Chained To You - Chapter 2：Mia

I left the shirt unbuttoned halfway, showing a good portion of my chest and cleavage. After raking my fingers through my bob a second time, I hurried out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where James sat near the head of the bed, patiently awaiting my return.

Oh, he knew I’d return. He knew I couldn’t just leave him even if I tried. He knew I couldn’t leave him even if I wanted to. I was chained to him—for another five years at the least, until such time when the debt was all paid, to his satisfaction of course.

Oddly enough, the sight of him now still caused a shiver of trepidation along my spine. Perhaps it was because of that first time he’d taken me that hadn’t gone the way I’d imagined or hoped it would. What had I expected? A romantic wooing? Slow first kiss? Gentle caressing? James wasn’t my boyfriend. Perhaps it was because our relationship was so unlike any others I’d known. To put it bluntly, I was simply his paramour. I was nothing to him. Nothing.

He cocked his head to one side as he watched me, an amused smile playing on his lips. In his arms was Sammy, his Samoyed. He was stroking the dog now, slow and gentle but firm. Just the way he caressed me. Slow and gentle—firm.

My stomach flipped as he watched me. There was something in his eyes that always affected me in the oddest way. Now, like always, I felt light-headed and just that little bit breathless.

I came toward him and stopped a few feet away. It looked like he was in no hurry to ravish me tonight. He was still stroking Sammy and paid no heed to my attempt at seduction. Well, I knew nothing of seduction, of course, and standing there like a statue definitely didn’t count.

It eventually became awkward, and I hesitated. I was about to turn back when he said, “Unbutton the shirt.” His eyes were still on the canine as though he were talking to it. “You know how much I like it with the buttons undone.”

In that short instant, my temper rose. I was never good with people telling me what to do, particularly this billionaire. I had to admit also that my temper had never been this short before I’d met him either. Many told me I’d always been an easy-going girl, even during the storm of my adolescent years.

I managed to calm down, reminding myself that patronizing him would be no use, as it would only amuse him further. He basked in the knowledge that his words managed to rile me up, and my face flamed red with what he called a particular radiance, which he’d explained to me happened when “I fuck you long and slow.”

Refusing to think of those particular words, I looked down at myself and then slowly undid the remaining four buttons. Once done, I glanced up and saw James watching me. He was always watching me as if he was fascinated by me.

He bent down and released the dog. Sammy took the opportunity and ran to me, wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out at me with adoration. I bent down to stroke the furry animal—no doubt that particular billionaire opposite me was enjoying a good view of my breasts as I did so. After I’d patted him a couple more times, Sammy was finally satisfied and rushed with his short legs to the opposite side of the room. He made himself comfortable in his bed by the fireplace as I returned my undivided attention to my patron.

“Come here,” the aforementioned patron commanded softly.

My legs stiffened for a brief second and then slowly moved in accordance to the demand. I came to stand before him, between his knees. His gaze lazily drifted from my face to my chest and then lower to my breasts. It was as if he were caressing me with his eyes, slowly and intensely. I felt my nipples engorge into tightened buds, so sensitive even my breaths became short.

He gently fingered the material of the shirt. I felt like he was stroking my skin, and my body tensed with anticipation. I held my breath as he lightly brushed his hand along the line of the frills of my panties. His fingers trailed lower to the underside. There, he applied just that little bit more pressure, allowing himself to feel the lips of my pussy.

“You’re already wet,” he said with amusement.

I blushed and quickly shoved away his hand. Even if my body screamed how much it wanted him, I personally refused to admit the obvious.

He laughed and said, “Is that how you treat the birthday boy, Mia?”

I blinked and replied, “No.”

“Then how do you treat a birthday boy?”

He was looking at me now with that amusement in his eyes again, which both irritated and enthralled me at the same time.

“Be nice to him?” I pretended ignorance.

“Yes.” He grinned. “And give him cake… with cream. A lot of cream.”

The way he spoke those words made me swallow hard. I felt my core twisting and burning with need. I involuntarily rested my hands on his powerful shoulders for support because I knew I’d fall if I didn’t.

James wrapped one arm around the small of my waist and pulled me close. He touched his lips against my right nipple, lightly and gently, just a brush against my skin. That little action caused me to melt into him. My knees buckled, and I leaned farther against him.

When he opened his lips and popped my nipple into his warm mouth, I was almost done for. I clutched him as he sucked and then grazed and nibbled the sensitive bud. As he did so, I closed my eyes and could only feel the glorious sensation bursting within me. He did the same to the left one, and by the time he was done, I was shaking and my breasts and nipples were hard and glistening wet as pink pebbles beneath running water.

It was then he pulled me onto the bed and made me lie below him. I followed him without resistance, and then he was kissing my lips. When he urged me to open my mouth for him, I obliged. He plunged in his tongue, exploring me, making me breathless and out of sorts. I was quivering by the time he finished ravishing my mouth. He didn’t let me go there either. He continued his little kisses down my throat and lower and lower south. As he licked and kissed and tasted me with his warm lips and hot tongue, I closed my eyes and once again remembered that first time I met him.