At His Word:
The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 6
By Delilah Fawkes
The elevator doors slid shut, and I gasped for air
as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. The car shuddered as it started moving, and
for a moment, I felt like the floor dropped out from underneath me, that
everything was slipping away. And maybe it was.
I took a deep breath and wiped my face as the
elevator slowed to a stop. Someone from the next floor down was getting on, and
I didn’t want a stranger to see me crying. I worked here, after all. It would
be no good for the whole company to know that Mr. Drake’s new assistant was
weeping in the elevator.
The doors slid open, and I shuffled back to make
room, my eyes downcast. The doors slid shut, but instead of pushing the button
for the floor he wanted, the man who entered slammed his hand onto the red
“stop” button.
“Don’t run from me like that again,” Mr. Drake
said.
My eyes snapped upward, meeting his. His hair was
disheveled, his breathing catching up like he’d run down a flight of stairs.
And I suppose he had.
“You came after me.”
I was in shock, standing there, staring at my
boss, my eyes still full of tears threatening to spill over once again. He took
two steps and pinned me against the mirrored wall of the elevator, his hands on
either side of me, effectively trapping me.
“You didn’t let me explain.”
I looked down at my shoes, anything to escape that
intense, green gaze. “What’s there to explain? She’s your fiancé, isn’t she? I
understand perfectly.”
I’m
just a fling on the side. You went slumming for a while, but when push comes to
shove, you’ll marry someone like you. Someone from your world.
Someone
you deserve.
He tilted my chin up with a gentle hand. “Look at
me.”
“I don’t want to,” I whispered. Tears threatened
to fall at any moment, and I didn’t want him to see me like this. Weak. Because
of him.
“Look at me, Isabeau.” His voice was harsh now,
brooking no further argument.
My eyes flicked upward, captured by his gaze. To
my surprise, he didn’t look angry at all, but instead his eyes pleaded with me.
“She’s just a friend of the family. My mother has
been trying to set me up with her since prep school, but I never agreed to it.
I’m with you ,
Isa. Not her. Never her.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall into his
arms right then and there, but it all seemed too easy. Too good to be true.
“Then why are you going with her?”
He stared down at me, his brow furrowing. “It’s a
dinner party my family is throwing. I have to go, or it won’t look right.
Business associates will be there.”
He leaned in and kissed me slowly, his lips hot on
mine. My head buzzed, my thoughts a hopeless jumble. His mouth found my neck,
his hand winding in my hair and pulling it tight. My breath hitched, my body
responding to his touch. His tongue flicked over my collar bone, and I moaned
softly.
“Come with me,” he said, his breath tickling my
ear. “Let me introduce you to my family, Isa.”
I sighed against him, my anxiety melting as his
body pressed against mine. I squirmed against him, my needy clit finding his
rock hard thigh.
“You want me to go?”
His low laugh sent shivers down my spine. His
thigh rubbed against me, making me gasp.
“You’re mine. I can show you off as I please,
little slave.”
He grabbed my ass, lifting my leg over his,
grinding me harder. I was on fire for him, and still wet from our play in the
office, before all of this doubt and fear. Mr. Drake nibbled at my neck as he
rubbed me against him, my pussy throbbing with arousal even through the layers
of clothing separating us.
“Say you’ll join me. Be my date tonight.”
He kissed me, and I opened beneath him, sighing as
his tongue danced over mine. Jolts of pleasure raced through me as I rode him,
my hips undulating as he moved against me. I gasped as he bit my lip.
“I will,” I breathed.
“Good,” he