The Beautician and the Billionaire Episode 5: Scene Takeover b

Welcome to the last post for Episode 5! Warning: Even though they don’t seal the deal yet in this scene, there is a lot of sex talk and foreplay. I definitely give this an NC 17 rating.

Tomorrow I’m realeasing Episode 6: The Banquet and Episode 5 will be on sale for FREE for a limited time! Come back here to get all the links!

Thanks so much for reading!

Charisse’s insides heated like a curling iron. She knew her skin betrayed her with goosebumps and a furious blush, but there was no denying she desired Conor. She feared she even wanted him more than her salon at the moment. When he offered her the salon if she agreed to be his for a month, her mind and body declared war on each other.

Her mind won, demanding details. She said, “What do you mean? How would I be yours?”

His hand tightened at her waist. He drew his other hand down to cup her breast and nuzzled her neck with his tender lips. His thick erection pressed against her hip demanded her attention. She wanted to take him in her mouth until he cried out her name during climax. But she stood still and relished the moment when he tugged the neckline of her dress below her nipple. He twisted it between his thumb and forefinger and pinched.

She bit the side of her mouth to prevent herself from gasping in pleasure. To her surprise, he tucked her breast back into the dress and slipped his hand up to wrap around the back of her neck.

He said, “If I tell you to take a day off, you take a day off. If I say we’re going to Puerto Rico for a week, you drop everything and pack your bags. If I decide I want you to be my assistant for the day, you get your ass over here.” His hand slid up and crushed her curls against the back of her head. “And you always wear your hair down.”

His demands roused her core to the breaking point, but her mind still clutched at control. She turned her head and forced herself to look him in the eye, something she’d rarely been able to do with Josh. She drank in the power of eye contact, of seeing him waiting for an answer. He wanted her to say yes, maybe so much that she could make her own demands.

“I won’t be your punching bag,” she said. “You hit me once, and I call the police. I’m never suffering that again.”

His eyelids widened just a fraction, hinting at surprise. “Good,” he rasped out.

She wanted to require something else. Asserting her will poured adrenaline through her body. She wanted more of that confidence. “Three weeks, not a whole month. And you and I are the only ones who know.”

He held her waist so hard that his nails dug into her back through the dress. “Fine. Does that mean we have a deal?”

There was one more question they hadn’t addressed. She allowed the silence to stretch out as she gazed back into his eyes. She could feel the heat burning at the top of her thighs. “What about sexually? Will my body be yours whenever you want me?”

She heard a rumble before he said, “Yes. Do you agree?”

His scent of musk with a hint of the shampoo from her salon filled her nose. His hands were hot against her waist and the back of her head. His gaze drove into her soul, compelling her to answer yes.

The thought of surrendering her body to him whenever he wanted both thrilled and frightened her. When she didn’t answer, he drew his hand down from her hair, over her breast to her belly and tugged up her tight skirt. His finger slid down beneath her thong and between her folds. She nearly swooned. How could she ever have agreed to a date with another man when Conor was all she ever wanted?

His finger pressed a little harder. She parted her legs to give him better access, but he slid his hand over to her thigh.

“Answer me,” he said.

She pushed into his cock with her hand but still didn’t answer. When he moaned, she leaned in to kiss him, but he tilted his head back.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” His eyes seemed to glow with lust.

He pushed her thong aside and shoved his finger up inside with his thumb firmly against her clit. His other arm held her up when her knees buckled. She cried out, riding his hand to the edge of ecstasy. All of her nerves craved satiation. Want transformed into need when he leaned down and bit her nipple beneath her dress.

“I’m yours,” she gasped out.

He withdrew his hand, set her feet on the floor and stepped back.

Confusion and frustration tore through her. She staggered and steadied herself on his desk. He still stared at her with hunger in his sapphire eyes, but it was like a preying tiger—total control and patience.

He said, “For three weeks, you can only wear that dress when I say. I don’t want other men seeing you in it. Take it off.”

She widened her eyes. He better have something else for her to wear if they were leaving the office. Oh crap. If he wanted her to walk naked in Times Square she’d have to do it. She pushed off the desk and stood up straight. She’d agreed to this. She wasn’t going to back down now and be whiny about it. She’d get her salon back in three weeks as total owner.

She bent down to take her heels off first.

“Leave the shoes on. Just the dress and your thong. Who gave you the jewelry?”

She placed her hand on the necklace, trying to remember which one it was. “I bought them myself.”

“After today, I only want to see you in jewelry I give you.”

She tugged the dress up to her chest and then pulled the whole thing over her head, dropping it to the floor. She pushed her thong down and let it drop to the floor, stepping out of it.

He gazed at her a long time. Her skin erupted in goosebumps as if he were touching her instead of merely looking at her. His pants bulged, and she yearned for him to be deep inside her. But clearly she’d have to wait.