The Billionaire's Curvy Conquest - Complete (6 page)

But I could sense his hesitation. Was he trying to decide whether I was telling the truth?

“Please,” I begged some more.

“You have no idea how much I want to feel your tight sheath grip my bare cock, Cassie. Or how badly I want to come deep inside of you.”

His breathing was ragged and I knew that he was struggling with his decision. But I also knew that when he called me by my first name, his desire was nearly out of control.

“I want that, too, Mr. Reed,” I said. Blindly, I reached out and found his cock. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and stroked his length. “I need that.
Please
.”

With a primal groan, he lifted my legs behind my knees, which sent my upper body tumbling back against the soft bed. With a single thrust, he buried himself inside of me.

“Yesss,” I hissed, clutching the bedcovers as pleasure coursed through my body at his forceful penetration. The feeling of being so full and so connected to Mr. Reed sent me soaring.

He stayed that way for a long moment without moving, his cock buried tip to root, my fleshy inner thighs pressing against his hips. I felt his fingertips at my lips.

“Take the chain between your teeth,” he instructed.

Dutifully submissive, I parted my lips and closed around the chain, which applied gentle pressure to the clamps on my sensitive nipples. I wriggled my hips against Mr. Reed’s cock.

“Patience, my beautiful, curvy Cassie,” he groaned, trailing his fingers down my belly and across the insides of my thighs. “You may have control of the nipple clamps, but your naked pussy is all mine. Let me savor your silky warmth, tease your pink nub of pleasure, revel in the wetness of your arousal. ”

Mr. Reed,
the poet
, proved his point by pressing his thumb against my clit while inching his stiff cock out of my tight sheath and gliding back in...oh-so-slowly. I was so wet, that his movements were completely smooth and fluid.

I whimpered in protest at his teasing and thrashed my head, which tugged on the chain attached to my breasts. The onslaught of pleasurable sensations was driving me wild with need. If he didn’t fuck me hard and fast soon, I was pretty sure I would die from want!

As if he could read my thoughts, Mr. Reed increased his pace, pumping his cock out and back in, harder and faster, his thumb circling my clit. With his pace quickened, my large breasts bounced on my heaving chest, tugging the clamps in time to his thrusts.

It didn’t take long for my second climax to reach its crest. I threw my legs around his waist when I came, drawing him deeper as my pussy clenched and released his rod. Letting the chain slip from between my teeth, I cried out. “Oh! Yes! YES!”

Mr. Reed gripped my hips then, and pounded his cock into my pussy, harder and deeper, his thrusts frenzied. Although the blindfold still covered my eyes, I knew what I would see if I pulled it off.

I could tell by the way he rode me that he was close. I bucked against him to deepen his penetration and his fingernails dug into my flesh. When his cock exploded deep in my channel, I felt a rush of warmth and wetness, and my lips curved up in a small, satisfied smile.

In that moment, I had a fleeting wish that I wasn’t on the pill. It was the fantasy of a young woman in love with a man she could never truly tame. The emotional moment caused tears to spill from my eyes, dampening the silk that covered them.

Mr. Reed finally stilled, his cock still buried inside me. His hands massaged the flesh of my hips marked by his passion. “Are you crying, Miss James?” he asked.

Formality was back.

He pulled the blindfold from my eyes. “Did I hurt you?” His concern was genuine.

I shook my head, blinking rapidly to try and get a grip on my emotions. “You were amazing.”

His fingertips caressed my cheek. “No, Miss James.
You
were the amazing one. The way you abandon yourself to the moment, accepting your own pleasure with so much passion, giving as well as taking...truly amazing.”

Had our lovemaking moved Mr. Reed, just like it had moved me? 

He pulled out and slipped the stilettos off my feet. “Come with me,” he said, reaching his hand out.

He led me into the attached bathroom and cleaned his come from my pussy and thighs with a warm, wet cloth before wiping off his half-erect cock.

“How do I take these off?” I asked, pointing to the nipple clamps.

“Very slowly and with great care,” Mr. Reed said with a slight smile.

He put his arm around my waist and steered me back to the bedroom. After pulling back the covers on the bed, I crawled in and propped myself up on my back using several pillows.

He loosened the clamps slightly and some of the pinching sensation receded. But it was replaced with a stinging sensation that bordered on pain. “Breathe, Miss James. Deep breaths. That’s it.”

He loosened the clamps a little more, coaching me to relax my muscles and concentrate on my breath. When he finally removed the clamps, he gently massaged my breasts and tender nipples with both hands, easing the recirculation of blood that was previously cut off.

I glanced at the bedside clock. It was just after one o’clock. “Will you lie beside me for a while?” I asked.

He slid under the covers next to me and I snuggled against his chiseled muscles, letting my fingers play with his dark chest hair. I could feel the thumping of his heart deep in his chest and knew that I would remember this night forever.

“You’re awfully quiet, Miss James,” he said.

“I guess I’m just basking in the afterglow,” I responded. “Can I ask you a question, Mr. Reed?”

“Only if I have the option not to answer.”

I glanced up at his face and saw his eyes twinkling in amusement. I giggled when I realized he was teasing me.

“How did you go from teenage hoodlum to self-made billionaire?” It wasn’t a secret that David Reed had spent his pre-teen and early teen years moving in and out of juvenile detention centers. That’s one of the things that made his success so admirable.

How did he turn his life around?

It took a while for him to respond. “I was an orphan, just like you, although I was 12 when my parents were killed during a drug deal gone wrong.”

I propped myself up on my elbow. “You know I was adopted?”

He nodded. “I know many things about you, Miss James. And yes, I know that you were orphaned shortly after birth and adopted by Mr. and Mrs. James before your first birthday.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Let’s just say that I have significant resources at my disposal and I make a point of knowing as much as I can about certain...employees.”

He investigated me?

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Were you adopted, too?” I asked.

I felt his heartrate increase beneath me. “Sadly, no. Young families want babies, not troubled pre-teens. I was placed in foster care and promptly rebelled.”

“What changed?”

“I learned something that served as a wake-up call of sorts. I was fifteen at the time and realized I had a choice to make. I could either take the path of my parents, and likely die young like they did, or make something of my life. I chose the latter.”

So many additional questions raced through my mind, but I could tell from Mr. Reed’s tense muscles and pounding heart that this subject wasn’t easy for him to talk about. I didn’t want our amazing night to end like this, on such a down note, so I decided to change the subject.

“What was it like to land on the Forbes 400 richest people list when you were just 35?” It hit me that I was a 20-year-old college student then.

“Bittersweet, I suppose. While I had managed to change the trajectory of my life, I didn’t have family or anyone special in my life to celebrate that milestone with. It can be lonely at the top, Miss James.”

“Why didn’t you settle down, find a wife, pop out a few kids?”

Mr. Reed laughed. “I suppose I didn’t meet the right woman at the right time. Not surprising when you spend twelve to fifteen hours a day hidden away in an office that’s only accessible by private elevator.”

I tilted my face toward his. “It’s not too late, you know.”

“For what?” he asked.

“To start a family. Lots of men father children in their forties.”

His look turned thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to bring children into the world without two loving parents who had a strong marriage. And, since I’m not the marrying kind, I don’t see offspring in my future.” He bent his head and kissed my lips tenderly. “I do, however, see more punishment for you, my sweet and curvy submissive. But not tonight. Your chariot shall return soon.”

I glanced at the clock, which was inching toward two.

Damn
.

Mr. Reed got out of bed and went to the bathroom, and I knew our talk was over. He returned with a robe covering his magnificent body. “I’ll walk you downstairs,” he said.

I climbed out of bed, readjusted the negligee so it covered my breasts and body as well as possible, picked up my shoes and followed him down the grand staircase. My coat was slung over the rail at the bottom of the stairs and I wondered who had put it there.

Did Mr. Reed have a whole team of servants on his confidential memo list? 

I slipped my feet into the Louboutins and Mr. Reed held my coat while I slipped my arms through the sleeves.

“Don’t,” he said, when I started to button it closed.

“Why not?” I didn’t want the town car driver getting a glimpse of what I was wearing.

“I want you to pleasure yourself on the ride home,” he said with a wicked grin. “With the coat open.”

“Wh-what?”

Was he serious?

“Don’t worry; Henry won’t be able to see.”

“Who’s Henry?”

“My driver.”

So that was his name. The driver never introduced himself. “I really don’t think—”

Mr. Reed kissed my lips to effectively silence me mid-sentence. “Don’t think, Miss James.
Feel
.” He took my hand and pressed it against the bulge under his robe.

He was hard again!

I audibly sighed. “Oh my.”

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t a request,” he said quietly. “It was a command.”

When he opened the front door, I tried to stop him. “Shouldn’t I leave the same way I came in?”

“It’s late, so that won’t be necessary. I doubt that anyone nefarious is awake at this hour,” he said. “I won’t expect you at the office tomorrow until after ten. Sleep in, Miss James, and have sweet dreams.”

In a daze, I walked down the front steps, forgetting that my coat wasn’t fastened. The driver, Henry, didn’t bat an eye at my state of near undress.

When he opened the passenger door, I looked up, startled by what I thought was a flash of light. I looked around; away from the house was nothing but darkness. I chided myself for over-reacting. Clearly, the light coming on inside the town car is what startled me.

I looked back over my shoulder and smiled at Mr. Reed, who was still standing in the doorway. He smiled back, just barely, before going inside and closing the door behind him.

When the town car got to the main road, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the seat. With visions of Mr. Reed in my mind and a small smile on my lips, I spread my thighs and plunged my fingers into my warm, wet depths.

T
he next morning, I took my time getting ready for work. I dressed in a stretchy, black pencil skirt topped with a red silk blouse. The color was a sexy reminder of what I had worn the previous night. The Louboutin stilettos completed my look.

Before I left my apartment and headed to the office, I called my mom. She answered on the first ring.

“Hi Cassie, is everything okay?”

“Hi mom. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“How’s the new job going? You don’t usually call me on a work day like this.”

“The job is great,” I assured her. “I had a late night so I got to sleep in. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, dear.”

“Didn’t I have a closed adoption?”

“Yes. Like I’ve said before, once the adoption was finalized, all records were sealed.”

“And nobody can get to those records, even if they have more money than God?”

“What’s this all about, Cassie?” She sounded worried.

“It’s nothing. Seriously. Just my own curiosity.” I hoped I sounded convincing.

“Well, I suppose that any information can be bought for a price. But who would want to access adoption records from over 20 years ago?”

“You’re right, mom. Nobody other than my birth mother and we both know she died. One more question and then I’ve got to run. Do you remember the name of the foster mother who took care of me before the adoption went through?”

“Gladys Casey. That’s Casey with a C. She was about 50 years old then, which would make her almost 80 now if she’s still alive.”

“Gladys Casey, got it.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay, Cassie?”

“Absolutely, sure. It was just bugging me that I couldn’t remember Gladys’ name. It’s silly, I know.”

“It’s never silly to wonder about your origins, dear. Your dad and I are so grateful to have you as a daughter. We’ve always tried to be up front about how we
chose
you to be our child.”

“I know, mom. And I love you and dad even more because of it.”

“We love you, too.”

“I gotta go, mom. Tell dad hello for me. I promise to get home for a visit soon.”

I probably shouldn’t have called my mom out of the blue like that because she did tend to worry. But Mr. Reed knew things about me, private things, and I wanted to know why.

Did he pay someone off to get a look at my sealed adoption file? Maybe, but I felt like I was missing some important detail that would put all the pieces in place.

That’s what made me think of my foster mother. Call it a hunch, or women’s intuition, but I had a feeling that Gladys Casey was the missing piece of the puzzle.

When I had some free time, I would find out if she was alive. And if she was, I would make a plan to pay old Mrs. Casey a visit.

~~~

I
arrived at Reed Technologies just before eleven. My office phone buzzed minutes after I sat down at my desk.