BILLIONAIRE (Part 2) (2 page)

As the last spasms rippled in a conjoined, fluttering denouement, I collapsed against his chest.  His hand stroked my
sweat-dampened hair and we lay quiet for several minutes, recovering from the pure potency of our lovemaking.

“You’re going to kill me,” I heard him mutter, and I climbed up his body, looking at his face, and into his eyes
.  I clenched my saturated sex around his half-softened cock, loving the feel of the warmth, the sliding wetness that dripped and spilled.

I smiled at him.  “Yes.”

We lay like that for some time, just staring into each other’s eyes, savoring the moment as our bodies remained locked in slick, rippling intimacy.  After a few minutes, he spoke.  “Do you mind if I ask you a very personal question?” he asked, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes glinting.

“What
?”

“I realize this is a question I should probably have asked you yesterday, right about the time you were
sliding your very wet, pink, virginal pussy along the biggest, baddest hard-on I’ve ever had in my life, and at my insistence.”

I smiled. 
“I doubt you could’ve stopped me, whether you insisted or not,” I said, almost shyly.  An inkling of my former inhibited self cringed fleetingly at the memory of they way I’d acted.  I climbed off of him, and his softening shaft slid free of my body.  I lay next to him.  His eyes never left me.

I felt no regret about what had happened, not at all, but I was still somewhat astounded at my brazen,
throw-caution-to-the-wind reaction to Alexander Wolfe.  Then again, I thought, as my eyes drank in every detail of his face, I knew I’d do it all over again.  Then and now.  He was irresistible, entirely too good to be true.

“I didn’t want to stop you.”  His mouth was curved in a reassuring half-smile.

“Is that what you want to ask me?” I said.  “Why I didn’t tell you I was a virgin?”

“That’s not the question I’m thinking of but n
ow that you mention it, why are –
were
– you a virgin?  You’re so beautiful, Lila.  So incredibly desirable.  Why did you wait so long?”

I didn’t answer him immediately. 
It was a long story, and one buried so deep I was often able to convince myself it had only been a long-ago dream.  Or nightmare.  Either way, there was no way I was about to dig up and lay out the disturbing details of my past.  So I gave him the updated, abridged version.  “I’ve never been that interested in sex, if you can believe that,” I told him.  “I never wanted to.  None of the men I dated seemed very attractive in that way.”  He was listening with genuine interest, so I continued.  “I was distracted by my studies.  I thought, for a while, that something might be wrong with me.  My friends were having sex. 
Everyone
was having sex.  Except me.  It just never really appealed to me.”  That was part of the reason, at least.  Not quite the whole truth and nothing but the truth but it hardly mattered now.  My hang-ups had been all but resolved by the curative potency of Alexander’s top shelf pheromones.

He was smiling widely
.  My heart almost broke at the sight of him, of his happiness.  He was absolutely stunning.  “Amazing,” he said.

“What’s amazing?”

“That you experienced such a sudden, complete transformation the minute you walked into my office.  That outfit you were wearing suggested otherwise, by the way.  You definitely caught me off guard.”

“Oh?”

“I was expecting a mousy, bespectacled she-nerd wearing plaid and comfortable shoes.”

I couldn’t
help giggling at the image.  “A few months ago, that’s what you would have been greeted with.  A very average-looking academic wearing glasses and lugging around an oversized backpack.  I have my roommate Eva to thank for my meticulous and very thorough makeover.”

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.  “No.  No way.  Even in plaid and wearing glasses, you could never, ever have been average.
  You, my lovely Lila, are anything but average.”

A squirmy dart of pleasure flickered in
my stomach. 
My lovely Lila.
  I loved the way he said my name.  And it startled me how much I
adored
the very personal pronoun he’d placed in front of it.

“So.  What’s the question, then?” I said.  “What is it you wanted to ask me?”

“You wouldn’t, by any chance, just so happen to be on the pill?” he asked.  “Just out of curiosity?”

If I’d ever had reason to contemplate even so much as one day into the future of this …
relationship
, it was right then.  The way he asked this question was not demanding, or dire.  It was true that we could have some serious consequences on our hands.  The small trace not of humor but of shared, whatever-comes-of-it reality drew me to Alexander, in an emotional sense, more strongly than I cared to admit.  We were in this together, was what he was saying.  I hadn’t exactly been worrying about what came next, but it was nice – no, more than
nice
; it was ridiculously
endearing
that he would take this approach to our possibly life-changing recklessness.  It would have been easy enough for him to usher me out the door with a polite goodbye kiss and a business card in my clenched fist, just in case.  The fact that he showed not even the slightest interest in doing this was … possibly inappropriately … kind of a turn on, if you really want to know.

“No,” I said.  “I’m not.”

“All right,” he said, not missing a beat.  I liked the sound of his voice, the deep chest-filling timbre of it and the slightest rasped, sensual edge.  “In that case, let me ask you another, even more personal question.  If you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“When, do you think, you might be expecting to get your next period?”

Okay, this
was
personal.  But, of course, he had every right to ask.  I remember thinking it, the second time he had come inside me, when he’d taken me with such beautiful aggression right there on his desk:
we were already bound
.  I don’t know why I had felt that way.  Why it had seemed so immediate and so powerful.  Or, why I hadn’t felt even remotely anxious, not even once, throughout the last thirty hours, about what might happen
tomorrow
.  I’d been entirely consumed with the now, unreservedly devoted to my own hedonistic gratification.  Obsessed with pleasuring my body with his, and his with mine.

Alexander had many powerful effects on me, one of them being this: a silent and unfounded sense of reassurance.  With him, I felt not only profoundly sensual, but also, inexplicably,
safe
.  For no apparent reason except that he exuded a protectiveness that I’d felt from the get-go.  I’d wondered, that very first time I’d laid eyes on him, if he was dangerous.  He was big enough to be dangerous, and strong enough.  His dark eyes had promised that he would do
something
with that strength, if given half an invitation.  And I had walked right into his lair/office, almost instantly resolved to invite everything he was willing to give.

Now, he was proving to me, maybe without even meaning to, that there was more to this than merely lust.  A little glow of hope fluttered in my chest, but I sup
pressed it immediately.  I wasn’t sure if I even
wanted
to hope for any kind of future with Alexander.  But I was glad that he was asking me these questions.  He was sharing the responsibility, owning it.

I thought about his question carefully and I remembered.  My cycle ran like clockwork.  It was the reason I’d agreed to go commando, I now recalled: my period wasn’t due for four more days.  Nine o’clock on Monday morning.  That’s how precise my body
clock was.

And today was Friday.

Maybe, just maybe, in the back of my mind I’d known that it was very unlikely I would get pregnant this late in my cycle.  I wondered if different timing would have curbed my enthusiasm, as far as the past day-and-a-half’s decisions or lack thereof had gone.  I doubted it.

“Monday,” I said.

His expression didn’t change but he did kiss me, very tenderly.  This time, I felt the effects of that kiss, not with my body, but with my heart.  I wasn’t sure if I liked that feeling or not.  It made me feel like my hunger had dug deeper.  Like Alexander had penetrated me not only with his sexuality, but something more.  Before I could begin to explore my feelings on that particular subject, he spoke again, interrupting my train of thought.

“Would you consider
going
on the pill?” Alexander said.

“I …” I began
, containing a small flurry of elation at the question.  If he wanted me to go on the pill, it was fairly safe to assume that he wanted to
continue
having sex with me.  “I don’t … well, I don’t have health insurance at the moment.  But I’m sure there’s a free clinic I could go to–”

“Y
ou do have health insurance now,” he interrupted, almost gruffly, as though the topic annoyed him.  “It’s part of the employment package.  I’m going to get you an appointment for Monday morning, if that works for you.  Then, if you’re game, you can start taking them immediately.” 
If you’re game. 
One thing I was sure of: when it came to Alexander, I was
game
for anything.

I already knew he was a dominant type of person.  He was
the CEO of an entire empire, after all; he had to be dominating. He was used to calling the shots, and to giving orders.  I might have felt an inkling of rebellion about his arrogant authority if it hadn’t been for one thing.  He’d just succeeded in taking full control of my health, my birth control method, my job, my accommodation and my sex life.  In one fell swoop.  But the way he’d phrased it all found me agreeing to any suggestion he made. 
If that works for you.  If you’re game. 
He was handing me the promise of money, safety, rewarding professional challenges
and
on-call multiple orgasms for the foreseeable future.  But he wasn’t assuming anything.  He was giving me the choice.  This concession seemed to suggest to me that
I
held some measure of power in this relationship, too.  Even if he, for all intents and purposes, was the bestower of all these …
gifts
, for lack of a better word, and I was the recipient and the underling, there was more to this story.  I brought out a vulnerability in Alexander, and I could feel it.  I felt it when I took him into my body, and I felt it now, as he watched my eyes.  He didn’t want to scare me away.  He wanted to lure me and hold me.  He had grown attached to me, already, as I had grown attached to him.  Strongly.  He wanted me
badly
, for now, to be with him and to stay with him.  I could see it written on his face.

As if
to prove me right, he said,  “I’m supposed to meet my brother tonight for dinner at eight o’clock,” he said.  “And I’d like you to come with me.”

I was a little surprised
when Alexander asked me to dinner with his brother.  I knew we shared a surprisingly intense attraction, even if we’d only met just over a day ago.  Our bodies were like magnets that couldn’t resist each other’s pull.  But still.  It seemed too soon, despite the whirlwind consummation of our new connection, both romantically and professionally, to be meeting his family.

“No,” I said, sitting up.  “
Thank you.  But I should get going.  My roommate probably thinks I’ve been abducted by aliens.  I’ve texted her, but she’s probably wondering what’s going on.  And besides, I don’t have anything to wear to dinner.  I’d need to go home and change.”  I’d only brought two small items of clothing with me, and in fact I was wondering where they might be located.  Probably still laying where we’d left them in Alexander’s office.  I’d spent most of my time in Alexander’s company completely naked.  “You and your brother probably have a lot to talk about.  You catch up with him, and I’ll go home and prepare myself for my new job.  I’ll see you on Monday.”  Even as I said it, I wondered: would he still want to hire me?  Maybe I’d blown the job interview by have sex with him seven times.

He snaked his arms around my waist, halting my retreat.  “It’s still early,” he said.  “I’ll take you shopping for
some new outfits.  Some evening clothes and some work clothes.  That’s also part of the employment package: a clothing allowance.”  We both knew a clothing allowance was well beyond the scope of my job description.  “Then we’ll go to dinner.  I want you to come meet my brother Jake.”

Some underlying emotion in his voice when he said his brother’s name seemed steeped with affection.
  I got the feeling Alexander and his brother were close.  And I wondered why he wanted me with him.

“Alexander –”
I began, but he pulled me back to him, mouthing my nipple, nuzzling and biting gently.

“
Please,” he whispered against my breast, biting more strongly.  Holding me with his teeth and his gripping hands.  His mouth gentled, drawing the sensitive nub of my nipple into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking in tiny rhythmic pulls.  It was a strange sensation.  Like he was feeding on me with a kind of tender adoration I had never imagined.  He was worshipping my body: that’s how it felt.  Each little pull sent a wave of some indefinable pleasure into my body.  Not lust, entirely.  I was over-satiated, if anything.  This sensation felt rare and vast and sacred.