His Desire (5 page)

The sad way she stroked the tiny memory reminded me of the fact that while my wife was trying to enjoy our vacation, hoping that her enthusiasm for a clean start would inspire me to change, I was preoccupied with Cole. Instead of savoring every moment, with both hands, feeling the love and hope she exuded, I chose hate. I chose to leave her alone in a bar so I could unleash my monster on my brother.

“I can't give that day back to you.” I stood behind her, breathing in the scent of her hair. The spicy, fruity notes hung on the air that day too. There was something else here, a quiet melancholy that stabbed me in the chest. I could have dwelled on it, but I wouldn't be a hypocrite. I'd learned something through this experience. Ignoring the pain didn't make it go away. Turning it into a weapon, letting anger in didn't make it go away. Looking it dead on, letting it in, then letting it go was the only way to keep it from driving you insane.

“I
can
promise that we'll have other beautiful, memorable days where-”

“My husband won't peck me on the cheek then head out to kill someone?” She turned to me, roping her arms around my neck as a smile dominated her lips.

A joke.

My Leila was back.

“I can't make any promises,” I winked, pushing her ebony curls over her shoulders, lost in the bliss that passed between us. I tipped her chin with my finger and her lips pursed, anticipating my next move. My smirk was as immediate as the spark of mischief that ignited in her eyes. “A little presumptuous, Mrs. Whitmore.”

She arched toward me, her body, her lips telling me that even though I held the reins when the lights went out, she knew how to tip the scales. Fully packed, fully dressed, itinerary set—and I could care less. The only thing on my mind was how quickly I could tear her clothes off. The sounds she’d make as I gripped her tight, imprinting my touch on her skin.

I brushed my lips against hers, so close that I could taste her yearning.

The pilot could wait.

Her eyes brightened as she searched mine and realized what was to come. She was dangerously close and I knew that look. Knew my wife. She reached for the part of me that was just as wild, stroking me until lust blurred all else.

“The rules,” I murmured but I didn't stop her. There was no threat of discipline behind my words.

She nibbled on her bottom lip coyly. “What rules?”

She jerked my belt apart. My fly was undone before I had time to react, my hot bulge piercing through the fabric. I craved the place deep inside her. I craved the untamable part of Leila that flickered behind every twitch, every locked jaw; the quiet things she murmured before she slipped back into the role as my submissive. Oh, I could bring her to her knees; turn her milky skin crimson with my hand. Or the belt she ripped free. But seeing her like this: insatiable, curls spilling into her eyes, lips parted and begging to moan this was just as much a part of her. Just as beautiful. Just as desirable. I craved this other side of her.

A woman who not only knew what she wanted, but knew what I needed.

I unzipped her jacket and it dropped to the ground, revealing a simple white tank and the swollen, unbound curve of her breasts.

“No bra?” I mused with a smile.

“No panties either,” she winked.

The rumble of need rose in my throat as I tore off my pants and she pulled off her leggings, revealing her delicious sex. My finger stroked her opening, drinking in her wetness. Her eyes rolled back in her head before she reached for her shirt.

She gripped the hem, her breathing elevated until she hit her navel and stopped. Her cheeks blushed the same pink that surrounded her nipples.

“Jacob...” My name, her show of respect to me. To my needs.

“Right now, the only thing I need is to make you come.” I gently pulled her shirt up, desire threatening to overwhelm me. The Dom in me wanted her face down on the mattress, legs spread, hands tied behind her back. I channeled that need and my next words came out thick, trailing up and down her bare skin. “Tell me what you want. Show me,” I remedied when she dropped her gaze like she was trying to find the words.

She reached for my hand, interlacing our fingers slowly, like she was memorizing every finger, every last moment. She brought my knuckles to her lips, then pulled my hand toward her sex.

I cupped it, the moan reverberating inside me as she swayed, like she was so full of pleasure that it burst from her pores.

“I want you to take me on the floor.”

She dropped to her knees, then laid back against the hardwood floor, legs spread. She spared no more words. There was only moans. Every fevered gasp, every thrust inside of her warmth pushed me closer to the place where we were completely lost in each other. Her flesh was slick with her desire, her legs wrapped tight around me as she pulled me deeper. Demanded more. It was an ecstasy I'd never get enough. A pleasure that gripped more than just my throbbing need. I felt the maddening duality; wanting more, loving the way she felt from the inside, the way her nails carved up my back, and being out of control. Insane with lust.

Our bodies collided the building pressure inside me reaching  a pitch that made me throw my head back...and realizing we weren’t alone. I twisted my neck and made eye contact with Cole.

Cole?

I turned back to my wife, my brain refusing to accept that my brother was standing in my doorway, watching our most intimate moments. I closed my eyes and snapped them back open, sure my mind was playing tricks on me.

“I, uh...”

There was no mistaking that voice.

Cole's voice.

My body went rigid, my fingers digging into Leila's hips. Her face scrunched in passion. In pleasure—until her eyes fluttered open when I stopped thrusting. She’d missed Cole's awkward stammering, but she saw my eyes. My building rage.

“What...oh my
God
!” She scrambled to the side, pulling her leather jacket against her naked body.

Whatever lust drenched stupor I was in disintegrated as I snapped to my feet and glared at him with murder in my eyes. There was no guilt as I looked at his battered face, the bruises dark and brutal. White gauze peeked out behind his collar and his hand instinctively went to his neck as he backed up toward the door, like he was guarding himself from further harm.

“No one answered the door, then I heard...it was propped open so I, um-”

“Thought you'd let yourself in?” I seethed. While my brother seeing the two of us in the throes of passion was certainly an unfortunate and shudder inducing turn of events, I was far more infuriated than embarrassed. “Who do you think you are?”

He opened his mouth—then his face crumbled. The sobs racked his frame, his whole body shaking with the heaviness of his sorrow. My anger dimmed because I could hear the fear in it, the helplessness. I'd looked into my brother's eyes; his soul. I knew that he was just as good at hiding his pain as I was. Tears and weakness weren't an option for him. While I pounded his skull with my fists, he hadn't spared a single one. Even when Leila told the truth, that she owed him her life, his tears were nearly silent. This was oblivion, a man who was at the end of his rope.

“What the hell is going on, Cole?” The bite was gone from my words, the flare of anger slowly morphing into worry. I refused to allow it to become concern. I just wanted to figure this out so I could go back to hating him.

“It's Brittany.”

Cole tore his hands from his face, the emotion running so deep that I couldn't deny that my heart balled in my chest. We shared DNA...and he saved my wife. I couldn’t shut off my cumbersome conscience if I tried.

“She's in big trouble. Life or death kind of trouble.” He put his hand to his chest like he was making a solemn vow. “I know I have no right to ask, but I have no other choice. I will do anything you want. Anything. Just—please help me save my little sister.”

~

T
hank you for taking the time to read His Desire (The Billionaire Dom Diaries, Part Two). Please consider leaving a review.
xoxo Ava

~

T
he Billionaire Dom Diaries Series

His Need (The Billionaire Dom Diaries, Part One): March 13

His Desire (The Billionaire Dom Diaries, Part Two): March 27

His Passion (The Billionaire Dom Diaries, Part Three): April 10

His Love (The Billionaire Dom Diaries, Part Four): April 24

A
va Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.

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