Chereads / Chained to You (A Steamy Billionaire Romance) / Chapter 33 - Vol. 2: Captivated - Chapter 33

Chapter 33 - Vol. 2: Captivated - Chapter 33

Mia

James Maxwell is a bastard! That was what I was thinking right now as I tried to make myself sleep. Even though I was completely tired, even though it was way past one in the morning, I couldn’t sleep. I still couldn’t move an inch in his arms since he’d come into bed twenty minutes ago. I just couldn’t relax.

I sighed, giving in. Then he relaxed, easing his hold on me, and somehow I managed to shift back a little. I noted his breathing was even and knew he must be fully asleep. Hence, gaining some space between us would be no big deal. Besides, my sleeping so close to him wasn’t very nice. Every nerve in my body was excited, jumping around and sparking about.

It had all started with that wild fantasy of mine, of course, conjuring up images of the hot billionaire naked and under the shower, beads of water glistening on his smooth skin.

I sighed and slowly opened my eyes to confirm my suspicion that he was indeed asleep. I noted his resting face, which was breathtakingly handsome. As I gazed at his features in the dimness of the room, I couldn’t help but wonder why certain people were just born lucky. When they arrived on this earth, they got the whole package. The good looks. The money. And of course, the mind for business to make even more money, which also made them even more powerful, influential, and attractive to the opposite sex. Andy and I weren’t those people, and that was okay. It couldn’t be helped. We just needed to work harder and strive to better ourselves.

As my mind shifted to what James’ childhood was like compared to mine, my hands voluntarily rested against his naked torso. He was hard and warm and smooth. Then, slowly, my fingers lightly and gently caressed his skin. Oddly enough, as I stroked him, I felt my own body glowing with delight.

He was such a great specimen. This billionaire with too much money to throw around.

My hands moved around to his back and continued caressing him. I smiled as I gazed up at him, pleased that he was asleep and didn’t know or see me doing these embarrassing things to him—this molestation—stroking him and caressing him.

I tilted my head back just a little and kissed him on his strong chin. I gazed at him longer as my hands continued to touch him. Then I felt bolder. He was asleep, after all, and wasn’t going to know I was doing these things to him. Thus, I lowered my eyes and gazed at his nipple. He was always kissing and licking and sucking at my nipples, wasn’t he? I felt awesomely wonderful when he did that to me, and I wondered what it felt like to be the one who did those things.

I flicked my eyes back to his face for a brief second, just to confirm he was still deeply in his slumber, that he wasn’t about to wake up and find me experimenting with his body, using my hands and lips and tongue.

Noting he was still soundly deep within his slumber, I moved down a little and leaned my head forward. I gazed at his nipple for a bit, marveling at the roundness and the angle it stuck out. I didn’t know a male nipple was a beauty of a thing and felt a little awed by that. I certainly had never looked at my own nipples, let alone myself, with such concentration.

Then because I couldn’t control myself any longer, I dipped my head in and kissed the bud. It didn’t feel like much, just a bit of warm skin against my lips. Then I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Lightly I licked it. Once. Twice. Thrice.

The nipple was now glistening wet with my saliva. I moved to the other one and kissed it as well. Then I licked it too. Once. Twice. Thrice.

I moved back to the first one and popped it between my lips into my mouth. I started sucking it and rolling it with my tongue and then licking it and then sucking it again. When I moved back, the nipple was rosy and hard and wet.

I turned my attention to the other one and repeated the process attentively. As I was doing that, I felt the heat growing within me. I felt my core burning with need.

Shit! I was turned on. I was sexually molesting James in his sleep, and I was turned on.

Oh Mother of Jesus! I couldn’t help myself. I felt my whole body squirming against James as he lay there, motionless, deep in his sleep.

I groaned as I ravished his nipple. “Mmm…”

Oh God! I wanted to come so badly. But James was asleep. I didn’t want to wake him. I certainly didn’t want him to see me like this, doing this to him.

I clung to him as I started kissing him everywhere on his chest, my lips hot and wet and eager.

Suddenly, he moved.

Oh God! Have I woken him?

I freaked out a little and froze for a brief second, waiting to see if he really was awake. But of course, the thought that my action woke him didn’t dampen my urgent need or my sexual assault on his body. If anything, his new position only made my need grow even hotter.

One of his muscular thighs had snuggled deep against me and was now resting comfortably between my legs, brushing against my panties. One of his hands rested on my chest, close to my breast.

I couldn’t help myself. I’d reached the point of no return. I squeezed my thighs against his and started rubbing myself against him. Oh God! The intimate contact felt so good.

I moved his hand lightly into the collar of my sleep shirt—his work shirt—and rested his palm against my bare breast. I groaned and felt the burning heat growing forever more within me.

As I continued to rub myself against him, I paid attention to his nipples once again—kissing, licking, rolling, and sucking the buds with devotion. The sexual need built inside me, spreading all over my body as I rubbed myself harder and faster against his thigh.

I groaned. “Ngh…” As I sucked and kissed and slicked his nipples, my core was building, growing tighter and tighter, and then I came—short and sharp—as I hugged James tight against me. My body tensed as the muscles inside me contracted and twisted and burned in ecstasy.

I was breathless once I was done and lay there against James like a dead fish. It was only a little later, when my breathing was almost back to normal, when I realized what had just happened.

Oh my God! What had I just done? Molesting James in his sleep and using his body to satisfy my own sexual needs.

I glanced up at the man, expecting him to open his eyes and point his finger at me, insulting me with harsh words that I was a selfish little bitch.

He didn’t though. His sleeping face was still as serene and as handsome as ever. I felt relief sweep over me for reasons I couldn’t explain. Then, as if to say thank you, which was weird, I moved up a little and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“You’ve been a very good bed partner tonight, my good sir,” I whispered, smiling. Then I got back to finding myself a comfortable position in his arms. Once I did, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When next I woke up, it was to the sun shining brilliantly through the window. I moved around the bed, noting it was very spacious and rather a little cold. Then I turned around, knowing in my gut James was gone.

I wasn’t wrong at all. I stared longingly at the empty space next to me, wondering where James had gone off to. I sat, brought my knees up to my chin, and hugged myself as I continued to gaze at the empty side. My mind drifted off to last night, and a smile crept across my lips. Then just as quickly, I scowled at myself.

You stupid girl, Mia. The small voice at the back of my head scolded me. That molestation needs to stop immediately.

I nodded in agreement with my little voice, determined that last night was indeed going to be my very first and last time that I sexually assaulted James Maxwell during his sleep.

Then I moved, getting myself out of bed. Just as my feet landed on the soft carpet, I saw the note and a key card on top of the bedside table on my side of the bed. I picked up the piece of paper and read.

Will be back before lunch. Order some breakfast. Go to the spa. Relax. Enjoy. See you soon.

—James

My insides glowed and melted at his words. I smiled adoringly at the beautiful handwriting. Just as quickly, however, I straightened my face, telling myself not to get so involved. Those words he’d written meant nothing other than an instruction, a command on how I should spend my morning before he returned for me.

I rested the note back on top of the bedside table and headed to the bathroom. After cleaning myself and putting on a dress James had bought for me yesterday, I headed into the living area, picked up the phone, and ordered some brunch since it was after ten a.m.

I mucked around a bit while I waited for my room service, tidying the bed and bathroom, and watching TV. When there was a knock at the door, I rushed over and opened it with a big smile.

The maid rolled the trolley into the room as I stood back and waited. Then she put a big silver platter on top of the coffee table and asked me if I needed anything else.

“No, thanks,” I said, my eyes on the covered silver platter.

The maid smiled and then left.

Once I was alone, I went straight to the tray and took the lid off. An assortment of delicious food greeted me. There were eggs benedict with crispy bacon as well as a fresh fruit salad of sliced mango, papaw, apple, grapes, and pineapple. I eagerly sat down and dug in. Once I was finished about twenty minutes later, I decided to go out for a stroll. Grabbing my wallet and cell phone and, of course, the key card James had left for me, I headed out, my spirits high.