BILLIONAIRE (Part 7) Read online

  “Stop it right now, the two of you,” she said sternly, her face heart-breakingly serious and mind-numbingly beautiful. Like an angel, crouched there, scolding us. “Alexander, you leave him alone. He’s been only kind to me. And good. He found me, and he helped me. He’s done nothing wrong.”

  Jake turned to me. “I didn’t do anything,” he said. “I wanted to, but I wouldn’t do that to you, brother. I wouldn’t. Not after everything. I was keeping her safe for you. She’s for you. She’s good for you. You deserve her.”

  My brother, as close as we’ve been over the years, was not especially sentimental. He keeps his emotions, generally speaking, close to his chest. It’s sort of a defence mechanism of his, I’ve learned. This was the most emotional thing I’d ever heard him say.

  And I believed him. I believed him so much it hurt.

  Then he turned to Lila and said, “You should forgive him. He saved me, and it wasn’t easy. That’s why he acts the way he does: he had to. He had to be a mother and a father and a brother and a provider. I was a fucked-up kid who needed help. And he helped me. Every day. Every single fucking day of my miserable fucked-up life. He never gave up on me. He still hasn’t given up on me, and that’s saying something. He can help you, too, Lila. He’s the most generous person I know and you should forgive him. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  With that, Lila kissed Jake’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said to him. “Thank you for saving me tonight.” Then she turned to me, and I noticed she wasn’t crying anymore. “Alexander, I’d like to go home now,” she said.

  Lila

  Alexander gently picked me up and carried me into the elevator, holding me against his chest and his sheltering heat like I weighed no more than a child. His distinctive scent provided a divine blend, both comforting and erotic. He smelled like sweat and love and money. I turned my face up to his and curled my arms around his neck as the elevator door closed. I weaved my fingers through the coarse black locks of his hair as I contemplated him. The flexed muscles of his shoulders and his neck. The bruise that was forming around his eye. The disheveled, wild look of him, beneath the relieved, almost somber expression. God, how I’ve missed his face. His hair. I’m never, ever leaving him again, I thought. I can’t. I need this too much.

  “I love you,” I whispered, looking into the depths of his midnight-black eyes. “I love you so much.”

  “I’m so sorry I scared you,” he said, his voice rasped with emotion. Could any man be more perfect than this one? Forget that he was gorgeous beyond belief, the sight of him and all his rugged, swarthy masculinity scalding my senses, overwhelming me with relief and happiness and hunger. It was the dedication, the remorse and the total devotion that got me most of all. His eyes were reddened from the rawness of his relief. That he’d found me. That I might forgive him.

  It was enough. I did forgive him, with my whole soul.

  I pulled his face to mine and kissed his lips tenderly. So softly. Just tasting him, reveling in the fact that he was here with me. He groaned, as if my kiss was breaking his heart.

  “You know what I want to do with you?” he asked, that dark husk in his voice unfurling something in me. “After we’ve worked out your schedule and got you acclimatized at Skyscraper, I want to take you out on my yacht. Just you and me.” He paused, then added. “If you want to.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. This was the Alexander I’d fallen in love with. The one who’d asked me if I was game before taking control of every detail of my well-being. The one who’d charmed me and fixed me, on my own terms, and on his. Equally. “I want to,” I said, kissing him again, more deeply. Touching my tongue to his parted lips.

  He was breathing more heavily but his grip tightened. The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. I didn’t care about anything or anyone but Alexander. With my arms still wrapped around his neck, my hands entwined in his hair I kissed his stubble-roughened jaw as he carried me into the foyer. I was vaguely aware that the doorman opened the door for us, that the limousine driver he had called from Jake’s apartment was already there, opening another door. But all my focus was on Alexander’s face. On his taste, his scent, the feel of his body under his shirt. He said something to the driver before the door was closed behind us, sealing us back into Alexander’s plush world. He settled me onto his lap with his arms wrapped around me.

  I kissed him again. His feel and the taste of his lips against mine was luscious, drugging, insanely seductive. I touched my tongue to his, playing him, drawing his tongue delicately into my mouth. He exhaled with a low, savage sound, but he pulled back. “You’re tired, sweetheart. I don’t want to push you tonight. You’ve been through the ringer. I want you to rest.”

  I loved the genuine concern in his voice. I’d scared him today and he was taking no chances with me. He’d promised to be careful, to make amends for his mistake. And he was right: I had been through a ringer of sorts today, one that had left me emotionally raw and also insanely thankful. That I had him. That he was mine, flaws, obsessions and all.

  I wanted to show him how glad I was to see him. I wanted to prove to him that I’d forgiven him, and that I trusted him. “I don’t want to rest yet,” I said. “Alexander, make love to me. Right now. I want you so much.”

  “You don’t have to prove anything, Lila,” he said, tuning into my wavelength. Understanding me. “Let me take you home. I’ll run you a hot bath in the Jacuzzi. I’ll pamper you and feed you. Let me do that for you tonight. I don’t want you to wear yourself out. You need rest.”

  “All right,” I said, loving him a thousand times more than ever, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, nibbling on his earlobe. I knew he’d relent even though he hadn’t yet given in to me in his own mind. He could protest all he wanted but I knew what he liked. And I knew what I liked. He wanted to pamper me and I would let him. “Lay me down, Alexander,” I said softly into his ear, touching little butterfly kisses along his jaw to his lips. “I want you to lay me back onto the seat so I can rest.”

  He obliged immediately, setting me carefully down into a reclining position, his eyes full of anguished, almost manic concern.

  “I’m warm,” I told him. “Too warm. Untie my robe so I can cool off a little.”

  He did, parting the robe, holding his palm to my forehead. “Maybe you have a fever. I should take you to a doctor.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t need a doctor. I feel cooler already.”

  His eyes were on my face and his fingers gently smoothed my hair. I slid my arms from the robe so I was laying on it, completely naked. Alexander, for the first time since I’d known him, didn’t seem to notice this. He was too preoccupied with my health. I found this funny and also ridiculously endearing. And I planned to remedy the situation immediately.

  “I’m warm but my skin feels cool, and tingly,” I said. “After being outside in the ice-cold rain.”

  A ripple of tortured rage flashed behind his eyes at the thought of me, cold and alone. “I wish you had just come to me –”

  I touched my finger to his lips and he quieted instantly. “Would you warm me with your hands? It would feel so good if you would touch me. Just gently. Like this.”

  Taking his hand, I placed his palm on my arm, rubbing it softly against my skin.

  I closed my eyes and relaxed my hold, letting him continue as my arms fell to my sides. He caressed my arms, massaging gently with both hands. “Mmm,” I sighed. “That feels so good. Do my legs, too.” My eyes opened and our gazes met. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  His mouth quirked at the corner. Not quite a smile. This was our thing: this dance. Allowing options. Not forcing. Not running. Trusting. Meeting halfway. This was what we were learning how to do, despite our individual difficulties with it. “I don’t mind,” he said quietly, moving to my feet, which he massaged with deliberation, pressing into the arch of my foot with his thumb until I exhaled with pleasure. After the long walk in high-heeled boots, his careful manipulations felt
downright heavenly. I wasn’t sure if he intended his touch to be erotic, but I responded nonetheless. I couldn’t help myself. The gentle-strong strokes of his fingers reminded me of other places he’d caressed me. I let my legs part, keeping my eyes closed, so he could see me. Every inch of me. I was his and I wanted him to be reminded of that. My sex was moistening with each glide of his fingers. I could feel the gentle swell and pulse begin to plump me under his watch. I wanted him to watch as I grew increasingly turned on. His hands had moved to my calves now, gliding higher.

  “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 embrac
es. “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.