The Billionaire's Payment (BBW Erotic Romance) by Alexis Moore Page B

all the way home in the taxi.
    It was my eighteenth birthday and I woke up happy because my mother had promised to take me to get my hair trimmed and then to the West End for a day of shopping.  At the hairdresser’s I listened as she argued with the stylist who said my hair was too gorgeous and healthy to be cropped into such a short style.  She got her way and then I tried to smile bravely at her because she was happy, but I felt like a shorn lamb.  The next day as I tried to finger the unfamiliar short strands on my head into the style the hairdresser had reluctantly achieved, she walked into my room and said casually, as if the hair could be magically reattached, that perhaps the woman had been right—I looked better with long hair.
    Then it was my grandmother’s funeral and I watched the thousands of people who had come to pay their respects stop and offer condolences to my mother who painted a tragic portrait of grief dressed in Prada and wearing oversized sunglasses, with a snowy lace handkerchief clutched in her hand to dry the occasional tear.  In the car on the way back I reached out to take her hand, to let her know that I would miss her mother just as much as she did.  She raised the sunglasses and stared haughtily down at my hand until I drew it back.  Her eyes when she lifted them to mine were clear and showed no sign of recent tears.  Something inside me died at that moment as I realize that my grandmother was truly gone.
    At some point….hours, minutes later…I realized that he’d stopped spanking me.  We were lying on the bed and he was holding me gently while I cried.
    “Let it all go, my love,” he whispered, kissing my brow.
    I buried my head against his shoulder and did what he asked of me.
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
     Jared reached out, his eyes still closed from sleep, and found only an empty space beside him.  Sitting up, he looked around him wildly.  Then he smiled and sunk back onto the pillows, still exhausted from the marathon sex session that had finished only as the day was breaking.
    He couldn’t believe that Shakira  had had the strength to get up and do her morning’s yoga and meditation; he was tired enough for ten men.
    But then, he told himself smugly, she wasn’t the one who had done the hard work!
    He was still amazed at the way she had bloomed after the spanking.  She had awoken the next morning with a huge smile on her lips and a glow on her face.  After a short dip in the Jacuzzi—he had been too horny to stay in for long—she’d allowed him to blindfold her and handcuff her to the bed, and do with her as he willed.  The more he had demanded, the more she had given, allowing him to explore her boundaries and test her responses to various stimulants.
    The memory of her clit clamped and glistening between the redden, swollen folds of her pussy and her nipples wearing similar devices and extended to their fullest, and then some, made his cock instantly harden.
    He smiled ruefully.  She would be the death of him.  But what a way to go!
    She would have to ride him when she returned, he decided, reaching down to his aching cock.
    If she’s not here in five minutes, I’ll bloody go and get her!
    He wouldn’t, Jared admitted to himself as he closed his eyes again.  The only time she’d been away from him the whole week was for bathroom breaks and the half an hour she spent very early each morning doing yoga stretches and meditating.  He really didn’t  mind at all.
    The last week had been the most exciting of his adult life.  He’d shaken his head in sheer disbelief when he’d realized only as he’d collapsed beside her on the bed that very morning, that in the entire time they had been together he hadn’t worn protection.  He hadn’t done that with any other woman, ever.  Being skin to skin with her had felt so natural.  A manmade barrier would have spoiled the magic of their joining.
    He understood how Adam had been tempted to bite that apple