Chapter Four

Over the first couple of weeks, Billy fucked up far more than he'd ever expected. As a man who was something of a perfectionist, it left his ego bruised — not enough to make him think about giving up on you, mind. No, if anything the challenge you presented just made him want you more.

Fortunately for the both of you, he learned his lessons quickly.

When he'd asked for a picture of your lunch, he'd been watching you through the security system he'd had set up in your studio, and he'd seen what it had done to you. When you'd started to spiral, he'd realised that he'd need to take a softer, more guided approach with you.

For you, this wasn't some game or submission kink like he'd originally thought. You genuinely wanted — no, needed — him to take control.

So, that was what he did.

He soon noticed the change in you. After taking control of your schedule, ensuring that you ate three meals a day, and that you slept, you went from constantly exhausted to bright-eyed. You seemed calm and less prone to upset once he started taking care of the little things in your life.

And, when he was touching you, you were completely content and unburdened. He could silence your anxiety, distract you from anything that made you worry. And he did. As often as he could. He fucked you every night — sometimes a couple of times during the day, too. It was surprising just how eager you were, but he didn't question it.

Billy wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you.

You let him put you on his insurance and arrange a doctor's appointment for you, and you didn't even question his decision to start you on birth control. He hoped you understood that it was because he wanted to keep you safe. And, after a second appointment, you shyly told him that he wouldn't need to buy anymore condoms.

He nodded and quickly ushered you back to his car.

It hadn't been his intention to fuck you on the back seat, but the midday traffic in Manhattan made the wait unbearable.

Pulling you to his side, he started to trail kisses down your neck. You squirmed, pressing closer as your breath hitched, tilting your head to give him better access.

You didn't hesitate to part your legs as his hand slid up your thigh, and you didn't bother to hold back your needy moan the second his finger brushed against your panties. It didn't take much for the soft cotton to become damp beneath his touch, and he could tell from your panted breaths that your arousal was quickly mounting.

"Billy..."

It was little more than a whisper, but he was already so attuned to you that it might as well have been a shout. He knew what you wanted, what you needed, even if you weren't sure yourself.

"Do you want to come, sweetheart?" He muttered against your neck, and you whined yes. "Do you want my fingers or my cock?"

"Don't care," you muttered breathlessly. "Just want you..."

It broke him every time — you didn't care how, just that it was him.

He didn't hesitate before pulling you onto his lap, holding you close enough to feel his erection straining against his pants.

The car jerked forward again, then stopped. It was enough to have you glancing out of the window, suddenly distracted by the outside world. Billy gripped your chin and forced your attention back to him.

"We have time," he reassured you, knowing better than most how long a Manhattan traffic jam could last.

He led your hand to his crotch and watched as your fingers clumsily undid his pants to pull out his cock.

You bit your lip, not used to him letting you have so much control.

He wasn't used to it either. In fact, he was fighting every urge that told him to lay you back on the seat and fuck you hard. But this was a big step, it was something new, and he needed to know that you wanted it.

Billy let out a low groan as your fingers wrapped around him and started to stroke up and down his shaft. He didn't need it, he was already hard, but the way you touched him always felt so good that he didn't want to tell you to stop. Instead, he gave a subtle hint, pushing up your dress and pulling your panties to the side.

Your hands moved to his shoulders as you lifted yourself over him. There was no hesitation, no moment of second thought before you started to sink onto his cock, gasping at the sensation of finally feeling him inside you.

Billy had to think about baseball ball stats just to distract himself from the heavenly feeling that was your warm, wet cunt.

The grip on his shoulders tightened and you buried your face against his neck, shuddering with every breath you took. Billy didn't move, barely even dared to breathe. He gave you time to get used to the new sensations.

"You feel so good," you murmured against his neck after a minute had passed.

"So do you," he said, tenderly stroking your hair.

Another minute passed before you lifted your head, an almost dazed expression on your face as you gave a testing roll of your hips. Billy hummed in approval and you took it as a sign to do it again.

It wasn't long before you were slowly riding him. He let you set the pace — slow at first, then gaining momentum as your pleasure started to build. Billy found himself watching your face, taking a mental note of every flash of pleasure and the way your mouth went slack with each moan.

You weren't like other women he'd been with. For you, enjoyment seemed almost like a surprise, and that thought caused his stomach to coil and knot. One way or another, he was going to show you what you deserved. He wasn't going to stop until you understood that he wanted you to feel as much pleasure as he did.

Eventually your hips started to stutter. You were on the precipice but couldn't quite slip over. He started to move with you, meeting your thrusts, and sliding a hand up your thigh. A moan tore from your lips the second his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit, and a few second later, you were coming undone.

Billy put up a valiant effort, wanting to wring more than one orgasm from you, but it was too much. He came a couple of seconds later, tightly winding his arms around your waist, clinging to you for dear life as he fell apart.

He'd never experienced anything like it before — he'd fucked more women than he could remember but you made him feel like it was the first time all over again. You gasped and whined with every pulse of his cock inside you, your whole body shaking and trembling with pleasure. Your fingers were gripping his shoulders tight enough to leave bruises, but Billy didn't care.

He wanted you to hold him tight.

He wanted you to never let him go.

You remained on his lap, Billy's cock still buried inside of you, as the car continued to creep through traffic, and didn't move until his building was in view.

He helped you pull your clothes back into place and gave you a gentle kiss before helping you out of the car. You clung to his side all the way up to the penthouse and only let go of his hand when he ushered you into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

When you emerged he'd already made lunch — nothing fancy, just some bagels and coffee — and the pair of you sat and ate together.

"Take the rest of the day off," he said. It wasn't quite a question but it wasn't a command either. Work meant a lot to you and he never wanted to take it away from you. "I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

All he had to do was flash you a smile and you agreed to put off work until tomorrow.

It was a spur of the moment thought, something he hadn't planned for, but the way your face lit up when you realised he was taking you to the Guggenheim was worth the hassle of changing his schedule. You practically wrenched his arm out of its socket as you pulled him inside, already knowing your way around from the time you'd spent working there.

The change in you was instantaneous. You went from a shy little thing, to outgoing and boisterous, completely in your element as you pulled him from painting to painting. He'd never heard you talk so much and so passionately, and to know that he'd done something to bring out that side of you left him feeling like he was on top of the world.

It became clear that it wasn't the individual pieces you loved, but the stories behind them. You grinned with excitement as you told him about paintings that had been deemed unsalvageable for years until someone like you came along and proved everyone wrong, and you beamed as you told him about various thefts and heists. And, as the day went on, Billy felt the growing fondness in his chest intensifying, becoming some wholly untameable thing.

"Thank you," you said as the pair of you stepped out into the cold evening air, still hand in hand as you had been the whole afternoon.

Billy stopped to face you, giving a confused look. "You don't have to thank me for doing things to make you happy."

"I am happy with you." You didn't even hesitate before speaking. "Really happy. That's why I... I just want you to know that I'm grateful..."

He cupped your cheek with his free hand and shook his head. "I know you are, sweetheart."

"No, I —" you started and then stopped, your gaze pulling away from him.

"What?" He asked. You didn't answer. "You can tell me."

It took you a few seconds to look at him again. You forced a breath and started to explain.

"I just... I really like you, Billy. I like being with you and I like... this..."

"This?" He repeated, tenderly stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"You looking after me," your voice turned low and shy. "Everyone else has always said I'm a burden..."

"Hey," he said, tone sharpening enough to ensure your attention stayed on him. "I'm not everyone else, and I don't think you're a burden. I want to look after you. I like looking after you."

"Why?" You asked softly. "Isn't it hard work?"

He didn't mean to laugh, but he couldn't keep the sound from bubbling out of him. A flicker of hurt on your face silenced him.

"No. It's not hard work. Not even close," he said, shaking his head. "Looking after you, making sure you're happy, it makes me happy. I feel completely in control when I'm with you, and moments like this — seeing how happy you were when we got here, how happy you've been all day — it makes it all worthwhile."

"Oh..."

Billy didn't ask what the little sound meant, he just took the following silence to mean that you understood.

He took you back to your place and stayed the night with you.

Laying in bed beside you was quickly becoming his favourite part of your arrangement. Not even the sex, just being able to hold you in his arms and talk to you about everything and nothing. He would talk and you would listen. You made him feel heard.

You'd lay facing him, your nose inches from his, and you'd look at him like you saw beyond his looks and his money, right down to his soul.

It should have terrified him just how close he felt to you, and how wrapped up in you he had become in such a short span of time.

He didn't tell you that he spent most of his days with his attention split between his work and watching the security feed from your studio. Nor did he tell you about the tracking software he uploaded onto your phone, even though he was certain you would have let him if he asked, if he'd told you it was because he wanted to always know where you were and that you were safe.

Another week passed by before your next bout of uncertainty.

You were laid beside him in his bed, panting for breath, hair damp with sweat. Instead of looking at him, instead of pressing closer to him like you always did after sex, you stared up at the ceiling, completely removed from the moment.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly.

You bit your lip and kept your gaze fixed upwards. "Am I... enough for you?"

Billy propped himself up on his elbow to see you better "What are you talking about? Of course you're enough for me — where is this coming from?"

"I don't know... it's been weeks and I..." you let out a slow breath. "I thought you wanted me to submit to you..."

"You have been," he said, reaching for you to brush your hair away from your face. "All of this — you letting me make decisions, and doing what I say — is a form of submission. It's not all spanking and handcuffs... though if that's something you're interested in..."

He smiled but the joke didn't land. You were too deep into your uncertainty to even register that it was a joke.

Honestly, he hadn't even really thought too much about it. When he'd posted the ad, he'd wanted someone submissive in the bedroom because he never expected to be given so much control out of it, but every day with you had settled his need so he'd never needed to ask for more.

"I don't want you to get bored of me," you said.

"That's not going to happen. But, if you'd like me to take a more dominant role, then I'm more than happy to."

Again and again, he was struck by the notion that you'd been mistreated, that someone had allowed you to feel like you didn't deserve to be happy. You'd let little things about your ex slip out, but it was moments like this that told Billy all he needed to know.

"I'm in control but that doesn't mean that you don't get what you need, understand?" He asked.

You shook your head. Billy moved himself, leaning over you so you couldn't avoid his gaze.

"This isn't about me taking what I want from you," he explained. "It's a partnership. You're giving me what I want by doing as I say, and I'm trying to give you what you need..."

"What do I need?"

"Someone to care for you. Someone to show you that what you want matters," he told you softly. "I want to be that person for you. I want to make you happy."

"I am happy."

"Then I'm happy too." He leaned and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before you could think of continuing the conversation.

Billy had learned that you'd let thoughts fester, that you'd dwell on the smallest things if he didn't pull you back and draw a clear line beneath it. But, still, he kept your comment in mind, deciding he needed to do something about it.

He didn't decide what exactly until the next day.

After meeting you for lunch, Billy decided to give you a tour of Anvil, letting you see a new side of his life. He wanted to show you that he trusted you and, more than that, that he wasn't hiding you away. From the look on your face as you stepped inside, he could tell you had feelings about the decor and how things looked, but you didn't say anything.

You spent the better part of an hour pressed to his side, seeing the company he'd created and meeting some of the people he worked with. Every time, he introduced you as his girlfriend. Usually he was reluctant to label a relationship but with you it just felt right. Everything about being with you felt right.

It was overwhelming for you. Especially meeting Frank.

"So this is what's been keepin' you so busy lately," Frank said, grinning at Billy but offering his hand to you in introduction. "Frank Castle."

You shook his hand and managed to get out your name.

He asked what you did and you answered.

"So, where've you been hidin' this one?" Frank asked, attention back on Billy.

"I haven't been hiding her," Billy shrugged with an effortless ease that he only ever found with Frank before meeting you. "I've been keeping her to myself."

"Well, you know Maria's gonna want to meet her," Frank said, gaze flitting to you for a second. "Maria's my wife and for some unknown reason, she's pretty fond of this knucklehead."

"She sounds nice," you said, and Billy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Maybe we can have dinner sometime?" Billy offered, knowing that he needed to stay in control of the situation and make sure you weren't overwhelmed by the attention you were receiving. Then he looked at his watch. "Don't you have that thing at —"

"Shit — yeah, better not leave the recruits waitin'."

Frank said his goodbye and gave you one last, lingering look as if he was sizing you up, then he left.

It didn't take long for Billy to get you to his office, briefly introducing you to his secretary before closing the door and pulling you close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you melted in his arms and let out a soft sigh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you murmured against his chest. "Did you mean what you said? About going for dinner with your friend and his wife?"

"I did. I think you'd like Maria — and I know she'd like you."

He felt some of the tension leave your body but you remained pressed against your chest, obviously still feeling overwhelmed and in need of comfort from him. But Billy didn't want to coddle you, and he didn't want you to feel like hiding away was the only way to deal with things.

It was at that moment that he remembered your conversation from the night before.

"I want you to do something for me," he said, waiting until you lifted your head before continuing. "Kneel for me. I want to try something."

You stared at him for a moment, confused and a little surprised, but you did what he asked and lowered yourself to your knees.

Billy bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that he couldn't rush this, no matter how much he wanted to. This wasn't about him, it was about you and helping you to feel more comfortable.

"Give me your hand."

When you did, he took hold of it and led it to his crotch, pressing your warm palm against him. His cock gave an insistent twitch beneath your hand and, finally, you realised what he wanted from you.

You kept your eyes fixed on him, any previous nervousness now completely gone. You didn't even seem to care that Billy's secretary was still at her desk, just beyond the door.

"I have an appointment in 10 minutes," he said. "I want you to make me come before then, understand?"

You nodded and he released your hand, leaving it entirely up to you how you wanted to go about it. Billy wanted your submission, but in a way that made you feel confident and in control.

Fingers gripped him through his pants, giving his cock a testing squeeze before smoothing over the length of him. Billy's hands balled into loose fists at his side to keep himself from reaching for you.

"Nine minutes," he said quietly, reminding you that there was a countdown.

Billy watched your fingers tug at his belt and zipper, letting you do what you wanted — letting you pull down his pants and his boxers so they sat on his thighs. Your hand quickly wrapped around his cock, stroking him, getting him so hard it was a physical ache, desperate for relief. He groaned and you grew bolder at the sound.

Leaning forward, you gave a testing lick across the tip of his cock and let out a soft sound of your own at the taste of precum. The second lick was more certain, and Billy groaned again. You kept stroking him as your tongue ran over the crown of his cock, using slow and measured movements so you could gauge his reaction.

He instantly regretted not asking for this sooner when you looked up at him, that familiar timid look on your face as you sought his approval.

"That's it, sweet heart. That feels so good," he said, daring to brush the tips of his fingers across your cheek.

Emboldened, you leaned in and licked him again — soft and slow little licks across his tip before starting to lavish attention on the underside of his cock.

It was an effort not to press himself against your lips and sink into the heat of your mouth. He wanted more, but he didn’t want to push. That was for another time.

You quickly gained an awkward sort of confidence, licking and stroking as if you were trying to prove yourself. Billy didn't bother to tell you that you had nothing to prove, he just watched. Soon enough your lips were wrapping around his cock, sliding him into your mouth.

His groans got louder and he stopped caring about the time — he'd cancel his meeting if it meant more of this, more of you. (Though, really, it was wishful thinking believing that he'd last any length of time when you hollowed your cheeks against him and sank your lips along him.)

"Fuck."

You moaned around him in response, sounding as eager as he felt.

It wasn't the first time you'd done this — he could tell that much from the way you moved, knowing when to stop to keep yourself from gagging — but Billy didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about your past, because your future was the only thing that mattered now. And your future was with him.

Your hand wrung around what wouldn't fit in your mouth and Billy couldn't remember ever having a blowjob quite like it. But that was something else he didn't want to think about. No, he didn't want to think about all the racing thoughts in his head or that feeling that kept swelling in his chest. He just wanted to enjoy you sucking his cock.

"Sweetheart," he groaned reluctantly, "I'm close."

He didn't want to give you the option, but this wasn't about him, and he wasn't about to risk crossing a line when you were doing so well.

When you looked up at him, his cock between your lips, and nodded, Billy almost lost his mind.

You kept going and, a few seconds later, he came. You stayed where you were, lips wrapped tight around him, making sure he was good and done before daring to pull away from him.

Billy was left panting, his legs weak beneath him. Somehow, he found the strength to reach down and help you to your feet again. You stumbled forward, back into his arms and pressed your face to his chest again.

"You did so well," he told you. "That was amazing, and tonight I'm going to reward you for it."

The intercom on his desk gave an obnoxious buzz before you could respond, and you tensed.

"Mr Russo, your 2 o'clock is on his way up," came the voice of his secretary.

"I can cancel," Billy offered.

"N-no, it's fine," you said, pulling away from him and giving him a shy smile. "I need to get back to the studio."

"Alright, let me walk you to the elevator," he said, already tucking himself back into his pants.

Moments later he was ushering you out of his office and down the corridor towards the elevators, your hand gripping his like you didn't want to let him go. He didn't want to let you go. In fact, he was regretting even making it an offer. He should have just told you to take the rest of the day off so he could take you home.

The elevator arrived just as you reached it, dinging as the doors slid open, and —

Your hand wrenched from his and you took a sharp breath.

Felix Sullivan, a new client of Anvil, stepped out of the elevator, his eyes fixed on you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked.

You took a step back. "I — I wasn't... I'm not —"

"You know each other?" Billy asked. He wasn't sure what was happening or how to fix it, so he pulled Sullivan's attention.

The other man seemed to realise that Billy was there and his expression went from annoyance to apologetic in a heartbeat.

"I'm so sorry. She knows she's not supposed to come near me," Felix said, shaking his head before glancing at you again. "You know you can't do shit like this anymore."

"I — I didn't —" you tried but your voice was little more than a whisper.

"I don't know what she told you to get in here, but she's..." he paused, obviously thinking over his next words very carefully, "... she's not right. In the head. She does this sometimes; turns up when she knows I'll be somewhere."

Before Billy could wrap his head around what was being said, before he could even think to explain that you were his girlfriend, and before he could even contemplate his growing desire to break Sullivan's nose, you were moving. Billy tried to reach for you, but it was all so sudden, you were gone in an instant.

Darting past both men, you jabbed at the elevator buttons, and as the doors slid shut, Billy saw tears streaming down your cheeks.

A/N : I know I said this last time but now I'm pretty certain that I'll be back to normal next week. Working retail over the holidays is hell, coupled with the new dog and being ill for a few weeks, it's made it hard to find the time to sit down to write. But, as of tomorrow, I'll be back to normal hours and not be expected to socialise with anyone. Thanks so much for your patience with this one and sorry about the cliffhanger ending!! I'll try to find time to reply to comments/asks/dms next week! Hope you all had lovely Xmas'/New Years

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list : @oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bartonsparrow25 @shwnirwin

@vis-arc @xoxabs88xox @amelijamorozova @amora-morozova @marginailia