Billionaire Romance: The Billionaire's Secrets (Alpha Billionaire Romance Book 1)

The Billionnaire’s Secret

Alpha Billionaire romance book 1

Danielle Fin

©
Copyright 2015 by Danielle Fin - All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events are entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously.

- From a Declaration of Principles which was accepted and approved equally by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

The trademarks that are used are without any consent, and the publication of the trademark is without permission or backing by the trademark owner. All trademarks and brands within this book are for clarifying purposes only and are owned by the owners themselves, not affiliated with this document.

Chapter 1: Last Night

Chapter 2: Return to Home

Chapter 3: A Happy Accident

Chapter 4: Canteen Coffee

Chapter 5: Gilded Cage

Chapter 6: A Desert Date

Chapter 7: Trouble in Paradise

Chapter 8: Caught in Love

Chapter 9: Confrontation & Confusion

Chapter 10: Confessions

Chapter 11: Lies Uncovered

Chapter 12: Road to Home

Conclusion

In the dimly lit and hallowed halls of a dormitory in Oxford University, no one questioned the moans of pleasure that echoed in the walls of the Residential Wing. Neither the students and staff nor the body guards paid attention to the almost familiar sounds that come from the Prince’s private rooms. No woman has been able to resist the allure of the exotic features, the suave appeal and of course the godlike body of the Prince.

It was not a typical Oxford dorm room, instead of textbooks, there were stacks of magazines with pictures of naked women. Instead of laptops with research files, there were pornographic movies of every sort of taboo and fetish. Instead of a roommate, there were two reputable college women, servicing the Prince.

Sitting naked in his bed, the Prince spread his legs so that his Philosophy classmate can use her left hand to play with his neatly trimmed scrotum and her right hand to rub his rock hard penis while her head bobbed up and down his manhood. Her white skin and red lips contrasted with his dark pubic hair.

Sitting beside the Prince was another student from another class, he cannot remember which one. But the Prince did remember that this girl has the perkiest set of breasts that he has seen among the more prudish student population. It is these set of brown breasts that he was now sucking one breast after another, while his hand fondled her already damp vagina. For some reason, the Prince began to get bored, it was the same scene over and over again and the blood seemed to flow out of his member. The girls, sensing his lack of interest, decided that they cannot waste the opportunity to be pleasured by the infamous Arab Prince.

As if on cue, both girls stood up and began to gently kiss each other and touch each other’s breasts. They locked their bodies together and then grind their hips in a sensual dance. They looked seductively at the Prince and saw that their exhibition has achieved its objective. The Prince’s rod was now furiously leaking in anticipation. He began to play with himself and when the girls attempted to come to him, he stopped them and told them to continue.

He watched as his bookish and studious classmates now paraded their bodies in front of him. He knew that they will do everything and anything he wanted in exchange of being pleasured by a Prince. He wanted to check the limits of his seduction and the girls’ lust.

“You,” he said to the pale skinned and red haired woman, “give it to her like a man. And you, take it like a submissive woman.”

“What? I don’t know what you mean?” asked one of the girls.

“Use your fingers, pleasure her like a man would do.”

The red hair hesitated but the brown skinned woman whispered,

“It’s alright. I can take it. I’ll do everything just to get him in bed.”

The red hair moved her hands towards the quivering hips of the other girl but the Prince stopped her,

“Give me your finger.” With that the Prince swallowed the girl’s fingers and swirled his lips around the finger while inside his mouth. The girl twitched with pleasure and then she felt that the Prince now brought her finger and then gently penetrated the other girl. The other girl writhed with the warm and wet finger that entered her womanhood. The Prince then moved the finger in and out, making the other girl drown in ecstasy.

Now in the mood and in control, the Prince stood behind the red hair. He used his foot to spread her legs apart. He then whispered near the girl’ ears,

“Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Take me please. Make love to me please.”

With that, the Prince bended his knees so he can lower himself and his throbbing penis beneath the waiting vagina of the red hair. With a sudden thrust, he penetrated the girl and he thrusted himself again and again while still holding her fingers as he pushed in and out of the other girl. Now the three were synchronized, they were taking waves after waves of pleasure. The Prince stood on his toes pushing himself further up and further inside the girl. The other girl complained,

“Please, I’m about to come. I need to come with you inside me.”

The Prince was generous. He pulled himself away and then pushed the red hair away. With his thick arms and broad chest, he lifted the other girl on her butt. Instinctively, the girl wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and her arms around his neck. She lowered herself on his penis and then gyrated for both their pleasures. Both women were amazed at how the Prince can carry the girl without any support but when they saw his thick thighs, they knew that he had the strength to sustain him all throughout the night.

“Oh my God, harder, harder. I’m coming,” said the girl as she stood suspended in the Prince’s embrace. Without stopping, the Prince thrusted harder and faster than ever until the girl moaned so loud that one of the Prince’s stoic guards allowed a smile on his face.

Now that the other girl was finished, it was the red hair’s turn. Without missing a beat, the Prince pushed the red hair towards the bed. With the red hair lying on her back, the Prince stretched her arms above her head and then attacked her neck with furious kisses and bites. As he did that, he lowered himself and then pushed himself deep inside the woman. As he pumped up and down, he felt that the other girl was now embracing him from behind and massaging her breasts against his back. Sandwiched in between two girls, the Prince’s lust brought him closer to the edge.

Both the women felt that his rhythm became faster and more erratic, they knew he was about to come. The red hair already came without the Prince knowing and they were anxiously waiting for him to climax. The Prince, more than capable of prolonging himself, thought of doing just that but the women had other plans. The girl on top of him reached down to his ass, she began to put pressure in the flesh in between his balls and his anus. It sent shivers from his penis to his spine.

Momentarily, his entire body was filled with a demanding urge to release and he

lost control. He reached orgasm and pulled himself out of the girl beneath him. He spilled his seed on the girl’s chest. He released one after another and then the girl behind him eagerly lay beside the red hair. The Prince turned a bit so the girl can also partake of his seed on her own body.

The lying girls marveled at the sight of the Prince. With sweat glistening from his skin, his muscles now pumped because of the vigorous sex, and his manhood, though spent, was still hard and leaking, the Prince looked every bit the man of their fantasies. The Prince broke the post coital daze of all the women he slept with illionthat he had grown accustomed to,

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Both of you, get out.”

The women left and the Prince was once again alone. He breathed a sigh of relief, he will not be alone anymore. It was his last night in Oxford, his last night in exile and tomorrow will be his first day back home.

Under the sweltering heat of the July sun, the locals, tourists and other pedestrians of Bahrain’s capital, Manama, failed to notice the tall, olive skinned and well-dressed man that walked amongst them. With his eyes shielded by dark sunglasses that hid his piercing brown eyes and long eyelashes and a light almost sheer white shirt and comfortable khaki pants covering his wide shoulder, muscular chest and thick thighs, the unassuming man strode quietly but confidently along the streets that he only knew from a distant memory.

Behind the man and less inconspicuous than him were two black suited men, who followed the man from a distance. Their demeanor and the noticeable earpiece and cord that stuck out from their collars made it obvious that these were bodyguards. However it was neither their suits nor the partially visible gun holster in their shoulders that gave them away but the red and white embroidered patch on their right chest.

The foreigners were very much aware of the patch, it was a shield surrounded with red and white leaves the coat of arms of the royal family of Bahrain, the Al Khalifas. But only the locals noticed the additional filigrees below the shield, four lines to be exact and a coronet. This means that these bodyguards are under the direct employ of the King, hence the coronet and the four lines could only mean one thing, Isa was nearby.

Isa Bin Ahmed Al Khalifa, the 31 year old Prince of Bahrain, eldest son of the King, fourth in line to the throne on account that his mother is only the second of the King’s wives. Rumors swirled from the common citizens to the socialites and elites of the country, Isa was to be recalled from an unofficial exile of more than 10 years. Everybody waited in anticipation for his return, each had a morbid curiosity of what the prodigal son of the Al Khalifa family will behave or look like after a decade.

The country only remembered a rebellious and spoiled brat just out of his teens but still behaved like one. Back then, he was lean with almost gaunt facial features. Rarely pictured with the core family members, his face was only seen in online pictures taken by partygoers, who could not resist the temptation of taking a shot of the prince during disgraceful situations. The online pictures were immediately removed 2 to 3 days by the ever watchful eye of the Royal Secretariat.

Officially, he was sent for further studies in Oxford but everybody knew that it was code for banishment. From using drugs, to defiling a mosque, to fathering an unwanted child, several versions of the reason for his exile were known, of course no one knew except for the innermost circles of the Royal Family and of course Isa himself.

As he walked in one of the busiest streets of Manama, Isa relished at the anonymity that he has enjoyed for more than 10 years abroad. Back at Oxford, nobody cared who he was and most importantly nobody knew his dark past. Other students at his class assumed that he was a son of another rich oil tycoon from the Middle East; at first nobody suspected that he was the exiled prince of the one of the richest kingdoms in the region. But when his identity was made known, almost every enterprising woman and even some men, tried to get in bed with him.

Now his years in Oxford are over and he is afraid that his freedom is also gone with it. Distant cousins repeatedly lobbied for his return but for years they were unsuccessful. Suddenly and without warning, members of the Bahraini consulate were at his doors and announced his summons to the Kingdom.

He was barely out of one of the family’s private jets when he was immediately escorted by the same two bodyguards that walked behind him. He was supposed to meet immediately with his father at Gudaibiya, one the royal palaces, but due to an emergency meeting with a foreign dignitary, meeting his father for the first after a decade was postponed for another day. Deciding to walk the streets of the city he once called home, he was genuinely puzzled why nobody seemed to notice him, neither the judgmental traditionalists who criticized his youth nor the progressive citizens, who once fawned over the bad boy of the royal family.

The answer to the puzzle was right in front of Isa, in his reflection against the mirrored displays of a luxury boutique in the central business district. Much has changed since his exile; he was no longer the 21 year old boy that was spoiled by the fortunes and privilege of his money. Instead of the gaunt, disheveled and socially awkward look he had before, he is now completely different. Standing at 6 feet, he towered taller than most people around him. He has a solid frame, chiseled by his active lifestyle in sports, particularly football and his favorite hobby, sailing solo in the open seas. He removed his sunglasses and even at this distance from the mirror, he can see the thick eyebrows and long double eyelashes that are distinct to his family. His face was well groomed and accentuated the high cheekbones and dimpled chin that made him instantly recognizable from his other brothers.

Isa has changed to comfortable clothes for the noontime walk but the accessories he wore betrayed his fortunes. On his wrist was a bejeweled Patek Philippe watch, one of the gifts from his father on one of his birthdays and on the other a solid platinum one of a kind Cartier bracelet given to him by his now deceased mother. Despite being in exile, he had access to a small fortune regularly replenished by the Crown Funds and he was able to maintain the lifestyle he was accustomed to. But all of the luxuries he wore now paled in comparison to the plain ring that he wore on his right ring finger. It was a ring given his father which he received a few days ago before his flight to Bahrain.

During the early years of his exile, he spent as much as he could and continued the lifestyle that exiled him in the first place. He knew the company of women from all countries and colors and in some cases the company of more than woman at one time, he sampled drugs that were only found in the UK and all sorts of misdemeanors but he never repeated the one thing that led his father to exile him.  But the discipline in Oxford and the reality of the world changed him forever.

He walked inside a Burberry boutique, a familiar sight when he was still in the United Kingdom. He perused through the items and bought a few. The snobbish sales person asked him where he wanted the items to be delivered and he hesitated for a moment. He still had no address here in Manama or even in Bahrain. He was not even sure where his father will let him stay. He had more than enough for him to have the best penthouse in Manama or rent a villa in the outskirts. He can go anywhere actually except for one place, his home not until his father permitted him. He could not even go to his brothers’ residences. He may already be in Manama but without the express permission of his father, he is still shunned by his family. He was about to give a hotel address to the sales person but one of his bodyguards suddenly approached him.

“Your Highness, we are summoned back.”

“Good. To Gudaibiya then.”

“No Your Highness, RBH.”

“RBH?”

“The hospital Your Highness, the Royal Bahrain Hospital.”

Isa knew exactly why he was asked to return from exile.