BILLIONAIRE (Part 7) (6 page)

“My
legs are sore from walking so far,” I murmured.

“Is
that right?” he said, and his grief at the thought was less pronounced now.  His
hands moved to my thighs as he continued to massage me with his thorough,
passionate touch.  I was very wet now, as he caressed the tops of my legs and
behind, to my ass, kneading gently, working me for my own pleasure.  As he
massaged, his fingers roved, parting my intimate curls with unassuming,
feather-light touches.  I loved how gentle he was, how careful, exposing me
completely.  I wanted him to see me like this: naked, open, ready.  I wanted to
live and die just like this, as his.  “How’s this?” he asked, and there was a
light smile in his voice.

“Very,
very good.”

His
touch traveled higher, stroking my stomach, moving to my breasts, which he
began to knead and gently squeeze.  I arched against his hand and he gave me
what I wanted, pinching my nipples lightly between his fingers, rolling them
and tugging them into tight, achy little pleasure-points.  My legs parted
further.  My pussy pulsed with each delicate pull as his hands expertly coaxed
the desire higher.

My
eyes were open now, my hands lightly gripping his arms.  “I thought of you all
day.  I missed you so much.  I wanted you.”

My
words affected him, I could see this.  The pain I’d caused him was written all
over his body language, from the enduring worry in his eyes to the tense set of
his shoulders.  I vowed to peel back every layer of his anxiety, to soothe it
and right it.  “I’m here now,” he said.  “I’ll do anything you want me to do. 
You should know that by now.”

I
thought he might deny me, thinking me too tired or ill.  “Anything?”

“Tell
me what you want.”

“Make
me forget everything but you.  All I want is you.”

“I’m
yours, honey girl.  All yours.  Only yours.”

“Kiss
me, Alexander.  Kiss me.  I want to feel your mouth on me.”

Alexander
didn’t hesitate.  He kneeled down, lacing my leg around his neck as he lowered
his mouth to me.  Before he touched me, he blew a light breath onto my humid,
wanting flesh.  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, blowing onto me again.  My
sex clenched with anticipation.  He was so close.  My body was greedy for him,
for the touch of his soft, hungry, perfect mouth.  “All I want to do is love
you.”

“Yes. 
Please love me, Alexander.  Please touch me.”

“How
do you want me to touch you, Lila?” he said, holding my legs open, licking a
teasing, barely-there kiss.  The touch sent a wash of deep, electric heat into
my belly.  “Like this?”

My
hands were fisted in his hair and he eased them back down to my sides.

“Relax,
honey,” he crooned.  “I promise you.  I’ll give you everything you ask for. 
Everything.  Lie back and relax.  Let me take care of you.  Let me kiss you.”

I
obeyed him, unclenching my fists, allowing him to take his time.  The loll of
the limousine’s movement calmed me further.  He must have ordered his driver to
cruise for a while.  Or else the driver had figured it out for himself.  The
outside world hardly mattered to me.  I was cocooned in the luxury my dream
lover provided.  All thoughts evaporated into feeling as Alexander’s tongue
found me, lapping gently, sending a surge of warm bliss through my sex that
just about blew my mind.  He dipped a fluttering lick into me, then touched his
tongue to my clit in a pressing caress that took me to the edge of insanity. 
“Or like this?” he said huskily.

“Yes. 
Yes.
  Like that.  Just like that.  Oh, please.”

His
slow lick was deeper, touching a sublime, unbelievably sensitive place.  The
tension in my body was laced with the sweet release I knew was coming.  The
beauty was rising up.  And Alexander’s tongue nudged blissfully against my
clit, pushing me into an orgasm so intense I cried out, rocking against him as
his tongue stayed
there
, where I needed him to be, suckling and nudging
and prolonging the ecstasy as I writhed in a feast of voluptuous, undulating
pleasure.

“That’s
my girl,” he said.  “That’s my Lila.  I’m going to make you feel so good you’ll
never want to run from me again.”

Through
the lingering waves of my climax, his comment struck a chord.  I didn’t ever
want to run from Alexander again.  Now that he understood what drove me and
what scared me, I hoped I would never, ever need to.  “Alexander,” I whispered,
tugging at his shirt.  “Come here.”

He
kissed my still-pulsing nub once more, nuzzling gently before lifting himself
up with his arms to lay his big body gently over mine, barely touching me with
his weight.  Even the light pressure gave me every clue as to the state of his
arousal.  I wrapped my arms and legs around him, preventing any retreat.  I
kissed his mouth.  Once I might have cared that I could taste myself, but not
now.  I wanted everything that had to do with Alexander.  His rigid length
pressed against my stomach as I pulled him closer.  “You need to rest now,” he
said.  “Are you ready for me to take you home?”

“Not
yet.”  I kissed his remarkable face and unwrapped my arms from his neck,
unbuttoning his shirt to feel the sculpted planes of his chest.

He
covered my forehead once again with his palm.  “You do feel a little feverish
–”

My
fingers slid under the waistband of his jeans, circling the rock-hard width of
him, squeezing as my other hand unzipped his pants to release him.  “I’m
feverish with desire for my knight in shining armor.  I need you so much.  I
want to feel you inside me.  You said you’d give me whatever I want.  And I
want
this
…”  I squeezed him more tightly, stroking him from root to tip
until he groaned and hardened even further.  I pushed his jeans down his lean
hips, positioning him, guiding him to my slippery center, pushing the head of
his cock into me.  “…
here
.”

“Damn
it, Lila,” he gasped.  “Fuck.  I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“You
are taking care of me.  Just like I want.”  I wrapped my legs tighter around
him, levering his hips towards me until he slid deeper, possessing me inch by
ecstatic inch.  God, he felt good.  The tiny muscles deep inside me clenched
and spasmed, tightening around him in welcoming ripples.

“
Oh,
fuck, Lila.  Oh, God
.”  His voice was so rasped it was almost
unrecognizable.  “I only wanted to keep you safe.  Physically safe and
emotionally safe, too.  I never meant to hurt you, or scare you.  I’m so
fucking sorry.  I love you so much.  Too much.”  Alexander’s eyes were shiny
with remorse.  I was amazed to feel the drop of a tear on my cheek. 
His
tear. 
His eyes were bloodshot, framed by those long, thick lashes.

Alexander. 
My Alexander.  I couldn’t bear his pain.  And I couldn’t believe I had touched
him so deeply and so completely.  My hands moved to his hips, to the hard,
flexed muscles of his backside.  I pulled him closer, until he was filling me,
thickly and entirely.  My body was cradling his, fluttering around him in a
tight, wet, connective bond.  Involuntarily, my muscles clenched around him as
though to draw him further into me as I took his face between my hands.  I felt
his torment as if it was my own, deep inside my heart.  “Look at me, Alexander.” 
He did, and I felt the sting of my own tears.  “You didn’t know.  I never told
you that part.  It’s over now, and we’re here, together.”

“I
can’t lose you.  I thought I’d lost you.”

“You
couldn’t lose me if you tried,” I told him.  “You’re mine.  I need you too
much.”

“You’ve
touched me, angel,” he said, thrusting into my clasping depths, “like I’ve
never been touched.  I’m crazy for you.  Crazy in love with you. 
Crazy
.”

I
kissed him and kissed him again.  My legs were wrapped around his hips, my sex
pulsing around his deeply-insinuated flesh in receiving, rippling embraces.  “I
love you,” I whispered, looking into his eyes as the tears ran in tickling
tracks down my temples.  “I love you.”

He
rolled his hips as he plunged into me, stirring his big, heavy cock into my melting
depths.  I was coming.  I don’t think I’d
stopped
coming.  His thickness
pushed the ecstasy into me in powerful drives until the rhythmic bliss erupted
in starry overload.  The orgasm was an all-soul experience, as spiritual as it
was physical.  Our gazes held as I came, as my pussy clamped violently around
his glorious, coercive bulk.

“My
honey girl,” he whispered in a rasped groan before the heated waves had
entirely subsided.  “Come again with me.”

Alexander
cupped my ass and angled my hips, thrusting his cock as deeply into me as I
could take him, pressing strongly against my womb.  He nuzzled his face into my
neck, biting me softly, marking me as he possessed me.  With his cock he
skillfully stroked that sensitive place inside me, the slippery friction taking
me to the very brink.  I tried to hold on, to stave off the rising peak.  But
he was relentless, tireless, forcing the rapture with his plunging insistence. 
“Oh, Alexander.  Come with me.  Oh, God.  Stay with me.”

“I’m
with you, honey girl,” he gasped against my throat, “I’m with you.”

We
set each other off: the heavy, milking grip of my inner muscles was compelled
and compounded by the jetting jolts of his thick, spasming cock as it plunged
and slid.  I bit Alexander’s shoulder as he growled his tortured pleasure
against my neck.  We bucked and writhed and rode that pleasure as far as it
would take us.  And we lay like that, moistly locked and wholly immersed, for a
long time, looking into each other’s eyes, our hair and limbs tangled, our
bodies replete, humming and alive, amazed, entranced, utterly in love.

$

Alexander
took me home.  That’s what he called it and that’s what it felt like to me now:
home.  As he promised, he ran me a bath in the Jacuzzi, he pampered me, he fed
me.  And he let me rest.

And
then he made love to me again, and again, as I asked him to do.  I coerced him
and I willingly succumbed to him.  As equals.  As lovers.  And two damaged
souls, hinged together by our jagged edges.

On
Sunday, we were eating a lunch prepared for us by Claude, who I couldn’t help
notice was sporting a very expensive-looking new Rolex.  He’d served us, then
promptly disappeared.

Alexander’s
doorbell buzzed.

“A
delivery, sir,” came the voice over the intercom.  “From Barneys.”

“Send
it up,” Alexander replied.

A
man delivered two large boxes, gift wrapped, and one smaller one.  Alexander
tipped him with a hundred dollar bill, and the man thanked him profusely before
taking his leave.

Alexander
turned to me, leaning one bare, toned shoulder against the wall, his hands
slung into the pockets of his low-slung jeans.  My hands had wreaked havoc on
his black, too-long hair and he needed a shave.  His olive skin emphasized the
whiteness of his teeth as he smiled.  Damn, the man was gorgeous, like a badboy
pirate who’d taken a break from the high seas to wrangle a couple of boardroom
deals before the next ship took sail.  “For you,” he said.  “Open them.”

“Alexander,
I’ve already told you: you don’t need to buy me things,” I began, but my
protests sounded futile even to me.  He could buy me anything he wanted, we
both knew that.  And I had a feeling I knew what these gifts were. 
Replacements, for the things I’d lost during my meltdown.

A
new coat, identical to the one I’d left behind at that distant, hazy restaurant. 
And a new pair of Balenciaga boots, like the ones I’d ruined schlepping through
the pouring rain, lost, alone, afraid.

I
looked up at him, overwhelmed, so very grateful.  “Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome,” he smiled.  “There’s another one.”

“What’s
this one?”  I unwrapped the third, smaller package, gasping when I saw the
dress.  A white dress, made of fine cotton, frilly but not overly so.  Feminine
and incredibly well-made.  A modern take on a peasant dress, short and
flattering.  “It’s beautiful.”

“Put
it on.”

I
shrugged off the robe I was wearing – Alexander’s, not Jake’s – and slipped the
dress over my head.  I twirled for him, smiling, feeling happier than I could
ever remember feeling.  I pulled on the boots and put on the coat, standing in
front of him.  “There.”

He
contemplated me for a few seconds.  “There’s something missing,” he said.

“What’s
missing?  That’s everything.”

Alexander
took a small, velvet box out of each of his pockets.  One was pink and the
other was blue.  He held them out to me, balancing them on his upturned palms. 
“Pick one.”

I
looked at him warily.  “Alexander.”

“Lila,”
he replied, smiling widely.

“What’s
this?”

He
took a step closer.  “I guess you’ll have to open them and find out.”

I
hesitated, but his smile was infectious.  I reached for the blue box, but he
withdrew it as I reached for it.  “Take the pink one first.”

Watching
his face, I took the pink box.  Tentatively, I opened it.  “A gold key,” I
said, my observation tipped with a light question.