The Billionaire's Ultimatum: His Absolute Need (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novel) (Book One) (36 page)

I stood there,
quiet, knowing full well I had to deny him and leave.  I needed to.

"Yes,"
I said, a quiet utterance.  Louder, I repeated myself, "Yes."  I
stepped forward, fell into his arms.  We went to the ground slowly, huddled
together.  "I'm so scared, Asher.  I'm so scared.  I don't know if I can
do this."

"I
know," he said.  "I'm scared, too.  Please, just give me a chance,
though.  Please?"

Through my sobs,
I asked, "Will you give me a chance, too?"

He kissed me,
lay me on the soft carpets in the library and pressed his lips to mine.  I
melted and all emotion abandoned me except for Asher's love and affection.  Why
had I wanted to leave?  I knew full well why, but I was lying to myself about
the reason.  I didn't want to leave just for Asher, I wanted to leave for me,
too.  This was so new and unknown and before when it was more of a secret and
private it felt different and safer, but now that it was open and public I was
afraid.

We lay on the
carpet and cuddled and kissed, and I don't know when exactly it happened, but I
fell asleep in Asher's arms, my lips touching his, comfortable and close.

Beatrice and
Solomon were arrested and went to jail.  More of a high profile place than
anything, and likely far more comfortable than they deserved, but Asher never
wanted them to be in serious trouble in the first place.  He couldn't
understand what had pushed them so far, but he knew it wasn't up to him to
forgive them, either.  They'd entrenched themselves too deeply in illegal
activities to dodge federal offenses, and there was nothing more he could do.

To help out,
Asher had paid the exterminator costs for Robert's daughter, too.  It seemed
like the least he could do for the man after causing such trouble in the back
room.  The first day after the arrest, Robert was shaken up, but after that he
seemed peppy enough about it.  Later, the bookstore owner said that all the
news coverage and publicity surrounding the shop caused a boom in business. 
Asher grinned when he heard that.

He went to visit
Beatrice in jail sometimes, too.  He knew he shouldn't, but he went anyways. 
She was actually friendly with him now.  Her father never came to visit her, no
matter how hard Asher tried to convince him.  It only seemed to solidify her
point towards him that day in the bookstore.  He tried not to think about it.

And, actually,
it was Beatrice's idea for him to take Jessika to the Solage Calistoga.  She'd
already made the reservations and while he could cancel them easily enough, why
waste it?  Not that he needed Beatrice's validation, but she said Jessika was
nice and that maybe she was wrong.  Maybe nice people were fine, and maybe you
didn't have to be rude to people all the time in order to throw your weight
around and force them to respect you.

It was very
strange seeing Beatrice like this, but he liked it.  They wouldn't get back
together—in fact they'd already signed divorce papers and she'd agreed to it
readily—but he thought that after she served her time in prison they could
become friends.  Maybe they were already friends now.

Jessika visited
occasionally, too.  Asher left her alone in the room with Beatrice once when
Beatrice asked him to.  He wandered through the hallways, going to the guest
cafeteria.  It was a sparse, utilitarian place, but he liked the hot chocolate
they served.  He ordered two cups(one for Jessika later), sat on a screeching
metal chair at an empty table and waited.

It was a little
sad here, but hopeful, too.  Dark greys inside, with bars on the windows. 
Beatrice had her own cell, of course, and most basic commodities, cable
television, access to DVDs and books and most other things.  Still, it was
imprisonment.  But when he looked outside, he saw a glimmer of what the
prisoners must know.  A few birds chirped and flew around the prison grounds
and offered a view of happiness.

"Alright,"
Beatrice said, completely serious.

I listened to
her and nodded and I felt somewhat awkward but she'd asked specifically if she
could speak with me alone, and then Asher had left, so...

"I ordered
everything.  This includes chocolate fondue, but I don't expect you to..."

"I
know," I said.  "I heard you that day.  I was beneath the bed.  Asher
told you that, I thought?"

"Yes.  I
apologize for that.  I enjoyed hearing about Solomon's conquests.  I know you
two never had sex, but at the time it was exciting to me."

"Well..." 
Ugh.  Well, what?  "I'm not going to tell you about Asher and I, so please
don't ask."

"I don't
care if you tell me," Beatrice said, snooty.  Asher said she was
different, but I really didn't see it.  "I just don't want you misusing
the fondue.  I ordered it for a very specific reason, and if you aren't going
to use it for that then I'd prefer if you tossed it out."

"Alright,"
I said.

"Alright
what?" she asked.

"Alright,
I'll use it for what you intended or I'll toss it out."

"You aren't
going to tell me which?"

"No!"

Beatrice
frowned.  "I wish you wouldn't be so difficult."

"Can't we
talk about something else?" I asked.  "I didn't think I was here to
gossip with you."

"Are you
going to still have his children?" she asked, all of a sudden, completely
out of nowhere.  From what Asher told me, she'd never asked about this before.

"I...
we..."  I didn't know what to say.  "Yes, but naturally."

"That's
nice," Beatrice said.  She smiled, and I think it was the first time I'd
ever really seen her looking genuinely happy without a streak of meanness at
all.  "Well, you can go now.  I have things to do.  I would like it if you
came back and told me about your trip."

"Have you
thought about becoming a writer?" Asher asked me.

"Asher,
please," I whined.  "Not now."

He grinned and
looked me in the eyes.  Leaning above me on the bed, he hovered over my face
and kissed me delicately on the nose.  "I'm going to wait until you answer
me."

Why?  Why was he
doing this?  Or, perhaps a better question, why had I agreed to this?  We were
at the Solage Calistoga, back at our room, taking a break from our morning
fun.  For whatever reason(it hadn't seemed terrible at the time), I'd agreed to
allow Asher to tie me to the bed.  And not with something simple like a silken
shirt binding my hands to the headboard, oh no.  He'd gone all out, apparently
having purchased high quality silk rope from a specialty store.  I remember
laughing at that, and then laying on the bed, dutiful.  I spread my arms up and
to my sides, then did the same with my legs, and Asher tied each of my limbs to
the bed, leaving me spread eagled with my arms in the shape of a "Y."

It had seemed
amusing at the time.  Exciting!  Interesting and fun.  And it was all of that
up until Asher joined me on the bed, kneeling between my open thighs with his
cock poised and ready to enter me.  But, no, he didn't.  He built me up, and
then he waited there, just barely pressing the head of his member into my
waiting slit.  I wanted him to push inside me, but instead he asked me if I
ever thought about becoming a writer.

I pouted at him,
my face twisting into something akin to annoyance and desire.  "Please,
Asher?" I asked.  "Just a little?  I can't answer you right now. 
It's so hard to think."

He kissed my
neck and my breasts, teasing my hardened nipples with the tip of his tongue. 
His cock never moved, though, not an inch.  It remained tightly tucked between
my labia, ready to please me but refusing to do so until I submitted to him. 
Up, he kissed, back to my neck, my lips.  I kissed him back in a fever of lust,
hoping he'd feel my need and give in to me.  He didn't.

"Just a
quick answer," he said.  He kissed my nose, then each of my eyelids; I
kissed his chin and his cheeks.  "Yes or no, that's all."

I couldn't just
answer yes or no.  The question required more.  "Yes," I said softly,
fully intending on continuing to say more.

He immediately
pushed inside of me, but only a few inches.  I bucked against his obtrusion and
gasped.

"Yes yes
yes, Asher."  I let out a lusty sigh and pulled against the rope binding
my wrists to the bed.  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him deeper
into me, but with my current restraints it was impossible.

"And?"
he asked.

"Are you
really doing this?" I asked.  "Are you really going to do this?  I
don't know how you can.  You have far more willpower than me."

"That's a
lie," he said.  "I just get a lot of pleasure from watching you
squirm on the bed.  It's beautiful."  He leaned down and kissed my ear. 
"You're beautiful, and if you tell me more I'll go all the way in.  That's
all you have to do.  I love you, Jessika."

"I love
you, too," I murmured.  Steeling myself, I tried to fight against my
inherent need.  Granted, it was very difficult, what with about a third of
Asher's cock pressing into me.  I felt it, a warmth, a promise of more.  His
heat mixed with my arousal and, to tease me, every so often he flexed his cock,
sending a surge of pleasure and promise through me.  If I just stayed still and
didn't say anything, maybe I could find a way to get myself off.  This
was
exciting, but different.  If I edged my hips just so, barely moved, wiggled my
lower body up so that my clit barely brushed against his stomach(though this
was far more difficult than it first seemed), and...

"If you
don't answer me soon, I'm going to pull back out," Asher said.

"No no
no," I said.  "Yes, I've thought about it, but I'm not good enough,
Asher.  I do like to write, but I don't know what I would write.  How would I
do it?  There's a lot to it, you know?  It's not just writing, but editing and
then do I send letters to an agent, or directly to publishing houses?  Do I
want a big publisher or a smaller one, or do I self-publish, or..."

Asher thrust
into me.  My lower lips kissed around the shaft of his cock like a lost lover. 
He was so close, yet had seemed so far away—if only for a moment—and now he
was back again.  Home.  With me.  Inside me, where I never wanted him to
leave.  He pressed deep into me, slow and relaxed.  I savored it, biting my
lower lip.  Asher tried to kiss me, to distract me, but I whimpered and refused
him, never stopped biting my lip.  He kissed me anyways, on my nose and my
eyelids, my forehead and my cheeks.  He kissed me until he was all the way
inside me, settled deep and fully, and then he stopped and watched me.

"Will you
go out?" I asked.  "Just once.  Out and in.  Slow.  I answered your
question.  Please?"

"Yes,"
he said.

Out.  What was
out?  I didn't even know, but it was wonderful.  Asher pulled out of me with a
slowness I didn't think any other man could possibly possess.  So very very
slow, the shaft of his cock dragging against my inner walls, teasing and tantalizing
me in wonderful ways.  The head of his cock flared as he flexed it, pounding
inside my pussy like a steady heartbeat.  I felt every minuscule piece of his
sexual flesh inching out of me.

Then back in.  I
quivered beneath him, resisting against my natural inclination to grind my hips
up and against him.  Instead, I squirmed.  I squirmed because it felt nice and
fun, and I squirmed because Asher enjoyed watching it.  I loved the idea of him
finding me sexier from something as small and inconsequential as that.

"Very
good," he said when he was fully back inside of me.  It wasn't nearly
enough, but I felt satisfied for the moment.

"Are you
going to ask me another question?" I asked.

"Yes,"
he said, but then he kissed me.  I kissed him back, relishing the touch of his
lips, reveling in the feeling of fullness brought about by his cock.

And then someone
knocked on the door.

"I'll be
right back," Asher said.

"No no no
no," I begged.  "Don't, don't."

But he did.  He
left me as easily as that, leaving me laying on the bed, naked and bound. 
Asher stepped over to the bathroom and grabbed a bathrobe from a hook hanging
on the wall, then draped it over his nude form.  He tied the cloth belt loose
around his waist and fixed himself so that his erection wasn't too obvious.

"It's just
room service," he said.  "I'll only be a moment."

I wanted to
scream at him, and possibly yell at the man at the door to go away and leave us
alone, but I was still naked in the bed and if I made too much of a fuss I
thought the room service man might get nervous and poke his head in a little
too far and see me.  I didn't want him to see me, I wanted Asher to see me. 
And Asher didn't want to see me, he wanted to answer the door for whatever room
service he'd ordered.

I listened from the
bedroom, but I couldn't hear much.  Some exchange of words, a hasty thank you,
and then the door closed and Asher wheeled in a cart of some sort.  On top of
the cart was a platter, and on the platter was an assortment of fruits, with a
fondue bowl in a wire holder in the center, and a lit tealight candle beneath
the bowl.  Asher pushed the cart to the side of the bed, untied his robe and
shrugged it off, then hopped back between my legs.

"In,"
I said.  "Please?"

As if this were
nothing, not even batting an eye, Asher positioned his hard erection towards my
slick folds and pushed inside of me.  Not slow this time, but steady, moving
back where he belonged.

"Mmmmhh,"
I uttered.

"Tell me if
this is too hot," Asher said. 

He tested it
first, dipping his finger into the melted chocolate in the fondue bowl, then,
satisfied, dragged his fingertip from between my breasts to my chin to my
lips.  I licked the chocolate from his finger, sucking and teasing at it,
trying to tempt him to stop these games and ravish me.