BILLIONAIRE (Part 6) (3 page)

“I’m
not letting you leave like this, Lila.  Let’s sit down and –”

“I
don’t want to sit down!  And it’s not up to you to
let
me do anything!
 Get
out of my way, Alexander
.  I
mean
it.”  I pushed at his shoulder, in
an attempt to move him but he was probably twice my weight and a good six
inches taller, not to mention strong as hell.

“
Lila
,”
he growled, in a futile attempt to stop me, and calm me.  His arms wrapped
around me in a stronghold, not forcefully, but with extreme, absolute
strength.  I was struggling, pushing against him but his hold was unbreakable. 
He slid down to a sitting position, cradling my squirming, writhing,
uncontrolled body in his lap, forming a cage with his muscular arms and legs. 
I might have been crying in my frustration with the comfort he provided, even
in this imprisonment of sorts.  I
wanted
him to want me like this,
obsessively, possessively.  I loved him too much.  I wanted to break free and
still crawl into his body and soul and live there forever.

He
was wiping my tears, holding my wrists in one of his fists to stop me from
lashing out.  He was kissing my face and my lips as he whispered a litany of
calming, soothing promises.  “You’re all right, honey girl.  I’ll come with
you, wherever you want to go.  I love you, did you know that?  Do you know how
much I love you?  I can’t see straight I love you so much.  I can’t fucking
bear the thought of you walking out that door and into the cold streets full of
madmen and darkness and back alleys and fucking craziness without me there to
protect you.  I want to protect you so much.  I want to keep you safe.  I want
to do everything for you, sweet girl.  Come on, you’re all right.  Don’t cry. 
I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.”

His
breath and his words were drugging me, an exotic elixir that leeched warmth
into my heart, thawing my rage, turning it into something else altogether.  I
let him kiss my parted lips in supplicating little nips that grew deeper,
longer.  His tongue touched mine gently at first, licking into my mouth.  His
kiss was soft yet firm, demanding.  Alexander was completely in charge, as
always, convincing me with the eloquence of his fire and his perfect allure
that I needed him, that I wanted him beyond reason.  The lick of his tongue was
feeding tiny darts of pleasure into me, to the tips of my breasts and the dewy,
softening heat between my thighs.  My skirt had ridden up during our tussle,
barely concealing me, and I was sitting on the half-open button fly of his
jeans.  The hard textures of the straining denim and the cold buttons against
my sensitive, moistening flesh made me moan into his mouth.

“That’s
my girl,” he crooned.  “You’re so beautiful, Lila.  I love you so much, sweet
girl.  You taste so fucking good.  Come on, that’s it.  Let me hold you.  Let
me kiss you.”

I
was writhing now for an entirely different reason, in gentle, circling grinds. 
He’d released my hands and I realized one of my fists was twined in his hair,
the other pressed against his chest, sliding lower, down his flat, muscled
stomach.  To the buttons of his jeans, which I unfastened blindly as I sucked
on his tongue.  He maneuvered us, pushing his jeans lower to release himself. 
My echoing rage had refocused into a flaring, white-hot need.  I climbed onto
him, straddling his hips, grabbing his massive, fully engorged length, grasping
and working him, rubbing myself against the beautiful, substantial hardness of
him.  I was still mad at him and my fury now translated into pure greed for
pleasure. 
My
pleasure.  He had unbuttoned the shirt I wore and was
fingering my nipples, twirling and pulling them into tight peaks as his
slippery kisses grew hungrier.  The pinching pain delivered by his fingers made
me moan louder and sent ripples of sweet fire to my fluttering core.  I wanted
him there.  I wanted to ride him and fuck him almost viciously.  I was not
gentle as I cupped him from below, forming a cage of my own, squeezing as I
guided the slick, broad head of his cock to the folds of my sex, using him to
caress my clit in pressing, rhythmic glides as I moved against him.  As
determined as I was to give myself pleasure, I could tell that my selfish,
feverish approach was arousing him beyond belief.  His cock was as hard as silk-covered
stone and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.  I impaled myself by
velvety, star-studded degrees, moistening his length with the wetness of my own
desire to gain more of him.

“
Oh,
God.  Lila.  You feel so fucking unbelievably good
,” he groaned as I rose
up then slid down the full length of him until he was fully inside me.  His
hands fell to my hips and I held them there.

I
was in control now.  I rubbed my full breasts against the hair-roughened
surface of his chest.  I kissed and bit his lips and his neck.  And I rode him
like a rodeo hero, finding the exact angle I wanted, sliding along his rigid
length, arching until only the tip of him was inside me, torturing him with
wiggling teases, taking a little more, then sitting harder onto him, squeezing
him with my inner muscles to pull him deeper.  All the while, he watched my
face, his eyes half-drowsed and half-feral with pleasure.

“You’re
a bully, you know,” I whispered, as once again I lowered myself fully onto his
thick, hot cock, clenching around him, sitting still aside from the squeezing,
undulating pressure, reveling in my own power over him.

He
groaned.

“You
can come with me when we go out,” I told him, kissing his lips before catching
his plump lower lip between my teeth, biting gently into the soft flesh as I
lifted my hips.  He almost slid free of me.  But I held him in place, circling
and pleasuring my budded clit with his throbbing shaft before taking him fully
once again into my tight, silky sheath.  “On one condition.”  I nipped his
earlobe, whispering into his ear.  “I’m keeping my job.  I’m going to work with
you and be with you and help you.  And sometimes, when I feel like it, I’m
going to get myself off, just like this, right on your desk.  I’m going to use
you, like you use me.  I’m going to love you, like you love me.  And I’m going
to make love to you wherever and whenever I want.”

Again,
I teased him, rising up until he slipped from the warm, wet embrace of my
body.  To this, Alexander reacted.  With practically-inhuman strength, he
lifted me and laid me onto my back in a move that was as gentle and controlled
as it was uncompromising.  Laying himself onto me, he entered me with forceful,
total perfection, pushing his thick cock as deep as I could take him.  Then he
pulled almost all the way out, mimicking my actions, again thrusting into me
with punishing fervor.  He bit my earlobe, as I’d done to him, whispering,
“You’ll let me indulge my obsession, and to protect you as I see fit.  And I’ll
agree to
try
to employ you.  I can’t guarantee that this will work for
me, though.  I’m too close, too deep.  I need to be able to focus on my
companies, without distractions.  And you, my sweet Lila, are more of a
distraction than I can handle.”

He
thrust again, as though to illustrate a point.  His hands were on my ass,
holding me in squeezing handfuls up as he drove into me, ensuring complete
possession.  His fingers worked me from behind, spreading me and pressing
barely into the secret pucker as his driving plunges found sweet, sleek
friction inside me.  His pounding vigor was relentless, almost savagely thick
and deep.  Delicious agony gave way to a climbing, tense beauty.  The pumping
glide of Alexander’s big cock seemed to force the pleasure into me in weighty, potent
bursts that found me moaning and pleading for everything he had to give.  “
Oh,
God, it’s too much.  I’m coming, Alexander, I’m coming.  More, give me more. 
Please, oh, please.  Oh, God, oh, please.”

My
climax began as a high peak of accumulating ecstasy that held in a feverish
swell.   Then the pleasure erupted into a wild torrent of blissful, clenching
spasms that milked Alexander’s orgasm from his body in hot, wet pulses.  He
groaned with his release: a low, tortured growl against my neck.  Then he went
still and heavy, his cock twitching out the last vestiges of his rapture inside
me.

After,
we lay still for a while, sated and replete, riding the rush, allowing it to
glide and to mellow.  Physically, we were profoundly connected.  And it went
deeper than that.  I felt Alexander to the core of my being.  I savored his
weight and his warmth to the depths of my soul.  To feel him like this,
protective yet conquered, our arms and legs entwined, our hair tangled, the
slickness of our lovemaking like a luscious, life-giving bond, I could forgive
him his faults.  His overbearing dominance.  His over-protectiveness.  I could
see from this vantage point that his faults were all about his love for me and
his desire to keep me close, and safe.  I understood why he acted the way he
did, and I knew what fueled his concern.  From within the scope of my own
vulnerabilities, I realized I not only accepted his shielding, compulsive
tactics: I
craved
them.  We could argue about his obsession and his way
of managing it, but here and now, with his big, male body on me and in me,
dozing in a haze of post-coital satisfaction, all I could feel was my love for
him.  My devotion.  He was everywhere and everything.

I
kissed his face and he stirred, levering his weight with his arms.  “I’m
crushing you,” he murmured, kissing me tenderly.  “I love you.  God, how I love
making love to you.  I want to live inside you, just like this.”  He pushed his
softened shaft deeper into me, kissing me again in leisurely, lusty bites and
licks.  His tongue found ever more intimate angles, just tasting me, gently
exploring, as though I was the most exotic fruit he’d ever come across.  “I’m
not done with you yet,” he said.  Positioned as we were, with my legs still
wrapped around him, I could tell that his cock was beginning to harden again,
already.  Just the sensation of all that, swelling inside me, made me feel
happy.  Lucky.  He felt so good, so spectacularly
male
.

At
that moment, his email alert pinged and my stomach made a little growling
sound.  I thought he might be distracted by the call of his subjects, but
instead he said, “You’re hungry.”

I
smiled at him, pleased that
I
was his priority.  “A little.”

“What’s
it to be for my beautiful, insatiable, magical Lila?  Filet mignon?  Chocolate
cake?  Anything you want.  Your wish is my command.”

I
thought about it for a minute, loving the mesmerized adoration in his eyes. 
Mine.
 
Like this, he was mine.  “Ice cream,” I said.  “I want ice cream.”

His
face lit up.  “I
have
ice cream.  Butterscotch swirl.  And whipped
cream.”

“That
sounds perfect,” I told him, kissing him because I loved him madly and it was
an amazing feeling.  So new, so head-over-heels, in-at-the-deep-end, scary-good
amazing.  Like this, nothing could touch us.

Alexander
pulled himself from my body.  Very carefully, he lifted me up.  He carried me
to his bed, setting me onto the cool sheets and fluffing the pillows before
arranging me against them.  Then he leaned down to take a nipple into his
mouth, sucking and licking unhurriedly before moving to the other one.  He
feasted on my breasts until my nipples were hard and pink.  “Wait here,” he
ordered, his eyes bright.  “I’m going to feed you, and I want you completely
naked when I get back, all right?”  His pulled on the low-slung jeans he still
half-wore and he got up and walked to the door, opening it and disappearing.

It
wasn’t difficult to fulfill his demand; I slipped off the skirt that had been
bunched around my waist and ripped at the seam during our frenzy.

Our
first argument, and we’d weathered it mostly unscathed.

While
I waited for him, I basked in the rays of sunlight that striped the bed, and
listened to the steady fill of Alexander’s inbox as his computer chirped from
the corner as though demanding attention.  I couldn’t help feeling a sense of
bittersweet triumph, listening to the sound of his minions, seeking his
attention.  I’d won, in a way.
 I
was the one he was lavishing with
attention.  The minions could wait until I was appeased and satisfied.  I was
his priority and his obsession.

And
I was glad he’d agreed to at least
try
to work with me.  I’d get to
watch him at his game, emperor of the empire, and be with him during the days
as well as the nights.  The work itself was exciting to me, but even more, I
was elated that I’d convinced Alexander not to cast me out, not to put me on
some distant pedestal.  I wanted him to trust me and to trust himself.

I
hoped he could.

Alexander

Jake
was getting impatient, like they all were.  He’d have to wait, at least for
another hour or two.  My priorities hadn’t exactly changed; it was more like
they’d been blown out of the fucking water.  I’d checked in from time to time,
made a few critical phone calls, given the odd decisive hard word to a weak
link when the need arose.  I’d been building these systems for more than ten
years.  I’d selected and trained my staff carefully for good reason.  I should
be able to take a week or two off – or three – if I fucking felt like it, and
not have the whole goddamn thing crumble to the ground in ruins.  I’d slogged
away for years to make sure my interests had solid foundations and impeccable
records.  But there were always glitches that needed experienced problem
solving.  Jake was up to speed but he was still young.  I’d pin his mistakes on
that, for now.  My brother was a loose cannon and always had been.  It was part
of the reason I gave him a job and put him in charge of his own company.  That
way, at least I could keep an eye on him.  He was a punk who didn’t follow
rules, inside the boardroom or out of it.  His style was reckless, I knew that
only too well.  With women, with life in general.  Sometimes a dose of
recklessness worked in business.  Sometimes it gave you an edge.  This time it
had backfired.  The insider-trading fiasco at his company was coming to a
head.  It was time for me to step in, get rid of a few bad seeds and placate
the authorities with solid numbers, with rolling heads and, if necessary, with
money.