Read Chained to You, Vol. 3-4 Page 6


  I was breathless as I whispered, "Fuck.... Fuck me harder, James."

  My whole body shuddered in a frenzy of euphoria as I softly voiced those words.

  James chuckled. "That's my girl," he said and then increased his pace even more.

  "Ahh..." I couldn't hold it anymore. I knew I was going to come. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! I really was going to come.

  "James..." I managed to breathe out. "I'm going to--"

  He cut me short by slamming his lips against mine and kissed me hard. His tongue plunged between my lips into my mouth. At the same time, he lifted my waist to meet his as he screwed himself deeper into me.

  Oh God! I could feel the whole length and largeness of his cock inside me, buried deep within me, hot and hard, branding me on the inside, claiming that I was his and his alone. Then I came as he devoured me deep; his tongue in my mouth and his cock in my pussy.

  "Mmm..." I groaned out both in pure pleasure and agony into his mouth. "Mmm... Ahh..." I shuddered in delirium as I came, long and hard, the ecstasy bursting within me like an explosion of fireworks.

  I clung to him for dear life as I came in pleasure and pain, in emptiness and fullness. I was begging... begging... for more. I wanted more of James Maxwell. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! I wanted more of James Maxwell.

  "James!" I sobbed into his mouth, my whole body shaking and shuddering, my mind deep in darkness and yet bursting with brightness, a mixture of all color of the rainbow. I felt tears rolled down my cheeks as I tightened my legs around his waist, thrusting myself up against him.

  When finally my body eased and relaxed, I was heaving and breathless, my world still spinning around me. My body was buzzing with this tantalizing sensation as I felt myself floating on air.

  I gazed unseeing at James above me, my heart aching and crying for more. Yet it was filled to the rim as well, full with pleasure and warm and something else... Love?

  I noted he, too, was breathing quite heavy, his eyes bright.

  "Fuck, Mia," he said, chuckling. "That was great."

  "Huh?" I managed to voice. I was pleased but confused at the same time. Pleased that he found our sex wonderful and confused because he wouldn't let me touch him during our intercourse.

  He moved down a little and then licked my cheek. The wetness and warmness of his tongue made me quiver in deliciousness.

  "Sorry I made you cry," he apologized tenderly. "But it won't be the last time."

  I stared up at him and then it hit me. He liked it when he made me cry whilst he make love to me. What? No wait! Wasn't that what he had said earlier this morning before he had went off in search of my brother with Matt? But of course, I had forgotten about that. So worried I had been for my brother.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. So it wasn't going to be the last he'd make me cry during our tempestuous sex sessions then? Internally, I smiled at the thought he'd make me wanted him that much again. The agony and craving for him as a whole, or for any man for that matter, was something I had never experience before until moments ago when James himself had shown me. The feelings was overwhelmingly powerful, like a tornado of sort that destroys everything in its path. And yes, I've started to crave for his heart as well.

  No! I must not go that far. I must not drown myself in James Maxwell's world. I must not crave for this billionaire's heart, because I knew he didn't have any to give away. Not specially a girl like me. I was merely his mistress, after all, and nothing more to him. What he loved was my body. He loved having sex with me. There was nothing more to our master and mistress relationship than that.

  The thought sadden me, and I wriggled my wrists free from his grasp.

  He easily let me go, and I rolled over and sat up. I quickly got off the bed and retrieved my towel from the floor. Then I wrapped it around myself and turned to look at him.

  "Aren't you going to shower?" I asked.

  His handsome face was a blank mask as he stared at me, as if scrutinizing what I was thinking. I hoped he wasn't too perceptive and figured out that I've lost my heart to him. God, I hope not because I'd be so mortified if that happened. Then there was also the fact that he might just terminate our contract. No, I couldn't allow that to happen because there was no way I could find two million to repay him. More importantly, however, I didn't want to part ways with him. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with James Maxwell, and the thought that we won't be together anymore made me felt sick to the stomach.

  A moment later, he nodded, got up from his spot, and headed into the bathroom.

  Chapter 12

  Mia

  When next I woke up, it was to the bright glare of the morning sun. I groaned in annoyance and fluttered my eyes open. A manly chuckle came my way which drew my attention. I blinked a few times to get used to the brightness, and once I did, I saw James standing on the side of my bed watching me. He had a mug of coffee in one hand.

  "Morning, sunshine," he greeted.

  How long had he been standing there watching me? I wondered contritely. And why would he do that? I was sure I was not that interesting to watch while I was asleep. Or maybe it was merely me thinking he had been there watching me when in fact he had just turn up to wake me--this lazy, sleepy head. Fact was, however, I was never like this before I had met James. I had always been an early riser, out of bed even before six thirty in the morning and getting ready for work. But since I had started to share a bed with James, I had started to sleep more deeply and soundly, as if his mere presence in bed beside made me feel comforted and safe. Not to mention the fact that I hadn't woke up like I usually did around two or three in the morning in a kind of a panic attack last night.

  Or perhaps it was the fact that I was completely and utterly exhausted from everything that had happened since yesterday? My brother went missing, James and Matt went off to find him, and then of course, James's wild love making to me last night? That was probably it, I decided as the man I was thinking about suddenly leaned toward me.

  He gave me a kiss on my forehead, which both surprised and delighted me. I felt like the world had just bloomed with flowers and bursting with various bright color as he moved his lips down to my nose and kiss me there, too. Then lower to my lips, and there, he gently and softly kissed me, his tongue lightly brushing against my lips. I eagerly parted my mouth open for him, but he paused and pulled back.

  I groaned in disappointment at the rejection. I didn't know I was doing it out loud until I heard him chuckling.

  "Tonight," he said, his warm breath erotically fanning my face. "I'll take you out to dinner. Wear a pretty dress." He kissed me on my lips again. When he moved back, he said, a dark smile on his face, "And you're my dessert after. I expect to see that lingerie on you tonight. It's an order."

  His tone demanded no argument or disobedient from me. My body response to his dark command by shivering in anticipation and trepidation. I was mesmerized and breathless at his complete control over me, at the way he seductive yet coldly commanded me to do as he instructed, as he pleased.

  I licked my lips as I nodded my head.

  James smiled, pleased with my respond. He caressed my cheek with the back of his finger and then brushed his lips lightly across mine. I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes as I knew tonight was going to be another night he'd really make me lose my mind once again.

  Then of course I expected him to let go of me and leave for his work, but he didn't. He slammed his lips against mine again and forcefully plunged his tongue into my mouth. Then he wildly and passionately kissed me, his tongue cogently stroking mine, demanding me to submit to him.

  I groaned in my throat as I clutched the bedsheet against my naked chest, as my body shook in ardor. When he did finally let go of me, I was shaking and breathless.

  "I'll be back to pick you up at seven this evening," he said, a satisfied smile on his lips. I noted his beautiful Prussian blue eyes were twinkling as he took a few steps back.

  I watched him, dazed and awed as he walked out the door.
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  "See you soon," he said over his shoulder. "Patrick is waiting downstairs to take you to your brother. Oh, and your new cell phone is on the bedside table. Keep it with you at all time. Expect to get messages from me."

  I flicked my eyes to the bedside table, and sure enough, there it was, a brand new cell phone. Had James bought it specifically for me? Of course I had my own as well, but it was old and the only numbers I had on it was Andy's previous number, which was no longer in used since Andy's phone had been destroyed a few months back. Then there was the restaurant number as well. It was so that I could phone in if I was too sick to work.

  So James expected me to take this new cell phone of mine with me wherever I go, eh? And to expect getting messages from him. Suddenly, I shuddered in delight. To get messages from James. Sexy, naughty messages? Or was the cell phone simply a way for him to get in contact with me to tell me when he'd turn up to see me? Either way, it was nice of him to get me one. And a very fancy one at that.

  A few moments later, I heard the sound of the door shutting, and I knew James was gone. He was going to be busy with work again for sure. They were always busy, weren't they, these billionaires who had multiple businesses that was worth in the billions of dollars? Then I wondered if he and Matt was still dealing with the Mexican, cleaning up the mess from the night before. I didn't know and, honest to God, I didn't actually wanted to find out that much. I just knew that as long as Andy was safe, I was relief.

  I got out of bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready. Some twenty minutes later, I was done. I had a little bit of make up on--just the foundation, a little blusher, lipstick, and a hint of dark mascara. My long hair was loosely French braided and rested to one side of my shoulder.

  Today, I wore a floral sun dress of short sleeves and round neckline. The hem of the skirt reached down to just above my knees, which showed off my slender legs. Accompanying that pretty dress I wore flat ballet shoes. Staring at myself, I thought I looked rather fetching and smiled at my own accomplishment.

  I headed out the door and then ordered room service. As I waited for breakfast to arrive, I headed into the walk-in-wardrobe in search of a dress I should wear to dinner with James tonight.

  I crouched down to my knees, wondering if this was a kind of dinner date between us. Then I thought again that that was indeed stupid. We were not in a real girlfriend-boyfriend type relationship. Then again, I thought, neither was our relationship like that of a master and mistress. Didn't they simply do sex behind closed door and that was about it? Did they go out and have dinner dates in the open as well? I didn't know. Did the master usually buy expensive clothing for his mistress? I didn't know that one either.

  I licked my lip as I stared at a lovely blue cocktail dress James had bought for me from Fleur. It was short and elegant with the material made out of satin and lace. The sleeves was short and the neckline was round. It was beautiful and covered a lot of skin, which I wanted. I'd look smart and elegant in this, I thought in glee.

  I nodded, decided that it'd be the one I'd wear for tonight's dinner. Then my eyes was drawn to the lingerie James had laid out and instructed for me to wear yesterday.

  A lump formed in my throat. To wear something that sexy... that erotic... It wasn't me, but...

  Suddenly, my mind when to our tempestuous, powerful sex session last night, and my body squirmed in anticipation.

  Would me wearing something like that increases his craving for me? Would it made him want me even more?

  The thought made my stomach flutter deliciously. To be wanted by James, not only in the sex department but in the heart department as well, would be awesomely wonderful.

  My thoughts turned to what had happened this morning. The way he had looked at me. The way he had kissed me. The way he had caressed me, so tenderly and so gently... To be kissed, to get morning greeting that way... Was that the way a relationship between a master and his mistress worked, too? I didn't know, but I desperately wanted to find out. Did all masters treat their mistresses like the way James treated me?

  A part of me wanted to tell myself no, that wasn't the general way a master treated his mistress, that there was only sex involved and nothing else. I wanted James to be the only type of master who treated his mistress, me, this way, like he was in love with me, like I was precious to him. I wanted to be precious to him.

  But of course, that was stupid of me. I knew that, yet deep down inside I was still hoping something wonderful will come out of our unconventional relationship.

  A couple of loud knocks came at the door, and I jumped. I had forgot about my breakfast. I quickly placed both the dress and the lingerie back in place and headed out the walk-in-closet into the bedroom and then to the living area.

  After I had had my delicious breakfast, I took my new satchel, not forgetting about my new cell phone and of course my wallet, and then headed out the door.

  Down in the main foyer, the kick-ass looking bodyguard I had met with yesterday, the one who had drove me back from the hospital to the hotel, rushed over to me the moment I stepped out of the elevator. I assumed he must be Patrick, the man who was to be my chauffeur again for today.

  "Good morning, Miss Donovan," he greet cheerfully. "Where would you like to go today?"

  I felt fluster all of a sudden. I wasn't used to this type of stuff where I was treated like a rich, pampered princess. I was Mia Donovan, an orphan girl with a dark past who no one cared about. The girl who had to strive hard to claim her spot in life.

  I smiled shyly and said, "The hospital."

  "Of course," he said, nodding his head. "This way, Miss Donovan."

  I followed him out the grand entrance of the hotel. A moment later, I found myself staring at a silver, flash car that I had no idea what the brand was. Yesterday's car was a simple black one. But today? Today was different. This one looked mightily expensive, and it was used to transport me to the hospital?

  I was used to bus. Not this fancy type of car that would have costed the earth to obtain.

  Patrick opened the door of the backseat for me, and I entered. I was used to sitting in the front seat beside James who drove the car. I was used to watching his large, strong hand gripping comfortably and commandingly on the steering wheel. I liked watching the way James's hands moving and controlling the steering wheel. There was something very fascinating about that.

  Of course, I was definitely not used to sitting at the back seat alone. I put on the seatbelt as Patrick started driving out.

  "It's a lovely morning, isn't it, Miss Donovan?" Patrick started the conversation.

  I nodded in agreement. "Yes." It was indeed a lovely morning when you woke to be greeted by a hot billionaire kissing you and promising you to a wonderful dinner and then later a sort of wild sex session that'd surely make the earth shake under you.

  I sighed, a secret smile playing about my lips. Then I dug my hand into my new bag and found the cell phone James had given me. I needed to familiarize myself with this one and so I spent the next fifteen minutes browsing through the apps. I noted that James had already had his own phone number in the contact list. He was simply James there and nothing else. Nothing fancy like dark billionaire your master or anything like that. There was Andy's and Matt's numbers as well. How considerate of him, I thought. Then again, why would I need Matt's phone number? Oh yes, in case Andy--

  I stopped right there. I didn't want to think about what might happen to Andy. It was just too frightening at the thought. I was grateful, however, that James had put Matt's number on my contact list in case I needed his help in the future.

  When we arrived at the hospital later, Patrick and I headed straight up to Andy's room. There, Patrick took up his position beside the other kick-ass bodyguard.

  I greeted the other one, whom I had yet to find out his name, and then headed straight in to see Andy.

  My brother was gazing out the window when I came in. I took the seat beside his bed, moving the chair closer so I could be right ne
xt to him.

  He definitely looked better today, and the bruises on his face had changed color, too. It was lighter, I think. He was healing, and I was glad.

  "Good morning, Andy," I said, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

  Andy managed to give me a grin and went on to his complaint. "The food here is horrible, Mia" he said. "I wish you'd cook for me. I've missed your food. It's been ages since I tasted your fry-rice and your egg omelet."

  I smiled. Andy was the only one who had ever adored my cooking. My fry-rice and egg omelet, Asian style, were his favorites. Of course these two dishes were basic and the ingredients were cheap, which we could comfortably afford.

  "I'll cook for you tomorrow," I said. Then I wondered if I was allowed to use that fancy kitchenette back at the hotel. I'd have to ask James tonight.

  "Unfortunately, I can't handle hard food at the moment," he said. "Something soft?"

  I nodded. "Of course," I said. "I'll think of something."

  Chapter 13

  Mia

  Andy slept for the most part of the day whilst I read magazines as I sat there beside him. When he woke, we'd chat about random topic that had nothing to do with our current situation, which we both tried our utter most to avoid. Who'd want to talk about billionaire elites, underground business world, Mexican cartel, kidnapping, torturing, and that sort in the hospital with a very injured patient who had just been through those afore mentioned shit? Sometime, it was easier to live to delude yourself into believing that everything was all right. Deep within my mind, however, I wondered if things that had happened to Andy would likely to happen again, and I knew the answer was yes, one hundred percent.

  The thought didn't sit well with me. I wanted to protect Andy. I wanted his and my life to go back to the way they had been six months ago before Andy had left Mystic Spring, when I had a job as a kitchen hand and Andy as a cleaner even though we only made just enough to get by. But at least then we didn't have to worry about whether Andy would get kidnapped by the Mexican or the Albanian.