Romance: What The Billionaire Wants (2 page)

Chapter 3

The cab trip seems to take forever and I wonder if the red lights see me coming and flash in greeting, stopping me at every intersection.

I pullout my compact in the dim light and inspect my reflection.

My blue eyes are too wide, my cheeks flushed.

As best I can, I finger comb my long chestnut brown hair so it flows in silky waves over my shoulders.

I never really thought too much about how I looked, something that became very apparent when I moved to L.A. where everyone is obsessed with their perfect appearance.

I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful and nobody would ever call me skinny.

But my skin has always been clear and creamy and men have always admired my curves, which appear in all the right places. I eat well, I go to the gym a few days a week but I’m not obsessional about either.

Now as I stare at my reflection I wonder if that was a mistake.

L.A. is full of beautiful, glamorous women. Sometimes walking down the street feels like I’m walking amongst a parade of catwalk models.

So why would a successful and handsome man want me?

The cab pulls up outside the Four Seasons and a well-dressed man opens my door.

I thank the driver and allow the man to help me out. “Room number, ma’am?”

“281,” I say with confidence.

Politely, he ushers me through the double doors and into a huge foyer.

It’s quiet, not surprising considering how late it is, and the man leads me towards a set of elevators, in what feels like seconds he gently shoves me into the golden box and I’m alone.

I stare blankly at my reflection, not seeing myself, but rather, a stranger. Who is this woman, arriving at the beck and call of a wealthy stranger?

The doors slide open and I step into a silent hallway.

It’s not till the doors close behind me and I’m standing in the hall that I realize there had been music playing and now the silence is yawning all around me.

Maybe it’s not too late.

I can just turn around and be gone before he even knows I was here…

But just as I turn, a door opens a few steps away and my stranger steps out.

Oh my.

He’s breathtaking.

His jacket and vest are gone, as is the tie, and his crisp white shirt is unbuttoned at the top. His shoes are gone too and he stands barefoot in his black slacks on the plush carpeted floor.

Was I planning to leave?

Why would I even consider leaving?

I walk towards him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, each step bringing me closer to this stranger who’s making me do things I’d usually never do.

He holds his hand out and I take it, letting him pull me into the room and over the point of no return.

My heart is pounding like crazy as I walk inside the enormous hotel room.

“Are you thirsty? I have wine.”

His voice is deep, huskier then I remember—but it vibrates through me and I shake my head.

“No thank you,” I say nervously.

I stand staring at the man, unsure of what to do next.

What do I do?

My body is a flood of fear, nerves and excitement.

This is it.

This is my chance to be wild.

Do something crazy.

Own the moment.

I have only come here for one reason and he knows it.

I need to own this moment.

Taking a large gulp, I start unbuttoning my blouse, and unzipping my skirt. For the barest second his eyes widen, then darken and he pulls at his own shirt, grabbing my hand and pulling me roughly against his larger body.

I was right, he dwarfs me with his size, and his strength is almost scary.

If I weren’t here by choice, there would be no escape.

That thought alone sends a shiver of dark excitement down my spine.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he says, pulling me backwards towards the slightly open door behind him.

“Still not sure,” I say smartly and we both let out a surprised laugh and a little of the tension dissipates.

My hands move back to my blouse, undoing the last few buttons but he stops me, curling his fingers around my wrists and staring into my eyes.

“Tell me your name,” he says, pulling me closer.

I close the distance, smoothing my hands up his hard stomach, chest, shoulders and finally pulling his face down.

Our mouths are so close I can feel our mutual desire sparking between us.

I feel his breath against my lips and my heart races faster.

As I look into his eyes, my name is on the tip of my tongue.

The yearning to know his name, to say it, whisper it, purr it, is almost palpable.

But I can’t.

Names would make this mean something, knowing his name would make me care and I’m sick of caring.

I don’t want to care tonight.

I just want to feel.

I don’t want emotion.

I just want touch.

“No names,” I say before rising up on tiptoes and pressing my lips to his.

He responds to my advance immediately, his arms sliding around my middle, pulling me closer, as his mouth opens against mine.

It’s easy, natural, the way our lips move together and his tongue slides into my mouth in one sensual flick, making me moan even as he growls and pulls me closer.

He tastes of red wine and his expensive spicy cologne makes my head spin.

I’m intoxicated by him, drunk on his scent, his taste, his strong hands settling on my butt and grinding me against him.

He picks me up effortlessly and I wind my legs around his hips, my mouth never leaving his as he carries me into the dimly lit bedroom.

It’s like I’m in a dream and not for the first time I wonder who this woman is, who’s so confident and sure and – horny!

My whole body is vibrating and thrumming to the heavy beat of my heart and the dampness in my core becomes a full on flood in my panties as I grind myself against the hardness in his pants.

What must I seem like to him?

We’ve barely met, I don’t even know his name and here I am grinding against him, begging him to take me, take me now, now, now!

“Wow, woman,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of my hips. “If you keep doing that I’m going to come in my pants like a teenager.”

“Poor baby,” I coo into his ear. “Want me to stop?”

He pulls me harder against his cock and we both groan at the sweet pressure.

“I wanted to take this slower…” With a growl he throws me down on the bed and follows almost immediately, crushing me beneath his huge form.

“I need you now,” I curl my fingers around the back of his neck and look into his face, praying he understands my need to be filled…

Taken…

Claimed…

And right now.

He reaches between us and I mew as his fingers find my soaking panties.

“So wet,” he groans, then grits his teeth as he slides one long, thick finger inside me. “Ooh, babe.”

My hips jerk up and I writhe and moan as he slides that finger in and out in slow, deliberate strokes, his thumb circling my clit in a rhythm that was both mind blowing and maddeningly gentle.

“I’m a very large man,” he murmurs into my ear, his hot breath tickling my sensitive lobe. “And this pussy is very tight.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and whimper.

Nodding, I start rocking against his hand, trying desperately to increase the friction.

I don’t know who this man is or how he’s having this effect on me, but I know I’ve never been so mad with need before in my life.

“I love how responsive you are,” he rasps. “Want to wait… Need to make sure you’re ready…”

Swearing, he removes his hand from my aching pussy and rips at his pants.

I hear a button rip and the smooth slide of a zipper before his hand is replaced by something hot and thick and rock hard.

My eyes widen and I look down between us, letting out a startled squeak.

“Oh!” I look up into his face, rightly awed. “How are you not passing out right now?”

He chuckles and dips to kiss me, his mouth hot and urgent.

My fingers grip his shoulders, fingernails biting into his flesh as he rocks his hips and forces the tip of his huge cock into my suddenly very tight pussy.

My toes curl and my back arcs as he surges in and in and in, pulls back a little then in and in and… Oh!

Wow…

As my fingers dig deep into his skin, I feel like I’m losing my virginity all over again.

He’s tearing me in two but he holds himself still, his cock throbbing as my body adjusts to his size.

His mouth never stops moving over mine, his hot gasping breaths making his kissing that much more erotic.

In moments I’m kissing him right back and rocking my pelvis up against him, silently begging him to move.

“You are so incredible,” he rasps against my lips, pulling out and out before surging back in and in. “As if feeling your tight little pussy squeezing my cock isn’t heaven enough, I can’t stop kissing your mouth. You taste so sweet. Every time my lips touch yours, my dick gets harder.”

My cheeks flame but at the same time, a new rush of arousal courses through my already pulsing veins.

I raise my knees, pulling him deeper and rock against him, meeting him shuddering thrust for shuddering thrust.

Again, I can’t help musing that it’s never been like this; I’ve never felt so connected during sex.

Usually sex feels singular.

There’s kissing and touching and pleasure sharing but I always felt as though we were seeking our own pleasure, each helping the other to find their singular climax.

But this is so different.

Every time our mouths meet in urgent, breathy kisses, I feel his muscles flex, his cock throb and my own arousal spike and shivers hot and excited down my spine, up my trembling thighs.

Resting his weight on his forearms, his cups my face, holding me in place as his hips rock and thrust harder, faster.

His mouth is open wide to take in more air and his eyes mad with lust and something else, something close to surprise maybe as he stares down at my own flushed face.

The feel of his huge, surging body above me and the muscles flexing and bunching in his back is almost too much.

His black hair hangs like a curtain around us, hiding our faces from the world as we stare into each other’s eyes.

His expression shifts and something intimate and sweet shows in his almost black eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

His fingers caress my face and it brings a rush of emotion so strong I feel tears stinging my eyes.

And all at once, I’m there.

I was so lost in his eyes, in the rhythm of our perfectly joined bodies I’d forgotten that something even stronger was building.

My eyes shut, my toes curl, and I let out a shocked and delighted cry as my body suddenly tightens and floods with hot pleasure.

“Ooh yeah…” He grits between clenched teeth, his hips bucking, thrusting faster, and driving his rock hard shaft deeper, harder. “Feels – So – Good…”

Then he really begins…

He slams with a determined aggression.

His movements are primal.

He is strong.

Forceful.

Assertive.

He slams into my pussy and I scream at his power.

Oh yes…

Yes!

He is owning me like I have never been owned before.

His strength is dominant and he is thrusting with pure, lustful passion.

He yells his pleasure in a broken cry against my panting lips and every muscle in his body stiffens.

I can feel the muscles in his thighs and in his back bunching and tightening and with another yell, he collapses over me, breathing hard, his chest thumping rapidly against my own.

Yes...

It’s like he can’t stop touching me, can’t stop kissing me.

A long time after, he rolls off, pulling me with him and holding me like a beloved teddy and together our breath gets deeper, calmer and finally I feel myself sinking into darkness and blissful sleep.

Chapter 4