Page 35 of Christmas with Billionaire's Runaway Bride

"I am going nowhere. Is your little boyfriend waiting for you? You better tell him that you will be home late." Michael says as he captures my lips and sneaks his tongue into my mouth. It is clear what he wants and I am not going to stop. It is terrifying how despite having a great time with James I still craved Michael's touch.

"Does he touch you like this?" Michael asks as he grabs my ass and push it towards him. I stay quiet and continue kissing him but that only fuels his anger.

"I saw the way you reacted to his hands on your body and I can't get it off my head. I want to erase all those things he did to you. I want to have you in ways he cannot." He continues and bite my nipple while I am still fully dressed.

"Claire... Does this feel good?" He asks as he bites the other nipple and I nod vehemently.

"How could you moan for him that loud and stay quiet for me?" He says and stops what he is doing. I immediately feel frustrated and try to compose myself to no avail.

"Are you forgetting that we are in an office?" I ask as I calm my erratic heart. I want him too and decide to take that initiative to resume our sessions. I step closer to him and he moves backwards, seemingly not content with my explanation. In that moment, I get frustrated and angry and straighten my clothes, preparing to leave. As soon as my hand reach the door knob, I feel his warm hands stopping me and he pulls me towards him. He rips off my clothes one by one, his eyes dangerously looking at mine and his expression unreadable.

He kisses me hard and as soon as we pull apart, he says, "Are you forgetting that this room is soundproofed?"

Michael gets out of his clothing and places me on the sex swing that is behind us.

"I notice that you are into kinky stuff. How I wish I should have known that earlier." He says and a smile plays across my face. It seems like our love making session with James really took a toll on Michael.

He then places me on the swing, blindfolds me and caress me.

"Now that you don't want to scream for me, I will gag you." He says and does it.

The next thing I know, there is a sound of a whip and a stinging sensation on my butt. I moan in surprise and he continues. He then takes an ice cube and places it on my nipples then whips them. This heightens my sensations and the excitement arouses me even more. He then switches things up and cover my inner thighs and boobs with whipped cream. He licks me all over and by the time he is done, I am somehow begging him to have me.

"Yeah...mmmh...just like that baby. I want you under my mercy so that you won't forget me even when you are with James." He says and kisses me.

Michael, who is fully erect then uses his manhood to torture me even more. He rubs his well circumcised tip onto my clit and later enters it into my pussy. It is just the tip and I am frustrated since all I want is for him to fully invade my walls. He senses my impatience and decide to grant me my wish. I can't explain what I am feeling but I know that I am in this journey for a ride.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Blurred Lines 2

James Point of View

As I sit in my car, the glow of the city lights casting an ethereal ambiance, I can't shake off the feeling of guilt that creeps in. Listening to Claire's conversations without her knowledge is a breach of trust, a shadow that lingers over our fragile connection. My need for control and reassurance has overridden the boundaries of a healthy relationship.

As the minutes tick by, my thoughts swirl in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I question the choices I've made and whether my actions are leading me down a path I'll ultimately regret. The night unfolds, and I find myself contemplating the consequences of my decisions. Claire, unaware of the intrusion into her privacy, continues with her evening, oblivious to the silent spectator that I've become in her life.

The weight of my actions hangs heavy on my conscience, and I'm left wondering if the pursuit of revenge has pushed me to a point where I've become the very thing I despise—an architect of pain and deceit. My phone call serves as both a strategic move and a self-inflicted wound. I have to feign a sense of urgency and commitment to my supposed meeting, all while secretly yearning for Claire to express her feelings about the situation. The seconds crawl by as I wait for her response, trying to discern any subtle changes in her tone.

Claire, concerned yet supportive, expresses understanding and reassures me. Her words provide a mixed bag of relief and discomfort, leaving me grappling with the reality that my actions have set in motion.

As the call concludes, the knot of uncertainty tightens within me. I know I'm playing a dangerous game, dancing on the precipice of betrayal and manipulation. The city lights flicker like distant stars, reflecting the complexities of the web I've woven.

Add conversations on the following, using simple vocabulary

I guess that she is not comfortable enough to speak on the phone but I quickly receive a text from her. She informs me that might not go home after all since Michael seems to want closure.

'I am not sure how this night will end though I am sure that Michael has something up his sleeve. He wants closure and I think I will give him that. Things might get tricky here that is why I need you to come pick me up if you are not comfortable about me being alone with Michael.' the text reads. At first, I cannot believe the audacity Claire has but a thought comes in mind.

'Maybe I should let nature take its course. This way she will be able to clearly tell, who is the better lover between Michael and I.'

So I text her back. 'No worries, have fun!'

The phone screen goes dark, plunging the room into a momentary void. I'm left alone, enveloped in the silence, contemplating the intricate dance of emotions and choices playing out beyond my reach. The city outside, with its pulsating life, remains oblivious to the internal turmoil that unfolds in the private sphere of messages and unreadable intentions.

As the night stretches on, I find myself caught in a paradox of emotions. The silence echoes through the room, amplifying the questions that linger in my mind. Does Claire truly want closure with Michael, or is this a delicate dance of emotions where the steps are uncertain and the music is unpredictable?

The clock ticks away, each second a reminder of the unfolding drama beyond my control. I resist the urge to reach out, to probe into the secrets of the night. Instead, I let the air hang with unspoken words, the weight of possibilities pressing against the walls.

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