Taken by the Billionaire (5 page)

I stared out the window silently, thinking over his offer as I watched the streetlight streak past.

“Or I could just drop you off at your apartment with the promise that I’ll pay for your tombstone. Your call,” he said, glibly reiterating the morbid first option.

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice, did you?”

“No... but I am feeling nice and thought you could use the extra hazard pay,” he answered, and then he winked again.

No kidding,
I thought, and I rubbed my aching ribs.

****

“Champagne, Miss?” asked the flight attendant from over my shoulder.

“Yes, please. Thank you,” I answered as my ears popped for the fifth time. My lesson of the day was that international flights took a damned long time to reach cruising altitude.

The prim and proper flight attendant poured me a second glass of the bubbling beverage, and I took a sip before leaning back in my comfortable seat.

I had never been into the mythical realm of “International First Class” before, and I had to admit: it had already exceeded my expectations. Dinner had been warm, filling, and positively delicious, the flight attendant friendly and professional, and the accommodations more than comfortable.

The first-class section of the plane wasn’t so much an airplane cabin as it was an airborne lounge. The seats folded out into long, luxurious sofa beds, and there was so much leg-room that even if I stretched out as far as I could, I still couldn’t reach the other row of seats.

“Can I get you anything else, Mister Ibramovic?” asked the attendant. I glanced at Peter, who was sitting in the seat to my right.

“No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Given the unusual circumstances of your flight, is there anything else we can offer you assistance with?” asked the attendant courteously. She had probably read the passenger list and noticed just how much it deviated from reality, I assumed.

“No... it’s a long flight, and we’re exhausted, so just stay out of our hair and let us sleep,” he answered, smiling tiredly.

The attendant bowed politely, shut off the cabin lights, and tied off the curtains behind her as she retreated toward Economy Class.

I sighed and stretched my legs out again, and as I sat back in my seat, I noticed that Peter was staring at me.

I stared right back at him and dared him to blink first. Two could play at this game.

How the hell does he stay so composed this late at night?
I wondered as I stared at him. His suit still looked clean and pressed, while mine were dirty, wrinkled, and probably pretty smelly too. When I’d gone to the lavatory before take-off, I’d noticed a huge oil stain on the back of my white blouse from falling down in the garage, too.

Long story short, I was a mess, and he looked like he’d just arrived at the office!

It’s just not fair,
I thought.
He’s smoking hot even after being shot at all day.

My eyes were starting to water, and just as I thought I was going to have to give in, Peter blinked and then burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing really,” he said between giggles, and he smiled and leaned toward me as he regained his composure.

“I just love it when you assert yourself like that,” he whispered in my ear.

“When I what?” I asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow and staring at him like he had two heads.

“Like when you started yelling at me in the car, or in the elevator before that,” he purred.

My mind perked up as thoughts of the elevator burst to life. I remembered the tingle on my skin as he touched me, as he pushed me into the corner of the elevator and lifted me up against the railing...

“You are strong-willed, Sarah,” he whispered again, but now his voice had a new edge to it. There was a sharpness to it—a hint of growing desire—and I knew exactly what I was hearing when he delicately touched my cheek with one finger and traced a line down and along the curve of my neck.

“You’re a strong woman, and that’s what I love about you,” he continued quietly. “It makes me want to fight back against you, to claim you and bend you to my own desire.”

His voice sent a tingle from my ear all the way down my spine. It was like we were alone in the meeting room again, and he was just about to push me down on the table and take me. Just thinking about it was turning me on, and I felt my face flush as he kissed me softly on my neck.

Peter took my hand in his and slid it off the dividing armrest between us and down onto his lap. My breath caught in my throat and I tensed up for one brief instant as he pressed my hand firmly against the growing bulge in his trousers. He was as hard as a rock and seemed to be getting harder all the time.

“I want you again, Sarah, and I want you my way this time,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. I felt my pulse quicken as he leaned down and again sent a line of hot kisses down the curve of my neck.

What did he mean, his way? What was he talking about? As far as I could tell, it had all been his way so far. Damned if I didn’t love every second of it, but he’d hardly been wanting for input on it! Which way did he think was his? I wanted to know. I was getting more and more turned on as I remembered all the delightfully dirty things he’d whispered in the elevator—all the different ways he’d wanted to fuck me—and I wondered which one he was talking about.

Whichever way he meant, the idea of fulfilling both of our fantasies while thirty-thousand feet up in the air only made it seem even more scandalous.

Peter lifted the arm rest between our chairs and scooted over closer to me. My heart pounded in my chest as I felt his leg press against mine and his arm wrap around my waist, drawing me close. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the strange and wonderful tingle as his lips found mine. My body was starting to get hot, and my breathing quickened as he ran his hands slowly up my back.

“Turn around, Sarah,” he whispered when our lips finally separated again.

I turned and faced away from him, toward the edge of the plane. What was he planning? Why did he want me facing away from him? In a blink of an eye, my mind created hundreds of steamy possibilities, each more amazing than the one before it, and I had to pull myself back down to reality as excitement and anticipation threatened to sweep me away.

I shivered and let out a quiet giggle as I felt his breath against the back of my neck. His lips brushed delicately against my skin as he left a trail of soft kisses from the collar of my blouse all the way up to the base of my scalp. Exquisite, glorious tingles ran up my neck and bounced from hair to hair all the way around to my forehead as he kissed me.

Peter began to massage my shoulders, loosening up my stiff muscles with his strong hands, and I wanted to melt into him. Somehow, he was mixing the relaxing pleasure of a fantastic massage with a hint of passion, and I couldn’t think of a better combination of feelings in the world. At least, not at the moment I couldn’t.

He ran his hands firmly down my back, skipped lightly over my bra strap with his massage, and then stopped at the small of my back. Peter slid his hands along my body, reminding my hips how much he’d liked grabbing them earlier, and then worked his way back up my sides. I couldn’t help but sigh as a wave of wonderful pleasure followed behind his fingers, finally catching up to them when they stopped just beneath the underwire of my bra.

He released me for a brief moment to move his hands up to my neck again, and I moaned softly as he ran gentle fingers through my hair and set the nerves of my scalp on fire. Then, Peter quickly ran his hands down my shoulders and arms, took me by the wrists, and pulled my arms firmly but comfortably behind my back.

I felt a spurt of panic well up inside me—quickly melting away into excitement—as I felt him begin to wrap a soft, fabric strap around my wrists. I glanced over my shoulder to see what he was doing, and he looked up and winked at me before returning his attention to the Velcro strap from the first-class pillows with which he was binding my wrists. He looped the strap around and around, weaving in and out around my wrists, and quickly constructed an elaborate but surprisingly comfortable restraint.

I tried to wriggle my hands free as he folded the last length of Velcro over itself, but the strap held tightly around my wrists with the catch just out of reach of my fingers.

Peter pulled me across the seat by the shoulders and adjusted himself so that I was sitting in between his legs in the middle of the seat. He pulled me close to him, pressing his strong chest against my back, and I could feel his erection, hard and stiff against my bound hands. My mind felt like it was going to melt into a glorious, pleasure-filled jelly as he kissed me from behind, first on the cheek and then harder on the neck, and I let out a quiet groan as his hands found my breasts through my blouse. He gave them one soft squeeze and then let his hands rest just below them, so close and yet not quite touching. Somehow, the anticipation of him grabbing me again, fondling me, kneading and squeezing me with those heavenly hands of his was nearly as erotic as the actual act. I wanted so badly for him to set my skin on fire again with his touch, and my longing woke up more about me than just my imagination; my poor underwear was getting wet for the third time today!

“Careful now, Sarah... you could get yourself into a lot of trouble now,” he whispered as he slowly unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse.

“What? How?” I asked breathily, panting in excitement and trembling as he slowly undressed me.

“We’re the only passengers in First Class... but there’s a whole plane load of people back in Economy,” he purred deviously. “You wouldn’t want to let them hear you, would you? “

The last button of my blouse came free, and he slowly slid the shirt off my shoulders and down my smooth, white arms until it lay bunched up around my tied wrists.

“Oh you little
fucker
...”

Another glorious, instinctive shiver ran through my body as he grabbed my breasts from behind and began to fondle me through my sheer, white bra. This was not what I’d expected at all, and I didn’t know if I was up for the challenge. Back in the conference call, he’d had me wrapped around his finger—sometimes literally—and screaming in ecstasy all afternoon long! Could I really hold myself back now, especially given how excited I was already? Just the idea of him taking me in secret, with a hundred unsuspecting passengers mere feet away from us, was enough to drive me wild.

I resisted the urge to moan as he fondled me with both hands—each one sending little pulses of sensation trickling through my body and pooling between my legs—but a little gasp still made it out through my lips. He released me with one hand, and then I felt his fingers brush against my back as he deftly unhooked my bra.

One hand lifted the bra up and over my head so that it could slide down my arms and join my blouse while the other hand slowly, torturously slid down my belly toward my skirt.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make you scream, Sarah,” he whispered into my ear. “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before, and if you make a sound, everyone will know.”

I wanted to whimper in delight at his voice in my ear. The words were amazing, but even better was the tone. I was the center of his world right now—the focus of his desires—and something about his voice was pure sex to me. It dripped with animal desire and ignited a competing desire in my body as well.

Peter’s hand against my bare right breast sent waves of fiery pleasure through me, and I trembled as the desire to moan in delight built up inside me. His other hunted down the waist-clasp and zipper to my skirt, and a moment later, the skirt was on the floor halfway across the first-class compartment.

My lips quivered, desperately trying to hold in the pleasures that wanted to escape through them as he took my breasts in his soft, smooth hands again. His every touch was like magic against my skin, and I couldn’t help but squirm and writhe as he drove me wild, kneading my breasts and swirling his fingers around my nipples as he sent agonizing pleasures arcing through my body. I wanted to cry out and let myself go wild in his arms. I wanted to feel him deep inside me, taking me for all I was worth as I screamed in ecstasy, but I couldn’t dare scream. I’d have a very confused flight attendant paying me a visit if I did, and I wasn’t exactly dressed for company right now. My wrists had more clothing than the rest of my body all totaled.

Peter released my breasts from his torturous grasp and ran one hand down between my legs. I could feel my panties clinging to me as his fingers slowly, deviously explored between my lips through the thin, wet fabric. My underwear had seen more than its fair share of wetness today already, I thought as a haze of wondrous sensations made its way up my body and began to cloud my mind.

The chair began to vibrate beneath me, and I lifted my legs as my seat slowly extended outward and converted itself into a bed. Peter pressed the button for his own chair next, and his own bed emerged alongside mine shortly after.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look, Sarah?” he whispered in my ear as he cupped my breasts and pulled me down on the bed, lying on my side next to him. “You’re so wet, your body so pliant and eager to please, that it makes me want to just fuck you right now.”

My body shook in anticipation, and I couldn’t help but let out a weak whimper as he lifted my leg up in the air with one hand and slid the other beneath my panties. His fingers flitted delicately up and down over my soaking wet lips, and his touch set my skin on fire and made my trembling even stronger. Every ounce of amazing torture—each glorious moment of torment—built up inside me like a tsunami, growing bigger and bigger with each incredible flick of his fingers against my clit, and I knew that soon it was going to crash down on top of me and drown me in ecstasy.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Sarah? Are you ready for me?” asked Peter, and he released me from his throes and unbuttoned his own trousers.

“Oh God yes,” I whimpered. I wanted him like nothing and nobody else.

“I hope you’re not as loud as you were in the elevator,” he growled in my ear, “or you’re going to have one hell of an audience up here to see how much fun you’re having.”