CANAAN (Billionaire Titans Book 4) Page 4

  Madeline had learned to control men’s desire like a world-class marionettist. She intended to pull Canaan’s strings the way she always did, but even she had to admit that he was a different animal than her typical quarry. He was young, fit, and handsome, and she had high hopes that he’d be able to provide her with “entertainment” above and beyond that to which she’d become accustomed before she turned him over to her client.

  They reached her room, and Madeline set her things down, walking into the suite’s bedroom and sitting at the end of the California king, with her legs crossed seductively.

  “Strip, gladiator Canaanus. Show me your scars.”

  Canaan was still taken aback by Madeline’s directness, but he was past caring or trying to figure her out. Her sexuality was incandescent and overwhelming, and he was helpless to resist.

  He kicked his shoes away, unbuttoned his tailored shirt, and unbuckled his pants. As he pulled his shirt up and over his head and let it drop to the floor, Madeline grinned approvingly. He was even more well-built than she’d imagined, and for a moment she considered dropping the roleplaying charade and just letting him have his way with her.

  As much as she enjoyed the control and power, sometimes she just wanted to get fucked.

  When Canaan’s pants fell away, followed by his boxer briefs, the feeling intensified a thousand fold.

  His cock jutted away from his body, thick and heavy, pulsing with his heartbeat. She wasn’t sure she’d seen it’s equal, and she was eager to feel it inside her. Madeline shook her head to bring her back to the present, to the job at hand.

  Canaan noticed that for just a moment, Madeline’s cool façade vanished. Her eyes lingered a fraction of a second too long on him, on Canaan’s manhood, and the tip of her tongue appeared between her pursed lips.

  Their mutual attraction was feral.

  “Come closer, Canaanus,” Empress Madeline commanded. Canaan stepped forward, to where his rampant cock was close enough to her that he could feel her breath on it.

  She placed her palm on the underside of it and lifted it, judging it for weight.

  “Is this all the bigger it gets?” Madeline asked, making eye contact with her gladiator slave. “I mean; do you intend for this to satisfy your empress?”

  At the word “this” she gave a squeeze, pulled down, and released, letting it snap back up against the flat of his stomach, forcing a sharp intake of breath.

  “Oh!” Canaan exclaimed. “Yes. Yes, it will satisfy you, empress.”

  “If it doesn’t, you’ll be fed to the lions in the arena tomorrow,” Madeline threatened. “Will that motivate you properly?”

  “Pleasing you is all the reward needed to motivate this gladiator, empress,” Canaan responded.

  “Good answer,” Madeline agreed. “Lie down on the bed. On your back. Right here.” Madeline pointed to the foot of the bed. “Your head right on the edge.”

  Canaan took his place as Madeline commanded, and once he was in place she pulled her dress up past her knees and swung a leg across his face and straddled him. “Please me and gain the reward you crave so desperately.”

  Canaan was at once engulfed and overwhelmed by Madeline’s deeply aroused sex. He reached up to take hold of her hips, and her hands found his wrists, holding them in place.

  Madeline rocked her hips gently at first, letting his tongue explore every inch of the glistening altar to her femininity. She sighed contentedly, lingering in places it felt best, although nothing he did felt anything short of delicious. Her grip on Canaan’s wrists tightened as she let him work her clit for several seconds before prolonging her bliss by shifting forward and letting him explore inside her with his tongue.

  It was what she loved most in the world, having a man completely under her sway, devoted to no task but her pleasure, and she intended to make it last.

  Through hooded eyes, she glanced down at Canaan’s magnificent erection, watching it twitch and jump in the air, as if seeking her body out.

  For Canaan’s part, he’d rarely felt so alive. He was only vaguely aware that his cock was screaming at him to be stimulated. His undivided attention was devoted elsewhere. All he could smell and taste was the liquid sex pouring out of Madeline onto his tongue, and with her thighs and dress surrounding his face, his eyesight was useless, only heightening his senses of taste and smell ever more. Muffled as they were, all he could hear besides the pounding of his own heart were her occasional sighs and whimpers. He’d never experienced this position before, yet it instantly became his favorite.

  The circles in which Madeline’s hips rotated became a grinding back and forth as her orgasm approached. The tip of Canaan’s tongue would only just touch her clit before she pulled it away and smothered him again with her opening. She kept herself teetering on that edge for minutes, light-headed and floating somewhere over Vienna.

  It was that rarest of feelings, tightrope-walking the razor blade hovering thirty stories above ultimate ecstasy. Stepping off onto the roof of a nearby building would be easy. The only thing easier would be to let herself plummet into orgasm. To deny that temptation, however, to stretch the twilight brink of climax indefinitely, required steadfast willpower and fortitude. Delaying her immediate, ultimate gratification only made it that much sweeter when it arrived. She’d torment herself all night in a perfect world.

  Canaan, however, refused to wait for his reward. His hands and his cock combined with his tongue to rip the choice from her and send orgasmic thunderbolts crashing up and down her spine from her core to her very soul.

  Whimpering steadily, and letting her head roll back onto her shoulders, she glanced down and watched as a large, clear drop of fluid emerged from the tip of Canaan’s bouncing cock. Maddeningly, it slowly fell to his stomach, leaving a strand connecting it to his opening.

  At the same moment, he took firm hold of her hips and pulled her down onto his mouth, his tongue swarming over and around her clit. She struggled for a moment to prolong her time on the edge, but her effort was fruitless.

  The orgasm ripped through her, sending her thighs trembling and all the muscles in her back and abs contracting simultaneously. Her nails dug into Canaan’s wrists, but he only held her more firmly in place.

  When she finally, mercifully stopped thrashing, the collapsed, limply next to him on the bed.

  He rolled over, licking his lips to freshen the flavor of her essence on his lips, and he stood up. Pulling her hips to the edge of the bed, he pulled her ankles to his shoulders and drove into her, making her yelp at the sudden fullness. Just when she thought he’d given her everything, he lifted cupped her ass, lifted her for a moment to adjust the angle, and leaned his last inch into her.

  They moaned together, and just as soon as he’d filled her, Canaan withdrew and delivered a second thrust, followed by a third, fourth, and at that point Madeline lost count.

  Canaan’s arms crossed on Madeline’s shins, holding her right where he needed her, and he gave her the deep, thorough fucking for which her body ached.

  Her climaxes came from somewhere deep inside, a mysterious place only Canaan’s cock could reach. Her sex became liquid, followed by the rest of her. She belonged completely to him, to his wonderful, muscular dick, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him pulling out. Ever. For any reason.

  Canaan fucked her relentlessly, the red curls framing her gorgeous face perfectly. She was a molten vise around him, the tightness and heat turning him nearly inside out. Canaan went through his entire mental Rolodex of miserable things, places, and people in an effort to stave off his own orgasm, to make fucking Madeline Carmichael’s lush body an interminable event.

  He could feel her quivering and clenching, again and again, and the way she shrieked and squealed alongside the tremors convinced him that she was experiencing unrelenting ecstasy.

  The muscles in Madeline’s thighs finally started to cramp, and she begged Canaan for mercy.

  “I don’t…think I can…oh…oh...mmm…your cock�
��it’s too…it’s too much…please…”

  Canaan snickered at her pleading; she’d been the one who had invited him here; she was the one who’d seduced him. Her body was insane. Had he defeated her libido? Quenched her sexual thirst?

  He wanted to be certain.

  Canaan withdrew and gently rolled her onto her stomach, lifting her hips and pushing her dress up over the ripe, pale, porcelain ass.

  He aimed his cock once more at her soaked opening and thrust inside.

  Her fists balled in the bedsheets and she buried her head into the duvet, a whole new type and series of climaxes overwhelming her.

  Canaan’s hands spread the cheeks of Madeline’s ass as he fucked her, and he listened to her mew and babble incoherently as his cock laid her soul bare time and time again.

  After a particularly violent orgasm, she could no longer take the new position, either.

  “Canaan…please…your cock is…ugh…mmm…please come for me…I can’t take it…”

  “Say you’ll pull me from the pit…from the arena…and I’ll be your consort, empress…”

  Still, even after fucking her senseless, he played his role. She wanted to tell him to stop, but the power of speech had been short-circuited by with the last climax.

  “Any…Anything…Anything!” Madeline screamed.

  Canaan pulled back and rolled Madeline onto her back again, this time plunging between her spread legs and bringing his face to hers.

  He entered Madeline slowly, their lips brushing gently as he throbbed inside her.

  “Have I pleased you, empress?” he whispered as he gave her long, deep, slow strokes of his cock.

  “Oh, God yes. Yes!” Madeline assured Canaan as her hips undulated and rolled to get relief from the intense climaxes that wracked her succulent body.

  Canaan’s hand found Madeline’s face as he increased the tempo of his thrusts and his own breath turned ragged. Staring into her eyes so closely while he fucked her, tasting her mouth on his, was just too much.

  The two lovers gasped in unison as Canaan erupted inside Madeline, triggering her final orgasmic tsunami. He kissed her deeply as he felt her clenching down on his climaxing cock, holding him fast in her tight wetness.

  Madeline had never been so well and thoroughly fucked. She lay still and silent a good, long while as Canaan withdrew and rolled onto his back, sucking in great gulps of air.

  Their hands lifted off the bed and their fingers tangled up together as they turned their heads to allow their eyes to meet. Both Madeline and Canaan broke into wild grins as their pulses slowed and returned to normal and they basked in the afterglow of their union.

  After a time, Madeline stretched and pushed herself up on one elbow. She leaned in and kissed Canaan’s forehead, cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally, his mouth.

  “I need a drink,” Madeline said. “Can I get you something?”

  “Whatever you have is fine with me,” Canaan replied.

  Madeline called downstairs to have a bottle of Scotch sent up, with a dessert. She freshened up in the bathroom and returned wearing a robe to find room service setting a table for two on the balcony.

  Canaan had pulled his underwear back on and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the midnight snack be prepared outside.

  Madeline walked over, straddled his legs, and sat down, facing him. She looked into Canaan’s eyes and kissed him hard; a long, deep kiss that may have ended with both of them naked again had it not been for the small Austrian man working just a few feet away.

  A sinfully thick slab of chocolate cake, with the frosting covered in miniature chocolate chips, sat on a plate in the center of the small table, flanked by two forks and a pair of large, chilled glasses of milk.

  A crystal decanter of Macallan whiskey completed the ensemble.

  Canaan, clad only in his boxer briefs, pulled out a chair for Madeline and the two of them slowly savored the cake, a concoction so rich and sweet they needed sips of milk after each bite.

  Even with the two of them working on it, they couldn’t come close to finishing the cake. Canaan walked back inside and returned with two rocks glasses for the whiskey.

  Canaan offered to open and pour, but Madeline insisted on doing it herself. She opened the decanter and inhaled the aroma with her eyes closed, smiling.

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” she sighed.

  To Canaan’s, disbelief, she dispensed with the glasses and brought the decanter to her delicious mouth, taking a pull directly from the bottle.

  Wiping her bottom lip with the back of her hand, she passed the bottle to Canaan. “No matter how expensive the spirits, when you’ve just shared what we have, you go from the bottle. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “When in Rome,” Canaan replied, taking a drink himself, and staring at the bottle as he let it sit on his tongue a moment before swallowing.

  “Or Vienna,” Madeline grinned. “Macallan makes the best whiskey.” She motioned for Canaan to return the bottle.

  Canaan handed it back. “It’s good. Damn good. But I’m partial to bourbon from stateside. Tennessee and Kentucky. Delford Distillery in Kentucky makes the best stuff, in my opinion.”

  Madeline returned the bottle to Canaan, and he took a smaller swig.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever had it,” Madeline pondered. “I’m usually more a wine drinker, but I thought the occasion called for something stronger. Canaan, I hope that was half as good for you as it was for me.”

  She started motioning toward the bed.

  “Let me put it this way,” Canaan replied. “I could leave Vienna without the Gutenberg Bible, which, incidentally I may have to if I keep drinking this, and my trip to Austria will be a grand, unmitigated success based solely on meeting you. Well, more than just meeting, but you get the picture.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a lightweight,” Madeline joked. “But you’re probably right. Sunrise will be here before we know it, and it’s once more, back into the fray. You’re welcome to stay here tonight, or at least tuck me in and wait to leave until I fall asleep?”

  Canaan strode across the suite and checked the time on his phone. “I can stay a while, sure. If I didn’t have a breakfast appointment, I’d stay longer. But I’ll need a shower and fresh set of clothes.”

  “A shower might be a good idea,” Madeline agreed. “Unless you don’t mind smelling like… me.” She winked, suggestively.

  Madeline’s scent on Canaan’s face had kept him aroused long after they’d finished making love.

  “Oh, no, I don’t mind that at all,” Canaan insisted. “Not one bit. And as soon as this auction business is concluded, I’m free. So maybe this can just be a raincheck on spending the night?”

  Madeline pouted, playfully. “Alright, but I intend to cash that raincheck in sooner rather than later. Take me to bed.” Madeline stood up and let her robe fall open, her arms extended to embrace Canaan.

  Canaan swept her up into the air, carrying her back to the disheveled bed.

  “I can’t sleep in this,” Madeline said, letting the robe slip down off her right shoulder.”

  Canaan helped slip it off as she knelt on the bed, kissing her shoulder and across the top of her back, making Madeline shudder.

  “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to make you stay all night and keep doing it. And I may not let you leave in the morning,” Madeline said as she melted flat onto the bed on her stomach.

  Canaan kissed his way down the center of her back as she purred. When he reached the top of her heavenly ass, he stopped kissing, palmed it, and gave the flawless pale flesh a stinging slap, leaving his hand there, holding it as she yelped and looked back at him in surprise.

  “You’re not the only one who enjoys being in control,” Canaan said, with a smile.

  Madeline rolled onto her side and kissed Canaan passionately, her sex enflamed and wanting him again, but knowing she’d have to wait.

  Despite how indescribably good the sex was, and how instant her con
nection was with Canaan, she was a professional. And she knew that the sedative she’d applied over her lipstick in the bathroom would soon take effect and have Canaan in no position to give her what her body craved.

  “Are you feeling ok, Canaan?” she asked, noticing he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open, despite noticing that he was erect again.

  “I’ll be…I think I just need a minute and I’ll…”

  Madeline watched Canaan’s head come to rest on the pillow next to her, and she listened as his breath changed to something deeper and slower.

  Convinced he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, she stood up and walked to the bathroom. She wiped her lips with a towel there and pulled out her phone, sending a text message:

  Canaan Titan secure. In my room.

  8

  Years Ago…

  The four Titan brothers grew up Tom and Jerry fanatics, and as the youngest, and consequently the smallest, of the siblings, Canaan identified with Jerry the mouse. Tiny Jerry’s ability to outwit and overcome the much larger Tom inspired Canaan in the never-ending battle to outdo super-achievers Atlas and Odin.

  Achilles went his own direction, pursuing music, poetry, and other, more creative, outlets.

  In order to find something in which he excelled—an endeavor in which he could prove worthy of the Titan name— Canaan searched high and low. He’d never be Atlas’s physical equal; who was? And even if he could surpass Odin in the gym or on the track, he’d always be in Odin’s academic shadow.

  Tom and Jerry to the rescue.

  In Canaan’s favorite episode, Jerry played the role of one of the Three Musketeers, or in this case, Mouseketeers, and his swashbuckling swordplay won the day. Whereas other children wanted to be firemen or baseball players, Canaan Titan wanted to be a master swordsman.

  He gravitated toward Zorro and the Dread Pirate Roberts, and by the time he was seven, he was training with a private fencing coach his father, Emerson Titan, had retained to mentor his youngest son.