Taming the Cold billionaire

No more Restraint

Lena barely had time to process before Damian had her pinned against the glass. One strong hand gripped her chin, forcing her gaze up to meet his stormy, unreadable eyes. His body pressed into hers, the heat radiating off him like a furnace.

“Tell me, Lena.” His voice was low, dangerously calm. “Did you enjoy teasing me tonight?”

A shiver ran down her spine. The dark promise in his tone sent a rush of heat between her thighs.

She licked her lips, tilting her chin up in defiance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damian’s hand slid from her chin to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his palm. His other hand traced down the curve of her back before gripping her ass, pulling her flush against him.

“You’ve been testing me all night,” he murmured. “Flirting with another man just to see how far you could push me.”

Lena’s breath hitched. “And what if I was?”

A dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Then I’d say it’s time you learned a lesson.”

Before she could react, he spun her around, pressing her hands against the cool glass. The city glittered beneath them, but all she could focus on was the heat of his body against her back, the rough grip of his hands on her hips.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice dropping into something darker, more commanding.

A thrill ran through her. This was what she wanted—to see him lose control, to feel the sharp edge of his desire.

His hands trailed up her arms before gliding down her sides, slow, torturous. Then, without warning—

Smack.

A sharp gasp tore from her lips as his palm connected with her ass. The sting melted into pleasure almost instantly, sending a flood of heat through her body.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Damian chuckled, low and dark. “That got your attention.”

He did it again, his palm landing with just the right amount of force to leave her aching for more.

“You wanted to play games, Lena?” His hand trailed down, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her dress, tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Then let’s play.”

She pressed her forehead against the glass, gripping the surface as his fingers slid higher, teasing the edge of her lace panties.

“You’re soaked.” His voice was pure satisfaction. “I barely touched you.”

Lena whimpered as he pushed the thin fabric aside, his fingers sliding over her slick heat.

“Damian…” Her voice was breathless, desperate.

He dragged a single finger through her folds, spreading the wetness before circling her c**t with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered against her ear.

“Yes,” she gasped, arching into his touch.

He chuckled, then pressed a finger inside her, curling it just right. Her legs trembled.

“You take me so well,” he murmured, adding another, stretching her, stroking deep.

Lena moaned, her body tightening, heat coiling low in her belly.

But just when she was on the brink, Damian pulled away.

She whined at the loss, turning her head to glare at him.

Damian smirked, his fingers glistening as he lifted them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Lesson learned?” he asked, his voice rich with amusement.

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Not even close.”

His smirk vanished.

“Good.”

Something snapped in him.

With a growl, Damian grabbed the hem of her dress and yanked it up, exposing her bare thighs and lace panties. He took a step back, just enough to admire the view, his fingers tracing over the curve of her ass.

Then, without warning—

Smack.

The sharp slap of his palm against her bare skin made her gasp, a mix of pain and pleasure rippling through her. The sting faded almost instantly, replaced by a slow, pulsing heat that went straight to her core.

“Oh…” she breathed, her nails digging into the glass.

Damian chuckled darkly. “That got your attention.”

Another slap, this time harder, making her arch her back instinctively.

“You like pushing my limits,” he mused, his voice like velvet and steel. “But you forget, Lena—I can push yours too.”

He soothed the burn with his palm, only to deliver another smack, making her whimper. The pleasure was almost overwhelming now, every nerve in her body tingling with need.

“I should make you beg,” he murmured, dragging his hand between her thighs, just barely brushing against the lace of her panties. “But you’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

She let out a small, involuntary moan as his fingers traced the thin fabric, teasing her mercilessly.

“Tell me,” he demanded, pressing his mouth against the side of her neck. “Did you enjoy making me jealous tonight?”

Lena bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

Damian exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin.

“Fine.”

He hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties and yanked them down, letting them pool at her ankles. The sudden exposure sent a thrill through her, but she didn’t have time to process it before his fingers slid through her folds, finding her already drenched.

“f**k,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re dripping for me.”

He teased her, running his fingers through her wetness but never giving her exactly what she needed.

“Damian,” she whimpered, pressing her hips back against him.

He smirked against her neck. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You know what I need.”

He hummed in approval, then—without warning—slipped a finger inside her.

Lena gasped, her body clenching around him, desperate for more.

“I love the way your p***y is clenching around my fingers,” he murmured, adding another, stretching her, teasing her with slow, torturous strokes.

She gripped the glass harder, biting her lip as pleasure coiled low in her belly. He curled his fingers just right, brushing against the spot that made her see stars.

“Damian,” she moaned, her voice breathless.

He smirked. “That’s right. Say my name when you come.”

He increased the pace, his fingers relentless now, the wet sounds of her arousal filling the space between them. She was close—so close she could feel the tension tightening inside her, her entire body trembling.

But just as she was about to tip over the edge—he pulled away. “No!” she gasped, spinning around to glare at him.

Damian smirked, his fingers glistening as he lifted them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“You’re such a bastard,” she breathed.

He only chuckled, dark and satisfied. “Turn around.” His voice was laced with authority, sending another wave of heat through her.

She hesitated for a moment, but then, slowly, she obeyed.

Damian wasted no time. He lifted her, carrying her toward the bed, his grip possessive. Lena barely had time to catch her breath before he had her pinned beneath him, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was all-consuming—deep, hot, desperate.

His hands roamed her body, exploring, teasing, until she was writhing beneath him, begging for more. “You’re mine,” he growled against her lips, his hands tangling in her hair.

Lena met his gaze, her own filled with fire.

“Then prove it.”

And then he did.

For the rest of the night, Damian showed her exactly what it meant to belong to him.