The Billionaire's Payment (BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

The irony was that the curves didn’t come from my paternal line as most people assumed seeing mother and me together, but from my maternal grandmother whose curves had made her a famous Bollywood star in the days when voluptuous goddesses had reined supreme.

***

Jared had agreed with David that the man’s daughter would stay with him in his suite for one week.  They had shaken hands on it, but as soon as the older man had left the room, Jared had come to his senses.

He couldn’t seduce the man’s innocent daughter.

He would move the man to another of his hotels and deduct the pilfered money from the man’s salary and bonuses over the next two years.  David having to live on less than he was used to and the loss of face of being moved from the flagship hotel should be lesson enough.

Yet, Jared hadn’t called and cancelled the arrangement.  Somehow he still wanted to meet his daughter.  Why hadn’t her father ever mentioned her? And why hadn’t she attended any of the company’s functions with her parents and brothers?  He almost didn’t believe she existed.  Even her name, Shakira, sounded mythical.  It did something strange to his insides.  He needed to see her…so he could forget her.

The intercom buzzed.

He knew it could only mean one thing, but he asked anyway.  “Yes?”

“Mr Codrington, Ms Phillips is on her way up.”

“Thank you.”

As he disconnected the internal call, Jared realized his hand was trembling.  Surprised he stared at it as though it didn’t belong to him.  He hadn’t been nervous about anything in years!  The last time he had been consciously nervous was ten years ago at twenty-four when he’d had to walk into a room and convince eleven people all of whom were at least twice his age that he could successfully run a chain of hotels when they had miserably failed.  He had wanted the deal so badly, he had felt sick to his stomach.  But having conquered that challenge and won, every other since had seemed a walk in the park.

It felt good to be reminded that he was human.

His valet Ambrose answered the discreet tap on the door and she walked in hesitantly, carrying a small overnight case, her eyes downcast.

Jared had expected a slender, younger version of David’s wife, but the young woman standing uncertainly just inside the doorway was altogether quite unexpected.  He was on his feet without realizing he had left the chair.  He had given Perkins, his butler, the evening off, but Ambrose was enough of a jack-of-all-trades to fill in smoothly.  “May I take your coat, Ms Phillips?”

She nodded and allowed him to slip the non-descript brown coat she was wearing from her shoulders.

Jared felt the earth shift beneath him.

“Thank you, Ambrose,” he dismissed his valet.  “That will be all for today.”

“Thank you, sir.”  Ambrose unlocked the front door and walked through it without a backward glance—as though it had been prearranged and not the sudden whim of his employer to be left completely alone with his guest.  He knew better than to come back without being summoned.

She was wearing a gold sari—not yellow, but the colour of the precious metal—with a richly-embroidered, halter-necked top in a matching shade.  Her long hair was a shade between her father’s light brown and her mother’s lustrous jet black. Her features were also an exotic blend of the two. Her eyes, dramatically highlighted by gold eye shadow and skilfully kohl-rimmed, were dark like her mother’s and so were her arched eyebrows.  The shape of her face and her pixie nose she’d inherited from her father, though the small, turned-up feature looked better on her. The sari top covered large breasts that he would have immediately dismissed as implants on another woman, but she seemed too shy to deliberately draw that kind of attention to herself.

Breasts were Jared’s weakness.  When his mother wanted to embarrass him into doing something for her, such as attending one of her endless fund-raising charity dinners, she gently reminded him that he had breastfed until he was two years old and ruined her once firm breasts.

There was something unique and fascinating about breasts and their ability to arouse and nurture.

All Jared’s chivalrous intentions went through the door with his valet.

“Take your clothes off,” he told her softly.  “I want to look at you.”

“What?”  She raised startled dark eyes to his and he felt himself drowning in their depths.

“I want to look at you,” he repeated.  “Use my dressing room to get undressed.”

***

Chapter Three

I entered the room Jared had indicated and stood looking around me.  It was larger than my bedroom at home and filled from floor to ceiling with dark wood panelling.  Dozens of colour-coordinated shirts and suits hung from expensive wooden hangers.  T-Shirts, sweaters and undergarments were folded with such precision I wondered if they were ever worn.  Shoes so highly polished I could see my reflection in them were stacked row after row in convenient cubby holes.

All this I took in with a quick nervous glance around the room to avoid looking directly into the full length mirror in front of which I stood, trying to avoid coming face to face with myself and the decision I would make in the next minute or two.

I had come willingly, but I had come with a plan.  Unbeknown to my parents I have the key to a safety deposit box and a diamond choker that the Sultan of Brunei had given to my grandmother at the premiere of her most critically acclaimed movie.  My grandfather’s nose had been put completely out of joint and he had threatened to toss the choker into a bin.  My grandmother had kept it in a separate safety deposit box to appease him, but the day after my eighteenth birthday she had taken me to the holding company and shown me the exquisite piece of jewellery.  She’d fastened it around her throat and caressed it lovingly.  It had sunk into the folds of her lined neck, but I could have imagined her as a younger woman and how regal she must have looked in it.  Then she surprised me by placing it around my neck.  She and I always had played a game where she was queen and I was a  princess, so I raised my chin and acted like I  was royalty.  She nodded in approval, took it off and carefully re-mounted it onto its black velvet rest.  When she handed me the key and told me it was mine, I was stunned.  I started to protest, but she’d hushed me saying that on her death my mother could have every other piece of jewellery she owned, but not that one.

If I sold it I could repay the money my father owed Jared and have enough left over for the next stage of my plan.  I had come to reason with Jared, to explain matters to him and ask for his help.  Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I would take one look at him, throw my carefully thought-out plan through the window and thank God that my father had stolen his money!

Jared had become more and more elusive as his wealth had increased, until frustrated paparazzi had dubbed him ‘The Phantom Billionaire’.  He travelled around the world only in his private plane, didn’t socialize and rarely ate in public—reputedly poaching world-class chefs from top restaurants and dining in rather than out.  There had been a rumour circulating that he had suffered severe facial injuries when a truck had ploughed into his limousine on the M25 motorway a few years prior.  My father had told me that the accident had occurred, but Jared had suffered only a few superficial cuts and bruises.

I hadn’t known what to expect.  I knew that he was eleven years older and that he was tall, sandy haired and blue eyed.  I’d known nothing else.

What I found when I had lifted my eyes to meet his was a man in the very prime of his life—a real life prince who looked almost exactly like the drawing of the prince who had kissed Sleeping Beauty awake in the fairytale.

For the last five years I have felt removed from life, experiencing it at a distance, shielding myself from pleasure, fearing the pain that too often accompanied it.

I often felt as though I’m asleep.

And now like Sleeping Beauty, I’d found a prince to awaken me.

***

She re-entered the room naked but for the sari draped across one shoulder and trailing behind her.  Looking nervous, she stood a few metres away, her eyes not meeting his gaze.  Through the material Jared could see that her breasts were every bit as magnificent as he had hoped.

“Let the sari go, sweetheart.”  He was surprised at the huskiness of his voice.

Taking a deep breath, which pressed her nipples tantalizingly against the material for a brief second, she let go the end of the garment and let it slip to the floor.  With a touch of defiance, she raised her head and gazed back at him.

Jared had prepared himself for the sight of her naked breasts.  The material of the sari was almost translucent and the sides of them had peeped out tantalizingly, but naked they were simply magnificent.  Proudly defying every law of gravity, they sat on her ribcage, firm and tip tilted, like offerings to the gods.  Her nipples weren’t dark as he’d expected, but a beautiful tawny colour.

He forced his eyes downward to her stomach where a simple heart-shaped ruby lay nestled in the small hollow of her navel.  Pierced navels were commonplace.  He didn’t have a preference one way or the other, but the thought of her navel, the very source of life, hidden beneath the jewel made him want to move it aside and bury his tongue deeply into the slight indentation.

She tried to cross her legs to conceal her jet black pubic curls from him, but she was only partially successful.  He hadn’t seen pubic hair on a woman in years—not in the flesh anyway—and he found the sight oddly arousing.  He liked the women he slept with to be cleanly shaven, always worried that there could be little creatures living happily in any damp, moist, hairy environment.  He had even on occasion shaved a woman who hadn’t been cropped close enough for his liking, but he loved old porn movies and got fiercely aroused by a woman with a full thatch of pubic hair.  The sight of Shakira’s silky black hairs made the blood rush to his cock with such a fury, it left him light headed.

Yet, though his sudden erection was painful, he surprisingly didn’t feel the need to attack her like a rabid beast.

He wanted to press sweet, soft kisses against her trembling wide mouth and reassure her that all would be well…strange because he rarely kissed women.  He appreciated them going down on him, but didn’t appreciate the thought that they had gone down on other men before him.

He wanted to make gentle, tender love to her…even stranger because he always fucked women.  Fucked them hard as they screamed his name and told him how brilliant a lover he was, how big and sweet and hard his cock was, and how tasty his cum…all in anticipation of the expensive trinket he would later give them.

She was awakening needs in him that were alien.

It was worrying and exhilarating.

“Come here to me,” he commanded softly.  He could have gone to her and swept her off her feet, but he wanted her to feel some measure of control, to consciously bridge the gap between them.

She walked slowly over to him, her breasts and hips swaying rhythmically with each step.  All at once he understood why men in ancient times worshipped Rubenesque women.  The movement of her hips was as old as time itself—and far sexier to him than the practised sashaying walk of supermodels on catwalks.  Her hips looked capable of bearing his children naturally and effortlessly.  The thought made him want to plant his seed deep inside her and watch it grow from the outside.

He shook his head to clear it and slid his hands up her goose-bumped arms to warm them as she finally drew close enough for him to touch her.

“Don’t be afraid of me, sweetheart.  I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He would, of course, when he took her virginity, but he would try to do so as painlessly as possible.

She raised her chin and gazed up at him, her eyes so trusting his heart clenched.  He knew that whatever happened he couldn’t seduce her against her will.

What the hell’s wrong with me? 
Annoyed with the tender feelings she created inside him, Jared sought to regain control of himself and the situation.  Cupping her breasts, he held her gaze as he thumbed her nipples.  The only other times breasts had overfilled his large hands like this, they had been implants which had moved unnaturally and separated from the breast tissue when moulded.  Hers were beautifully solid masses and moulded to perfection, the nipples peaking magnificently at his touch.

“Mmm,” she moaned, her eyes softened and then closed in ecstasy as he applied a firmer touch.

“Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart,” he whispered.

She obeyed him instantly, her eyes looking dazed as though she was high on drugs or alcohol as he continued to tease her nipples.

“Have you let another man touch these?”  His hands tightened on her flesh at the thought.

She was his!

“No,” she denied, her dazed eyes meeting his squarely.

God, it was such a rush to watch her come undone by the simple touch of his fingers.

“You like this?”  He pressed them a little more firmly.

“Yes-ss,” she moaned

“And this?”  He bent and took a nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue and teeth.

“Oh.  Oh.  Yes.  Please, don’t stop!”

Her hand came up to cradle his head as he pulled the nipple deeper into his mouth and sucked on it.  Her moans grew louder as he pulled and nipped.  He
must
be the first man to ever touch her breasts—unless she had the world’s most sensitive nipples. He had never seen a woman react so strongly to a little nipple sucking and teasing.  She pressed her hips against his, seeking with an instinct that was engrained on strands of her DNA, the part of him that would give her even more pleasure.  The part that would make her soar and then finally end her torment.

Luckily Jared had such a part.

Swinging her up in his arms he marched out of his office, down the corridor and into his bedroom.  He needed to be comfortable for all he wanted to do to her.

She started when he bent and laid her against the softness of the high-count Egyptian cotton sheet on the bed.