Submitting to the Billionaire

Chapter Twenty-One

Star

I think I am dying. It is the only way I can describe the sensation. Everything starts leaving me. There is nothing left in the world but me on that table with his hand sealing my mouth shut, my legs wide open, and the friction of his long fingers working me. Forceful, fast, possessive. Then even that goes and I disintegrate and become one with pure pleasure. Waves and waves of it.

But it doesn’t last. I don’t die. I come back. To voiceless sobbing and acute embarrassment. His fingers are still inside me, and I’ve squirted all over his fine furniture.

I look up into his cold eyes and I think they will mock me, but they don’t. His eyes are more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. I feel breathless. I am transfixed by his eyes. I feel as if I’m being sucked into them. The water is cold but it is impossible to resist. It pulls me deeper and deeper.

Slowly, he takes his hand away from my mouth and I inhale a shuddering breath. His head swoops down. To my shock, I feel him swirl his tongue in the folds of my sex. The strokes are luxurious, gentle, lazy, sure. My skin starts to feel like it is on fire.

He says something, but it is a guttural rumble to my ears.

He eats me out, taking his time, sucking, licking, biting, until another orgasm tears through me. I gasp for breath, panting like a stranded fish. He holds me through it all, watching me with those cold, cold eyes. I stare back helplessly.

I’ve never felt this way before.

Then he stands up, fully clothed, completely in control, and looks down on me. Naked, used, my legs wide open, my sex completely exposed. His eyes rove my body. I can’t name the expression on his face. It looks like triumph, satisfaction, and just plain lust.

In this moment, there is nothing more I want than him inside me. There was an aching void inside me, and I wanted him to fill it.

“Get dressed and go to your room,” he says, his voice harsh.

As I stare at him wide-eyed he turns around and walks out of the room with long strides, as if he can’t bear to be with me for another second. For a while, I am too confused and stunned to move. Then I quickly get dressed, and slip out of the room. The hallway is deserted and silent.

I run up the sweeping stairs and go into my room. My phone is buzzing on the dresser. I pick it up. There are seventeen messages from Nigel. I stare at them. Each one is more desperate than the earlier one.

Call me

Please call me.

I’m really worried here. Where are you?

Star. I’m going to call the police if you don’t call me soon.

Fucking hell. Call me.

Star. I’m going mad here.

Oh God. I can’t do this for a month.

Star. Call me. Please. I’m dying here.

Are you there?

Call me as soon as you see this.

There are more messages, but I don’t click into them. I dial his number, and he picks up on the first ring.

“Star,” he cries desperately.

“Yeah,” I say guiltily. I never thought of him once while I was with Nikolai. Not once.

“Are you all right?”

I take a deep breath. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been going crazy here.”

“I was having dinner. I told you.”

“Dinner? You’ve been MIA for more than two hours.”

“Have I?” My head feels fuzzy. I can’t think.

“For fucks sake, Star. What’s the matter with you? You are acting like you don’t care.”

“I do care. Very much. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” My voice sounds strange. I wanted the other man inside me.

“Star, I love you. I can’t do this anymore. I want you to come back.”

I feel that flash of anger. “Yeah, and what happens to my dad?”

To my horror he starts sobbing softly.

“Please don’t cry, Nigel. Please.”

“I’m sorry. I think I’m just stressed and worried. You sound like you don’t give a shit about us anymore.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you love me, Star?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” I feel good saying it. That at least is true. I feel guilty that I enjoyed everything Nikolai did to me and that I wanted more, but that is just a physical thing. I love Nigel. I love him very much.

“Has he done anything to you yet?”

“Yes.”

There is a shocked pause. “You mean he didn’t wait for tonight?”

I feel a flash of irritation. “No, Nigel. He didn’t wait. Just like you didn’t wait for the night to come when you were first dating me.”

“You didn’t enjoy it, did you?”

I’ve never heard him sound so unsure of himself. “Look, Nigel. I don’t want to talk about it, okay. For this to work we can’t talk about what I do with him.”

“You did enjoy it then,” he pounces.

“I didn’t say that. I said, I just didn’t want to talk about it. It feels too weird. This is just the arrangement you made.”

Suddenly the door flies open. I whirl around and see Nikolai standing at the doorway. His face is a mask of such rage I actually take a step back as if struck. I stare at him with my jaw hanging loose. There is a white band around his mouth.

I know I shouldn’t, I have no reason to feel it, but I suddenly feel as if I’ve done something very wrong. Nigel is saying something, but I don’t hear it. All I see is Nikolai’s blazing eyes. He strides towards me and wrenches the phone from my nerveless fingers. He holds it to his ear and listens to Nigel for a couple of seconds then he opens his mouth and I recoil at the utter contempt in his voice.

“Don’t you dare call her again while she is in my house. If I catch you sniffing around her again, I’ll break every bone in your miserable body.” His voice is so low and deadly I can hardly believe it is the same man who fed me a piece of lamb.

Before Nigel can say anything, he flings the phone towards the wall. It smashes on impact and falls down in pieces.

“Oh, my god,” I wail in horror. “My dad. The hospital needs to be able to contact me. I need my phone.”

I rush to the wall and crawling around start picking up the pieces. I try to put them together but my hands are shaking so much I can’t.

“It’s broken.” I look at him with hatred. “You broke my phone. How dare you? How could you do that? First you humiliate me then you break my property. You didn’t have the right to do that. I hate you. You’re nothing but a big bully,” I scream, and tears start running down my face. “I’ve got no phone now. You arrogant asshole.”

He stares at me, crouched on the floor, tears running down my face.

A muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. Something flashes into his eyes. Suddenly he looks confused or hurt. But how can that be? Then his jaw tightens.

“You’ll have a new phone in an hour.” He turns on his heel and walks out.

I fall on the floor and sob. I wouldn’t normally have reacted so badly, but the incredible emotions of the day must have finally caught up with me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nikolai

“You’re nothing but a big bully.”

The words reverberate around in my brain like an echo. I thought I had killed that motherfucker, but it is not dead. The past can never die. It lies down quietly in a dark well of sorrow, and when you least expect, it jumps out at you. After all these years. The scars have outwardly healed, but the ugliness underneath remains as vivid as yesterday. I turn away from her quickly. I don’t want her to see. Not her. I’m already too

exposed. Too vulnerable.

My hand shakes as I close the door behind me. I hear her crying and I want to go to her, but I won’t. It’s not safe for me.

The past. There is no escaping it.

It’s not dead.

It’s still calling …

Twenty-six Years Ago …

“Boys can you come down, please,” our housekeeper, Duscha, calls.

I turn instantly to my younger brother, Pavel. It is a late autumn afternoon, and we are both in our study room doing our homework. His head is bent over his picture book and his expression is one of intent concentration. It is possible he didn’t even hear Duscha, but any excuse to stop studying works for me.

“Come on. Let’s go see what she wants,” I say, jumping up.

My brother looks up from his book. His eyes are green like Mama’s, and his fair hair is long and curly. It makes him look more like a girl than a boy, but Mama can’t bear to cut it because it is so beautiful.

“Nikolai. Pavel,” Duscha hollers up again.

We race down one flight of stairs, then another. My legs are stronger and longer than Pavel’s so I get there faster, but I skid to a stop at the end of the hallway. Duscha is standing next to a man and woman I don’t recognize.

“Come here, little ones,” Duscha calls gently.

We do as we are told, but warily. There is no smile on Duscha’s usually cheerful, round face. My gaze slides over to the strangers standing next to her.

The man is wearing a hat and a long, black coat. His face is still and pale. The woman is dressed in a navy suit. She is so perfectly groomed there is not a hair out of place. Mama has the same pair of sturdy shoes as hers, but unlike Mama she has cold blue eyes.

Duscha nods and says, “Come my little darlings.”

I take my brother’s hand and we walk towards her, stopping close to her. She crouches, opens her arms out to Pavel, and envelops him in a hug, but keeps her gaze on me.

“Nikolai, these people work with your father and mother. They have … they have something to tell you both.” Her lower lip is trembling and she looks nervous and sad.