Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Nine

Silence descends over us, the tension in the room is thick, each passing second leaves me feeling dumber for voicing out such an awkward request. What do I know about sex, let alone being a submissive? My eyes raise to meet Brandon’s, my lips part open to tell him to forget anything I said but he cuts me off with a soft glare and a sigh.

“Sex in my world is different,” he finally says. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting some of the brown locks fall over his forehead. I palm his cheek, the pad of my thumb caresses his prominent cheekbone.

“You can teach me; you can show me how.”

Brandon’s hand comes to the small of my back, my legs tangle in the sheet when I try to change position to straddle him. He catches on to my movement, lifts me so my legs are resting on both sides of him.

“You don’t get it,” he says. “In my world, there is no lovemaking, just plain fucks with no strings attached. I cannot love you, Elna.”

Grinding my waist against his groin, I cup his face and say, “Then fuck me.” I rest my forehead against his, my voice reduces to a whisper, “If you will let me, then I can teach you to love me.” He starts to shake his head and I try to keep it in place. “Brandon, please, let me love you. I want to love my husband.”

His eyes close, his lips set into a grim line, I hug him and tuck my head into the crook of his neck. Some of my hair falls over my face, his hands palm my back and I squeeze him to comfort myself. His last statement scares the hell out of me. I know he is a man of his words but it doesn’t stop me from hoping, wishing it’s one of those things we say and we don’t follow through with it.

I want him to love me the same way I intend to, with all my heart, body and soul.

“Elna,” Brandon calls but I refuse to answer, I hug him tighter instead. I don’t want to see his face yet. “Elna, you are being a disobedient sub, I will have to punish you.”

My head falls back and my teeth sink into my lips. “You want me to be your sub?” I ask without meeting his eyes, one of my hands rest on his shoulder, the other gets lost in his hair. It’s soft, softer than I expect it to be.

“It depends, Elna,” he murmurs and hooks his index finger under my jaw. “It depends.”

The overhead light hits his amber eyes, turning it a near translucent, golden colour. His pupils are dilated, his long eyelashes create a shadow on his cheek and he swipes his tongue over his lips. Withdrawing my fingers from his hair, I trail a line across his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, his lips, then his neck, making circles around his Adam’s apple which bobs up and down.

I run my finger over his lips and smile. My voice is a whisper when I ask, “On what?”

Brandon cups my buttocks, the contact of his warm hands on my bare skin reminding me of his actions from a few minutes ago. It seems like hours have passed since that happened. I don’t feel pain anymore. Since I know he is into BDSM, a part of me wants more of the kinky stuff, the spanking and all that. I want to see him in his full dominant mode.

“If you still want the post,” he mutters.

A sigh escapes me, my head angles to one side to get a better view of his handsome face, I don’t understand him at all. When I think I am beginning to grasp the kind of man he is, he does something to make me think otherwise. What goes on his mind?

First, he tries to scare me off into saying no, now, he’s offering me the same position. I sigh again. To think that people call women the confused gender when Brandon is the exact definition of confusing. Of course, I want the post. I want anything that will bring us closer. I want to know him. I want him to fall in love with me. But I don’t want to compete with any other female for his attention, he belongs to me, as I do to him.