Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (35 page)

“
Anyway, why are you being so hostile? We had fun,
didn't we?”

I memory of eternal pleasure flows like a wave through
my head, bringing a genuine smile to my lips.

“
I suppose.”

“
Then what's the problem, Abby? OK, I know I can come
across as a bit arrogant...”

A bit?!

“
...but I'll make sure I'm nicer from now on, OK?”

“
Now on?”

“
Sure. My father loves your mom, and I haven't seen
him like this in years. And he's very into family, so we're going to
be seeing
a lot
more of each other.”

He holds his wine glass up, ready to toast something.

“
So let's make an effort to be friends....deal?”

I hesitantly take my glass, raise it aloft, and tap it
against his.

And just as I make the promise to try, I watch that same
look of lust flutter behind his narrow eyes.

Chapter Two

“
I'll hear nothing of the sort. We have plenty of room
here, I absolutely insist.”

Stephen is standing hand in hand with my mother, both of
them looking deliriously happy after returning from their romantic
moonlit stroll around the grounds. The slight ruffle in my mother's
usually immaculate hair would suggest that they did a little more
than walk, a thought that I quickly relegate to the back of my head.

“
Abby honey, what's the problem. It's Sunday tomorrow
and we thought that we could all have lunch together.”

Stephen has just asked me to spend the night, and I'm
trying to think of an excuse not to. However, one isn't forthcoming,
and it's late and I'm a long way from my Queens apartment.

I fake a smile and nod.

“
I'd love to stay, thank you Stephen. But...I don't
have any spare clothes or my toothbrush with me.”

Stephen waves it off.

“
That's fine, my dear. I'll have Nigel find you some
clothes and a toothbrush and whatever else you might need.”

“
Oh...well, brilliant then.”

It's only Tyler, still next to me, who sees that I want
to get out. He probably knows that it's because of him as well.

Stephen leaves the room and returns with Nigel.

“
Nigel here will show you to your room, Abby. Is there
anything you need before bed?”

I shake my head.

“
Then we'll call this goodnight.”

He kisses my hand again and my mom gives me a hug. Then
the two of them retire into the main hall to climb the wide staircase
to the first floor. From there, I have no idea where the mast bedroom
will be.

“
Right Miss Grace, this way.”

Nigel ushers me out of the room, but not before Tyler
has a chance to tell me to 'sleep well' with a wink and a glint in
his eye.

I can just about hear the sound of my mother's laughter
echoing from above as we climb the stairs and reach a gallery that
stretches around to the left and right, overlooking the main hall
with its fine paintings and sculptures and marble floors and high,
vaulted ceiling.

At the top of the stairs, a corridor marches both ways,
running parallel to the front of the house and leading into various
other rooms. Nigel leads me right, away from the sound of my mom's
giggles, which have now been cut off behind a closed door, and into a
guest bedroom.

It's the sort of magnificent room you'd expect in a
plush, old fashioned hotel. Large, four poster bed with curtains and
drapes. High windows that look out over the beautiful gardens at the
back, lit in places by spotlights that highlight the wonderful colors
of the flowers in magical, dream-like glows. There's a desk in the
corner, and several chairs dotted here and there.

“
Right, here we are,” says Nigel, leading me in.

He follows through into an adjoining, wonderfully fitted
bathroom with separate bath and shower facilities.

“
I'll just go fetch some clothes for you Miss Grace.
You'll find a fresh toothbrush, toothpaste, and various washing and
sanitary products in the bathroom. There are fresh towels in the
cupboard.”

After a few minutes, which I spend inspecting a
beautiful painting of a naval battle that looks something like a
Turner
, he's back. He passes me a bundle of clothes and bids
me goodnight, before shutting the door tight.

It's about midnight when I wrap myself up in the soft
bed and gaze out of the window. I leave the curtains half open, with
the silhouettes of trees visible in the distance and the light of the
moon and stars creating a soft glow that filters into the room.

It's silent here. The sort of silence that it almost
unnerving when you're not used to it.

Where I live in Queens, there's an almost endless rumble
of cars outside. Even during the dead of night, when the world is
meant to be sleeping, cars rush by intermittently, their engines
roaring.

Eventually, you get used to it, your brain adapting and
filtering the noise out so that it doesn't disturb you, as if the
general sounds of the city become a new sort of silence.

But here, it's truly, deathly quiet. So quiet I notice
the lightest ringing in my ears and the gentle pulse of my heart.

And with that silence, I drift off to sleep.

But my slumber doesn't last long. And despite the
absolute silence, I don't hear the door to my room opening, the
hinges creaking lightly. I don't hear the thud of footsteps, or the
sound of steady breathing.

The only thing I do hear, however, is the voice creeping
toward me in the darkness. And when I open my eyes, I see the shadow,
half lit by the moonlight, standing in the middle of the room.

“
Did I wake you?”

Through the haze of my sleepy eyes I blink, my heart
suddenly rushing, and see Tyler's form, adorned with nothing but a
pair of tight briefs, the cold silver light of the moon bathing his
muscles in a heavenly glow.

“
Tyler?” I croak, slightly alarmed.

“
I hope I didn't scare you?”

“
What...what are you doing here?”

He takes a pace forward, then another, walking
purposefully toward the bed.

“
You know what I'm doing here.”

He sits down on the edge of the mattress, his toned body
arching at the waist toward me. His eyes tell of a man with an
salacious appetite that few others possess. And one that needs to be
satisfied.

I don't speak as his hand drifts toward my duvet and
slowly, gently peels it off me as if he's unwrapping a gift.

I don't do anything, still caught in a half dream, and
entranced by his body, his shining hazel eyes, by the way he's
looking at me.

He reveals my body, dressed only in a simply white
nightgown that Nigel had provided me. Underneath, I'm naked, never
liking the feel of bras and panties as I sleep.

He shifts his weight forward a bit more, and his hand
rests on my leg. It slides up my shin, fingers spreading around the
knee, and continues up my fleshy thigh.

Still, I do nothing.

His fingers press a little harder as he goes, his hand
twisting and gliding up my inner thighs, closed tight together.

He coaxes them apart, and I don't stop him. I just watch
him, watch his eyes follow the path of his hand, watch them widen a
little as the fabric of my gown is lifted and the V of my crotch
revealed.

My legs open a little, and his fingers find their way
in. They tickle around my outer folds, teasing me as little darts of
pleasure shoot through me. But his face lacks that grin from before.
It seems to carry a deeper look of longing now, his focus unwavering.

I watch the shape of his boxer shorts change, the front
growing, the chained animal within starting to stiffen and stir. His
fingers slide an inch inside me, working their way around my lips as
I open my legs wider and feel the space moisten.

And still, I say nothing.

Now he's leaning even further in, gazing at my open
pussy, climbing toward it with his mouth slightly open and his
breathing beginning to intensify. His fingers slip deeper, still
exploring every inch of my vagina, as his face continues its advance.

I take a deep breath as his tongue finds my clit.

Intense rumbles of pleasure pulse through me and my
thighs squirm. His tongue works itself round and round, working in
perfect unison with his fingers, his thumb, all probing and massaging
and conspiring together to quickly bring me to orgasm.

I find the sensation so strong that that's exactly what
might happen if I don't stop him. But I don't want to. I
want...need...him to keep going.

My legs tighten and clench, my thighs closing around his
head. Light groans begin to sound, squirting out of my clamped jaw as
I try to suppress them.

I can't.

Not all of them. Squeals of joy ring around the room,
and I have to bite hard on my fist to stop from screaming louder and
waking up the entire mansion.

The convulsions that hit me make me feel like I'm having
a fit. Waves of them come, one after another, flowing through me,
bursting out from my cunt. I bite harder on my fist, feel my teeth
threatening to dig into my skin, and pray for the sensation to both
pass and keep on going at the same time.

Gradually the waters recede, and the pulses weaken, and
my taut muscles relax and drop down onto the bed.

And all Tyler does it lift his head and look at me from
behind smiling eyes.

“
Fake that one too, did you?”

Chapter Three

Tyler left my room that night straight after, leaving me
reeling and wondering what exactly had just happened.

He didn't get me to reciprocate, or climb on top and
fuck me like he did the night before. He just stood, his underwear
bulging, and left me in peace, a silence quickly dawning once again.

It took me a while to get to sleep, my body still
rushing with the thrill of his fingers and tongue. My mind could
hardly stay still, but was eventually downed by exhaustion, leaving
me at the mercy of my unconscious mind which felt it necessary to
replay the entire event over and over until I woke to the light of
the morning.

Now I'm lying down and I can feel a wetness between my
thighs, my body clearly reacting to the impure thoughts of my mind,
even in sleep.

I turn and look outside and see that the world is once
more sunny and bright. There's a chatter of birds in the air and,
away to the left of the trees, I can see the lake sparkling with a
thousand tiny waves, rippling and catching the light.

With my cell informing me that it's 9 AM, I quickly take
a shower and wash my inner thighs clean before dressing in the
clothes Nigel gave me. They don't fit – not perfectly – but are
passable and comfortable enough for me to lounge around in at least.

A strange feeling of nerves fills me as I leave the
room. Last night everything took on a funny shape, my blood poisoned
by alcohol and my head intoxicated by the wonders of the mansion and
the surrounding grounds.

Now, in the warm light of the warming, everything seems
a little clearer and more in focus, as if I've just gone from DVD to
BluRay.

Most of all, however, I'm attacked by a pervading sense
of guilt and shame at what happened when Tyler entered my room.
During the entire time he was there – which wasn't actually much
longer than 10 minutes – I didn't say a word.

I just let him explore my body until he was satisfied
and brought me to a simply fantastic orgasm. In fact, I wonder if
he'd just done it to prove a point? To show me that he could make me
come with little more than a click of his fingers.

What's most unnerving, however, is the power he clearly
has over my sexual needs. He holds the key to my lock and I'm
powerless to stop him from opening it.

I shake such thoughts from my head as I descend the
stairs, the mansion alive with activity as maids rush here and there.
Nigel passes by, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to tell me that
my mother and Mr Black are just starting breakfast out in the rear
courtyard outside the building.

I follow the same route as yesterday and appear outside
in the warm summer sunshine to find Stephen's mouth locked to my
mom's.

He stops, immediately, as I walk out, and almost looks
abashed for the first time.

“
Abby, good morning! I trust you slept well.” His
words come fast, abruptly ending the kiss with my mother.

“
Well thanks, Stephen. It's so peaceful here, so
quiet.”

“
Yes, it is. Now come, have some breakfast. The
kitchen have put on quite a spread this morning.”

I look at the table set up outside and run my eyes over
the piles of bacon, eggs, muffins, toast, and pretty much everything
I could imagine from a hearty breakfast. I serve myself from the
buffet and settle at the table with my mother, who seems to be
glowing even brighter than yesterday.