for a moment.

“What’s got you exceptionally brooding?”

“Father,” I muttered.

Sean’s eyes darted to the other patrons, but he remained talking to me, letting the other bartenders pick up their orders. “Brent stopped by. I wish he would really piss off.”

“He’s just doing his job. He’s good at it.” I liked Brent. He was almost part of the family. Part of our small family, which seemed to be getting even smaller every year.

“He told me that I should try to convince you of something.”

“Why aren’t you?”

Sean grinned. He leaned in. God, he was pale. It added to his charm of being one of the normal ones around there, though. Everyone else had bronze, Roman-like skin. It looked unnatural on most.

He took a wet towel and wiped down the bar. “Give me a second to try. I think you should do it.”

“Why’s that?”

He tossed the towel over his shoulder, then dumped it in a nearby wash bin. “Look at you, Lucas. You’re bored. You need something else.”

He was right about one thing. I was bored. Was a life of domestic slavery one I needed? I needed a change. Not such a drastic change.

My eyes scanned the crowd. Melanie hadn’t staggered out bow legged from my ravaging. All of her clones were out dancing. Everyone knew who they mingled with. A game of money played out on the dance floor. I wasn’t interested.

“If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. What’s the harm in trying? A lot of guys would die for a chance to be set up with beautiful women like the type you fuck and don’t give a damn about.”

“That’s it, Sean.” I stood up and shoved the stool back. “You beautiful bastard, you. That just gave me a terrific idea.”

I would use my father’s plan, meeting a group of eligible wives, to my advantage. Some of the chosen women would be groomed to fall at my heels, but some of them wouldn’t even know who I was.

I would fuck them. All of them. Divide and conquer. A new hunt to be excited about. Finally, women with backbones! Eventually, when they discovered who I
really
was, they would bow out, leaving no eligible maidens for me to marry.

In the end, I would be free.

A man like myself always needed a new challenge.

This would be my new conquest.

And no one could say I didn’t try.

B
rent opened
the door to a new world. He threw his arms up like this was my surprise party.

This would be where I was working? Or were we just having the interview here? There were so many questions I wanted to ask.

“Welcome, Ms. Nichols. I’m very pleased you showed up.”

I needed to get a long cab to this beachfront estate in Corona Del Mar, but I didn’t think I would be regretting it. Being inside this place of such exquisite beauty was worth the money. I peered up at the high ceilings, the stark white architecture and all of the windows that opened up to a beautiful blue reflection of the ocean. The whole house was open. The back half circle took in a wider view of the beach. In the front, it looked like a French chateau that curled around to the beach. A slight rocky dip lead to a private beach entrance.

The living room bustled with women. Could they be my competition?

I wasn’t one to be easily influenced by wealth, but the house was a piece of art, no matter how much money it cost. Eventually, the waste of all of the money got to me, and I grimaced at the beauty which surrounded me, wondering how much each item was worth and how I could easily be out of debt by pawning anything I saw.

Brent waited patiently. He always seemed to be smirking about some hidden joke.

“Come, Ms. Nichols, don’t get cold feet now. Go on into the living room. I will take your folder from you. Then I will explain more there.”

“You can call me Tia.”

“Yes, Tia,” he said. I took a step closer. He led me to the other women. That’s when I really wanted to bolt out the door.

They turned and glared at me as I approached.

I dressed nicely, in a shapely black dress, for what was supposed to be a “major opportunity,” according to Brent.

Some didn’t pay me any mind, but others clearly hated me at first glance. I sat down on the long, L shaped couch and tried to hide at the end. Whatever this was, I needed to know, and fast.

Waiters zoomed in and out of the room to refill glasses and hand out appetizers. I feared drawing attention to myself. My stomach knotted in hunger. These women were much skinnier than me, better dressed than me, and from what I could gather, better informed.

There was only one other black girl there, and she looked like a supermodel. Like black Barbie.

Brent wouldn’t tell me what this was about, but I didn’t think it would be anything I enjoyed from the look of these girls. There was one girl, in the finest, most eye catching jewelry, who stood leagues above everyone else in refinement. But even the others, who weren’t as properly dressed, had exquisite, beautiful faces like the movie stars of old, all converged on one meeting spot in their prime.

It was daunting. It was intimidating. I tried to keep my chin held high.

Brent took center stage. Hands placed flat and awkwardly on his thighs, he peered out to the front door. Whatever he waited on wasn't coming.

“I hoped that I wouldn't be the one to fill you all in, but it seems that's what I must do. Lucas had informed me that he wishes to tell you the details of what will go on for the next couple weeks. Or months. Maybe a year, depending on how long this goes. Who knows?”

If it was a year, they better pay a salary.

I was starving from the long drive. I succumbed, waving a waiter over. He jumped from formation and hailed me with a tray of tiny cakes. After I took one, I looked around, seeing everyone glancing my way without a drop of food in their hands.

I slowly pushed it past my lips and took a bite, chewing quietly.

Brent continued through my interruption as if nothing happened. Good man. “I believe most of you are filled in,” Brent said, zoning in on me when he said
most
. It seemed I was the only one out of the loop.

He continued, “So let me fill you in on the specifics. The LWM Company is looking for someone who can handle one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, the elusive and enigmatic, Lucas Moore, billionaire and current sole heir to the LWM Company. This is a tremendous opportunity for you all.”

Handle? Like babysit? I rustled.

“The challenge will go on for three weeks. If at the end of three weeks, no eligible wife is chosen, it will continue. We will continue until Lucas has found an eligible wife, one who is able to be the right wife, mother, and contributor to the LWM legacy.”

I waited for the punch line, but none came. The ladies all eyed each other up like wild dogs fighting over scraps.

Brent continued, but it all went fuzzy. There was a loud ringing in my ears. Anger and disappointment flooded my senses. It all came crashing down, like it usually did.

“I must ask that you all act like the respectable ladies that you are, which means this is a competition. Shady tactics will get you nowhere. Lucas is an honorable man. He can see right through schemes. If anyone is treating any other girl with disrespect, or is doing anything to game the system, Lucas and I will find out and you will be thrown out. You won’t have a chance at being one of Lucas' eligible wives.”

After hearing, “eligible wives,” I almost picked up one of the waiter’s plates and put Brent out of his misery. It would be for his own good. What happened to the jolly drunk I met in Bermuda? He'd become a billionaire’s pawn.

Hell, I wasn't going to be one, either. The thought made me sick. I needed to leave in a hurry.

As soon as I left the room, I heard Brent's droning stop, but he picked up once again.

“One is out the door already,” I heard a girl remark, followed by catty laughter.

Good riddance. I headed down the hallway, in a daze, my feet seemingly carrying me there without any effort on my part. I was too out of it. Too sickened. My only thought was escape.

Taking a right, the hallway took another turn, which meant I circled back toward the main room. I feared that I would once again meet them, where I would have to explain why I thought the whole idea revolting. I knew I would speak up. Brent wouldn't appreciate it.

Voices boomed in a long dining area with curved entrances, a natural harmonic chamber. A man, staring at the ocean, leaned against the wall. He listened absentmindedly, but his eyes darted from the beautiful shoreline as soon as I appeared.

Pool boy? That's what I thought at first. He seemed too fit, too normal to be the owner of the house. Too old for the pool boy, however. He only wore a muscle hugging, thin, white t-shirt, able to catch the breeze easily. He wore khakis and a thick, black belt. His hair was golden, in far contrast to his pale, otherworldly eyes. The afternoon sun shimmered over those pale eyes again, revealing a ring of molten gold around his pupils. This was the guy every heartbroken girl was ever warned about.

He tipped his glass back and wet his lips with water. I watched him chug it. Stopped in my tracks, I shook myself out of it and grabbed my folder left on the table.

As soon as I placed it against my chest, readying my escape, he asked me, “Going somewhere?”

“Leaving,” I said as I turned, figuring that would be enough.

It wasn't. It wasn't nearly enough.

He gave me a wolfish, wide grin, which told me that this wouldn’t be easy.

Another egomaniac that needed to be taken down a peg.

This man was now my target.

She was beautiful. Smooth, black skin, her eyes pools of amber, a curvy body that made me primal. Sure, she made my cock all tingly and happy, but that wasn't all. She interested me, not only in my usual need-to-dominate way, but because there was something deeper. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

This girl was special. There was no doubt about that. She couldn’t leave. Not yet.

Brent could go on forever. I was regretting ever agreeing to do this stupid scheme. Perhaps it would be better to simply hand over all the rights to the company before going through with it, but I felt trapped. There was no other option but to succeed.

“Don't leave, yet. Brent is going over the acceptable ways for you to seduce me. You wouldn't want to miss that.”

I took a step closer. My hand rested on the table. Her eyes darted to it, but she snapped back. She only thought about one thing—the door, and perhaps slamming it in my face.

“That's nice,” she said as she attempted to leave again. This time, she turned around in a huff. Her dress swayed, sliding over the swell of her ass. I caught the outline and almost screamed, “Good God.”

For a second, there was no other reason for talking other than lust. I needed to have that body under my control. The thought of ripping her dress over that fine ass and sucking my way down to her sweet sex hit me.

There was no way I wouldn't salivate like a wild dog at every sight of her. I knew my type. This girl was the epitome of it.

“Wait, what's your name?” I asked.

“Tia, but it doesn't matter. I'm gone.”

Her heels clattered down the hallway. The chase had begun. She would get to the door, then I would try once more... I heard the heels louder, faster; she was approaching me again.

She stood before me, tense and livid. Fuck, why did I always end up getting women so wound up like this? It might be record time for this one.

“You're sick. This little operation you have running here is the sickest exploitation I've ever seen in my life. I thought the American Dream couldn't get more corrupted. Now we have this lifeless show, this twisted game all for a rich man's pleasure. I hope you live life alone, because not even those horrid girls deserve your bullshit.”

Her nostrils stopped twitching. She relaxed her closed fists and bunched them against her thighs. I hadn't realized that I was smiling. It was like my world had opened up. Finally, there was light.

She's the one. My bride,
the idea struck me, but I shoved it back down. There would be no brides. There was a wicked game to play. My plan couldn’t be forgotten.

“I agree.”

I broke her confident stride. She wasn't going anywhere now.

“What?”

I took a hearty swig of water. I beamed at her, a wide smile that seemed to ensnare her.

“I said I agree with you. I think this whole thing is terrible. Do you think it was my idea?”

“You're going along with it.”

“Yes, I am, but not happily. There's more to this than meets the eye. Trust me, if I could get out, I would, but I have certain obligations.”

The ocean called to us. I pointed toward my private beach.

“Let's not talk about that, though. Let's talk about jet skiing. Would you like to go jet skiing with me?”

I impressed myself with my quick thinking. She wrung her hands with her dress, trying to come up with an excuse, but a smile curled on the edges of her lips.

“Come on, let's get out of here. You ever do it before?”

She refused to answer at first, but when I held the door open for her, the temptation was too much.

“No, never,” she said. She started for the door. She stopped at my feet, peering up at me.

Our eyes connected. I found myself unable to keep up my usual act. Melding into her eyes, erotic energy sparked, mingling between us. My breath hitched. I shoved the door open wider. Too weird? Where were my blindfolds when I needed them? Usually, I only needed it for sex, but she actually had me anxious and insecure, something that was new, and a little frightening, for me.

“Thanks,” she said.

The ocean breeze and her flowery, fruity scent mixed in one tantalizing brush against me. It left me buzzing, my head light. Gloom couldn't reach me now. I was actually excited, my adrenaline pumping like coming back from a long lifting session.

I led the way past the pool. She eyed it as we made our way around and through the open gate, leading past the garden and into the sloping path to the beach.

“Who needs a pool when you have an ocean at your doorstep?”

I shrugged. “It was there when I bought it. Some people prefer one or the other. Me? I'm ocean all the way. The ocean is a lot more fun.”

“It's been so long since I've been to the beach.” She seemed excited. Her rage had left her completely once we were outside. I imagined her running ahead, right into the water, leaving me behind. Bubbly, she remained ahead on the path, kind of steep, with rocks on the side. It was the only way down to the private area.

“This is beautiful.”

It helped it was a beautiful day; a calm breeze, open skies, and the call for adventure. We plodded through the sands until we came to the edge of my dock. A few boats were hitched there, and there was a tiki style cabin in the front, used as a place to drink and relax, but mainly to house equipment.

We headed inside. She was speechless as we crossed over the sandy wooden floorboards of the bar. The walkway departed from the open section and we were in something stuffier, the storage space. I handed her a wet suit. I grabbed mine as well.

In dismay, she held it up to her. I could tell that she wasn't impressed. She had flared hips. She had a round, plump ass, perfect for squeezing and digging my fingers into as I rammed that hot softness between her legs. Her breasts were ample as well, and I got the image of my thickness driving inside her, ramming her hard as I watched from above, adoring those bouncing breasts to my ravaging.

Ahem, I wasn't going to fit into my suit either if I started to get hard. I shut off that side of my brain...or tried my best to.

“There's no way,” she said, tapping her foot with a harrumph.

“Maybe? Just try it on. They look smaller because they're tight.” With any luck, it would hardly fit her and I would see more of her glorious, shapely body. Maybe I was being a little sleazy, but I couldn't help my baser instincts around this new, alluring girl.

Tia peered at it, but then rested it against her thighs. She waited for me to go.

“Right. I'll get mine on in the bar. Call me when you're ready.”

The black wetsuit fit me snugly, but it was crafted specifically for me, so I had no troubles. I hoped Tia wouldn't have any problems. I was really looking forward to an exciting afternoon with her. Jet skiing would rock her world. She seemed like the type to take right to it.