The Billionaire's Ultimatum: His Absolute Need (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novel) (Book One) (37 page)

"It tastes
good," I said.  "Not too hot, but a little.  I can feel it, but it
cools down quickly."

Asher nodded. 
Going back for more, he swirled his finger into the liquid chocolate, then
picked it up and plopped it onto my nipple.  With long, gentle strokes from his
tongue, he lapped up his chocolate treat.  I arched my back.  The flash of heat
on my nipple, then the subsequent twirl of his tongue cleaning it up sent
spasms through my body.  To make it worse, Asher angled his lower body in such
a way that he could grind against my pelvis and torment my clit at the same
time.

Then, more. 
Picking up the fondue bowl, he lifted it above my chest and dribbled it onto my
breasts.  Hotter coming straight from the source, the molten chocolate dripped
onto my body and flowed across my sensuous curves.  It formed a river between
my breasts.  Part of it snaked its way towards my neck, forming a pool at the
bottom of my throat.  The rest of the chocolate drifted down my stomach towards
the center of my body.  Myriad little streams of gooey delight cascaded along
the side of my body, while most of the remainder settled into my belly button. 
A very small amount continued on, stretching across the hood of my clit, to my
labia, to the base of Asher's cock.

Wherever the
chocolate touched, it felt like the warmth of a kiss across my body, but
without the pressure of lips behind it.  Tiny, swift kisses, moving, liquid,
over my soft skin, tempting me.  Asher replaced the fondue bowl onto its
stand.  He pulled out of me, then thrust back in.  Out and in again, then out
and in once more.  I felt it, intensified, and wanted him to continue, to smear
chocolate all over my body and kiss me and make love to me.

He only thrust
into me three times, though.

"Asher,"
I screamed.  "My God!  I'm going to die if you don't stop doing
this!"

He stared at me,
blinking, and laughed.  "You're going to die if I don't give in and bring
you to climax?" he asked.

When he said it
like that, it sounded dumb, but yes, yes, I was.  And I told him that. 
"Yes.  I think so."

"Fine,"
he said.  Leaning in close, he gave me a peck on the lips, then gazed into my
eyes.  "It's time, right?" he asked.

For a baby, he
meant.  It wasn't like we ever stopped having sex, but today and these few
upcoming days fit my monthly schedule for becoming pregnant.  Asher said he
didn't want to plan it out and have sex because of a
requirement
, but I
didn't expect him to tease me to the point of wanting him to make love to me
multiple times over, either.  I kind of liked the latter idea, though.  If—was
this the beginning?  The thought churned in my mind,  We made love this morning
before we left, and then he'd teased me all the while on our tour of the
petrified forest nearby.  It was his suggestion to come back to the room for a
light snack, too.  We had a hike planned for later, but after that the rest of
our day was free.

That must be it,
I decided.  He wanted to torment me into desiring him so badly that I gave in
to him and allowed him to make love to me so much that we couldn't help but
plant a seed for the future.  Not that he needed to do the tormenting, nor did
my desire really ever wane, but Asher had a horribly twisted idea of fun in
these regards.

He licked my
nose, snapping me out of my daydream.

"Ew!"
I said, laughing.  I squirmed, entirely meaning to.  "Yes," I added. 
"It's time."

"One more
question, then," he said.  "Will you think about it?  If you want,
you can write in my office and when I have free time we can go to lunch
together.  Or do book reviews, if you'd like.  I'll help you find a paper for a
column.  I'll do anything you need me to.  I just want you to be happy.  I
don't want you to do it as a job, I want you to do it because you love it.  I
want to help you find your passion, because you've helped me find mine.  I feel
so alive now, Jessika, so much more than I ever was.  I..."

I stared
lovingly into his eyes at his admission.  Asher was never guarded with me, but
sometimes I knew he didn't know what to say or how to say it.  I understood
because I felt the same way at times.  The two of us, together, was something
that neither of us would ever fully be able to understand.  We would try,
though.

"Will you
marry me?" he blurted out.

I laughed. 
"Asher, you already asked me that before we left for this trip.  I said
yes."

"I
know."  He grinned.  "I wanted to ask again."

"I
will," I said; he looked at me for a moment, confused.  "I'd like to
write, I mean.  I think... I think that would be nice, you know?  I did some
writing in college and I enjoyed it, but it always seemed like a long shot, you
know?  Like, maybe doing book reviews would be better, and I know you can't
make much money from that, but..."

As I talked to
him, opened myself more to him, he slipped his cock out of me and then back
in.  Slow and steady, smooth, nodding to me and urging me on.  Not just three
thrusts this time, but more.  I knew he wouldn't stop again.

"I..." 
I bit my lip, split between focusing on our bodies coming together and telling
him my true feelings.  "Reading seems safer, and book reviews are kind of
like writing and reading together~oh!"

Asher picked up
the pace.  He reached beneath me and grabbed my butt, lifting me in the air
slightly.  When he thrust into me, he brushed inside of me at a new angle,
distracting me even further.

"I love
you," I said.  "I love you, Asher.  I'm just, I'm scared.  What if
I'm not good enough?  I don't know how to do it."

"I'll be
here," he said.  "You can only do your best, but I'll be here to help
you if you need it.  I'll always be here for you, Jessika."

No more talk
now.  Everything we needed to say we said.  It helped that Asher had teased me
so much that I really couldn't take too much more of his temptation.  I wasn't
about to die like I'd said, but I was swiftly coming towards climax.

Asher thrust
into me and I strained against my bindings.  The silk rope around my ankles dug
into my skin, soft and determined.  My thighs and calves flexed and my knees
found a spot by his waist to press in and pull him closer to me.  Asher pressed
tight against me, chest to chest, the chocolate mess mixing with our love and
sweat and smelling amazing.  He kissed me hard, not holding back any longer.  I
tried to pull my hands away from the rope around my wrists, to hold him tight,
but they didn't budge.

I squirmed—oh,
I squirmed!  For Asher, for me.  He pounded into me, hard, close, rough.  I
convulsed around his cock, my orgasm a constant, heady pulse thrashing through
my body.  He was fast, faster now, but I could still feel every part of him in
me, every flex and pull.  He kissed me and devoured the chocolate from the
curve of my neck.

"Inside
me," I said.  "Please.  I need you so much."

I twisted and
writhed.  Asher went over the edge.  He forced himself deep inside of me before
he came, and I felt the warmth and thickness of his fertile seed rushing into
me.  We were one, together.  We were going to be married, we were going to have
children.  I would be there for Asher, always, and he would be there for me.  I
loved him so very much, and the pleasure soaring through me, sending me high up
and making me feel delirious and dizzy, was only a small part of that.

He stayed inside
of me even after he finished.  It felt like so much more this time, like he'd
tapped into a previously reserved portion of his male potency and let it all
out just for me, just for this.  The bed was probably a mess underneath us,
covered in chocolate and his cream and my arousal, but I doubted either of us
cared.

"We should
take a shower," I said, giggling and grinning at him.

"What are
you laughing about?" he asked.  He laughed, too.

"You can't
keep me tied up in the shower," I said, "and I'm thinking of what I
want to do with you there."

"Are
you?" he asked, coy, lifting one brow.

I nodded.

"Let's
untie you then," he said.  "I want to see how creative you can be. 
It's good practice for writing, isn't it?"

"Mmh,"
I muttered.  "Yes.  Maybe."

I smiled at him,
watching him with the utmost affection, while he untied the rope around my
wrists.  As he did it, he never once moved so as to remove his manhood from
inside of me.

"I love
you," I said, kissing his cheek as he worked at one of the knots.

"I love
you, too," he said.  He paused for a moment to kiss me.  "I don't
know if we're going to make it into the shower."

I could feel him
coming back to life inside me.  "That's alright," I said.

T
he
end!

Writing
this story was a lot different for me.  It began as a serialized series, with
each chapter being somewhat standalone, and I honestly didn't really know what
I was doing when I started.  What I mean by that is that I usually don't write
contemporary romance, though I do enjoy BDSM themes.

I
never expected this to be so long, but the story sort of got away from me.  I
really enjoy when that happens, and it's actually my preferred way of writing. 
I tend to let the characters do their own thing, and give them specific points
they need to reach along the way.  Sort of like a road map, you know? 
Sometimes they take the back roads, or other times they go speeding down the
highway, but eventually they reach their destination.

I
kind of expected this to be the end, but I loved this idea, and this world, and
these characters.  I tend to do that a lot, too.  I'll get really into writing
about some specific characters, and then I won't want to stop.

Anyways! 
Saying that, I started more.  The Billionaire's Paradigm is the sequel to The
Billionaire's Ultimatum series.  I started it as a serialized version, also,
because it means I can write more, faster, and make people happy by giving them
the story as it goes.  Everything is somewhat standalone in that you don't need
to read the rest, but it's not a bad idea to read the entire thing in order,
you know?

The
Billionaire's Paradigm will also be available in trade paperback and a full-length
novel e-book later in 2013, so if you liked this book, I'd really suggest
keeping an eye out for that.  As of now, the entire series is finished and
available to buy individually if you want, too.  You can get updates about
future stories on my website if you want, and you can sign up for my newsletter
to get even more.  I've got a lot to offer, so I hope you'll check it out! 

It
is a different type of story, with some new characters, but Jessika and Asher
and Jeremy make some appearances, too.  I think Elise Tanner and Lucent Storme
are just as interesting in their own ways, and different in a lot of ways, too.

I
do have more stories, too.  Most are available as e-books, though I'm trying to
branch out into audiobooks and more print books, too.  For me, 2013 is going to
be a very exciting year, and I hope you'll stick with me to see all of the
plans I have.

I'm
always so grateful and surprised at the amount of people who read and enjoy my
books, so I want to take a moment to thank you for reading this, too!  It took
a lot of time and effort and I put a little part of me into this, so I hope it
shows.  I hope you loved the characters as much as me, and I really hope you
enjoyed the book.  If you did, I love reading comments, and it helps me a lot of
you'd rate and review this online, and tell your friends, and all of those fun
things.

I'm
an indie author, without a huge corporation backing me, so I end up doing
almost all of this myself.  It's a lot of fun, but it's harder in a lot of
ways, too.  I rely on readers like you, and I think we have a closer
relationship because of that.  I'm always around and willing to listen to story
comments, questions, or ideas, and I hope you'll help me out by sticking with
me and supporting me, too.  My email is
[email protected]
if you ever
want to send me a message.  I enjoy hearing from people!

Thanks
so much for reading this.  Bye for now!

~Cerys

P
lease
enjoy this sample from the sequel to this novel, "His Absolute
Obsession," the first in
the Billionaire's Paradigm
series, by
Cerys du Lys

~*~

Snow fell in fluffy white flakes
outside, covering the empty streets in a heavy winter frosting.  I stood inside
behind the library's counter, warm, staring at it.  It was a Friday afternoon
and the library was almost entirely empty.  No one wanted to go out during the
storm, and honestly I couldn't blame them.  I didn't want to go out in the
storm either, but this was my job and...

And
almost everyone else had called out sick.  The weather reports claimed a
record-breaking seventy-eight inches and the news anchors kept going on and on
about how this hadn't happened since 1921 in Silver Lake, Colorado.  Apparently
back then they received seventy-six inches in twenty four hours.

And
on, and on, and on.  Numbers.  Forever.

I
liked the news as much as the next person, but didn't they always exaggerate
the weather?  It was hard to tell sometimes.  When they called for rain, it
didn't rain.  Sun begot rain, and snow became a wintry mix, and nothing ever
truly turned out like it was supposed to.

That's
what I thought, anyways.  Staring at the snow now, I reconsidered my opinion.

"Hey,
Elise?"

I
turned, eyes glazed from watching the snow fall.  "Yes, Margaret?"

"Do
you mind if I take off early... I mean, it's just you and me, you know?  And
there's no one here.  Even Rob didn't come in, so..."

I
shrugged. "I guess. Sure. I won't say anything."

"Maybe
you should leave, too?" she added. "I doubt anyone's going to show
up. It's getting kind of bad out there."

I
worked in the library every weekday after my college courses, but those were
canceled for today.  Usually my shifts ended at nine in the evening.  Currently
it was four o' clock.

"I
can't," I said. "Someone has to close down, right?"

Margaret
looked at me and sighed. "You're always like this, you know? I don't
understand it. I know you like libraries, but aren't you taking the call of
duty too far?  Even
Rob
didn't come in and he runs the place."

I
laughed. "His daughter just had a baby!  He took the whole week off.
Otherwise I bet he would've come in no matter what."

"Maybe..." 
She didn't sound convinced.  "Just be careful, alright?  It's getting
pretty bad out there."

"I
can see that," I said, staring pointedly out a window again.  "I'm
sure it'll stop soon."

"Yeah,
you're probably right." Margaret grabbed her coat and hat and gloves from
a cubby behind the library counter and bundled herself up.  "Well, ta-ta,
Miss Tanner!"

"Pip-pip,
cheerio," I said in reply, grinning.  Neither of us was English, and I
doubted English people even said half the things we said to one another, but it
sounded fancy sometimes.  Or different, at least.

Margaret
opened the door to the library, sending the bell above it a tinkling fit.  A
rush of harsh wind blew inside, bringing a gust of snow with it, and she
hurried through it and shut the door hard behind her.  I watched her leave,
gazing off into the winter wonderland long after I lost sight of her.

And
now what?  I was alone in the library in the middle of a supposedly
record-breaking snowstorm.

I
brought up the weather on the library com-puter and scanned through the
forecast.  Seventy-eight inches, running through until late tomorrow
afternoon.  Except now it was even worse, apparently. The snow
might
stop, but
another blizzard was headed this way and could keep the city blanketed in white
for another day or two after.

Unfortunately,
as a little ticker scrolling across the monitor's screen stated, it was
unlikely we'd beat out the "one storm" record of
one-hundred-eighty-nine inches that happened during 1959 in Shasta Ski Bowl,
California.  Oh, yes, I thought, how unfortunate.  Were they serious?

Seventy-eight
seemed like plenty to me.

I
checked my e-mail while I was at it.  Nothing.  Nothing.  Spam.  And an
invitation to a Snowed-In party from the local sorority.  They wanted to
formally invite everyone to their sorority house during the storm for a party. 
If the power went out, they had plenty of food and beverages to last for the
weekend, plus candles, blankets, and more.  Plus, it said, with so many people
in one place, it'd be easy to find a cuddle partner to keep warm.  Or more.

More. 
Yes.  Ugh!

I
groaned thinking about it. Why did most college people have this mindset? 
Granted, I was older than most of my classmates, and going for my MFA, but
still.  Yes, let's just all act like it's the end of the world, wait for the
power to go out, and find some thinly veiled excuse to fuck someone's brains
out.

Ick.

I
disliked all of this.  I just wanted to go to class, finish my coursework, get
my degree and...

And
then what?  I didn't know.  What use was a MFA in Creative Writing with a
specialization in fiction?  I could write, and I did write, but sometimes it
seemed so hard.  How did anyone get their foot in the door?  Do I just...
write?  I'd taken some classes discussing this exact thing, sort of, but they
left me more baffled than before.  Quite a feat, too, considering I had
exceptional grades so far.  But I digress...

I
should do my homework, that's what I should do.  Except I decided to check
YouTube quickly, because who would stop me?  Rob hated people using the
computers for personal use, but Rob wasn't here, and no one else was here, and
no one needed the computers for non-personal use, so...

I
scanned the front page trying to find some-thing interesting to watch before
buckling down and studying. Nothing, nothing, nothing. My finger twitched,
accidentally clicking on a video. On the screen, wearing a crisp dark suit with
a silver tie stood Lucent Storme.

Lucent,
the description of the video said, was the newest Director of Public Relations
for Landseer Enterprises.  He had taken over for Solomon Royce who was involved
in some severe scandals during the middle of last year.  The description went
on to describe all this, then more, and I gave up reading and just watched the
video after that.

Lucent
Storme talked about the future of Landseer Enterprises and how he'd do his best
to keep everything crystal clear.  Public relations should be about the public
and continually fostering positive regard, not the archaic practice of
diffusing bad situations when they arose and acting oblivious to general
interest otherwise.

Lucent
Storme sure could talk, I thought.  He said a lot of words and they sounded
nice, but was that really it?

I
didn't like him.  Not just because of the shady look he had.  Yes, he wore
dressy clothes and looked nice.  And, yes, he looked really nice.  Lucent was
handsome, alright?  I knew this, and I also knew he'd never look twice at
someone like me, so I didn't know how he could talk about continually fostering
positive regard.  It sounded great in theory, but it just didn't work.  People
like him never associated with people like me.

The
library was only a few blocks away from Landseer Tower and I never saw him or
Asher Landseer, or anyone like them.  I saw Jessika once, Asher's new wife
after his mutually agreed upon divorce(My God what a disaster that sounded
like!  The tabloids were abuzz after it happened.  Mutually agreed upon after
the man she was having an affair with tried to kill her husband?  I really hope
he never considered staying with her afterwards, anyways).

Jessika
was supposedly normal, but I doubted it.  She looked nothing like any normal
person I'd seen.  What had she done before marrying Asher?  Well, nothing.  She
graduated from college, took on small jobs, and then met him, and that's it.

Fairytales
and fantasies, really.  Except what use would someone like Asher Landseer have
with a girl like that?

There
were rumors about what Lucent Storme looked for in a woman, though.  He was
into the darker sides of sexuality.  At least according to the common gossip of
the day.  I shouldn't involve myself in that, but I currently had little social
life to speak of(quite evident by my situation during this record-breaking
snow-storm), and I enjoyed thinking about it.

For
creative reasons.  I was majoring in Creative Writing afterall.

The
video finished and a list of other recommended videos popped up. I clicked out
of the internet browser, forcing myself to begin committing to my studies.
Grabbing my book bag from behind the library counter, I hefted it up and pulled
out one of my books. I needed to read chapters 3 through 8 by Monday, then
write a five page paper.

Why
read behind the counter, though? That's what I usually did just in case someone
came in and needed help.  Rob hated people using the computers, but he loved
for us to read back here.  It made us seem more bookish, he said.  Librarians
reading books?  Who knew?

I
decided not to spend more time back here than necessary, though. I had the
entire library at my disposal, and while it wasn't the most up to date place
ever, I liked it here.

I
loved it, actually. I knew this was kind of dumb, and the job didn't even pay
very well, but I loved it here.  Margaret probably thought I didn't want to
leave in case Rob found out, but that wasn't it.  I didn't want to leave
because I didn't want to leave.

I
wanted a library one day, some massive, expansive affair of my own.  In my
giant house.  Or maybe the library was my house?  I'd set up a dining table in
the center and put my bedroom on the second floor in between squared off
shelves.  The bathroom could be the only regular room in the house, and
everything else should be creatively crafted using bookshelves and ladders,
scaffolding, steps, nooks, crannies, hideaways, this and that, books. 
Everything.

I
waltzed through the library, imagining this was that.  My feet danced lightly
across the thick carpets and I scurried over to the children's section.  The
children's section had beanbags around a small stage area where local authors
came and read stories now and again.  Or librarians did otherwise.  I never
read a story.  I liked children, but I got nervous speaking in groups.

Silly,
really, because right now I was dancing through the library as if I were some
elegant lady of well-renown, social and graceful and witty beyond belief.  I'd
say some cunning joke and the entire room around me would laugh.  Oh, yes.

Not
really.

I
plopped into a bean bag and opened my book to chapter 3.  Skimming through the
introduction, I settled into the meat of it.  This wasn't a fun book, though. 
There were no dashing heroes and ladies of well-renown.  No social grace and
ballroom dances or fancy dinners.  No romance, no high adventure.  No love;
lost, forgotten, or otherwise.

No,
it was a school book, and on any other day I'd read it and study and force
myself into it no matter what, but on this snowy, lonely day, I soon found
myself drifting off to sleep.

I
awoke, or I thought I did, and saw a man.  He stood in front of me wearing a
dark, crisp suit with black shoes and a grey tie.  Smirking, he looked down at
me.  He stared at me, into me, and for a moment I felt anxious.

Then
I realized I must not have woken up, because he was definitely Lucent Storme
and why would he be in the library?  Or, for that matter, why was I dreaming of
Lucent Storme?  A nightmare, probably.  Some dismal addition to my dreamworld
meant to scare me awake. I'd find myself in a cold sweat upon returning to
reality.  Was it snowing outside still?

Lazily,
I turned to peer out one of the windows, ignoring the dream man in front of
me.  Why I looked out a dream window, I didn't know, but, yes, it was still
snowing.  The snow reached halfway up the windows now, and showed no signs of
stopping.

The
man in front of me cleared his throat.  "Hello," he said.  "Am I
interrupting your nap?"

I
yawned and stretched my arms above my head.  My book rested against my chest, pushing
into my breasts as I arched my back.  When I brought my hands down, the book
ended up resting just beneath my breasts, holding them up and putting on a
show.  What did I care, though?  I was dreaming.

"Quiet
little one, are you?"  Lucent stared at my breasts.  This, I thought, was
how I should know he wasn't real.  "What if I were looking for a
book?"

"I
hardly think it necessary," I said, yawning once more, "to deal with
figments of my imagination."

"Is
that what I am?" he asked, raising one brow.  "I daresay this is news
to me."

"I'm
dreaming," I added. "I fell asleep in the library and I'm sure it's
time to leave soon."

"Yes,
well, don't count on that," he said.  "I was trying to leave, too,
except there's no way out.  The subway system is shut down, my car is snowed in
at the garage, and the taxi company laughed at me when I called for a cab.  I
would've stayed where I was, but the damnable building has an automatic power
shut off for the weekends and I don't relish wandering around in a dark office
for the evening."

"What?"
I asked, sleep drifting away from me.  Now that I thought about it, I didn't
really feel like I was asleep.  And, while mostly clean, this man's suit had a
few telltale signs of an outdoor snow adventure.  Damp, disheveled hair, too.

Tousled
and handsome, close-cropped.  Lucent glared at me, eyes glimmering with some
devilish recognition.  What did he see in me and why?

And...

"Oh
my God," I said.  "You're Lucent Storme."