Boxed Set: Dominated by a Billionaire - Part 10-12: Irresistible Billionaire (20 page)

I want him…

My feet land on the cool parquet again and his hands press me against his heavenly body. Our lips have no need to search each other out; they find each other instinctively, drawn like magnets. Our breathing speeds up, our tongues begin to go wild, voracious, as our teeth collide. I moan and protest several times, jumping as he bites me. My hands dig into his hair. His press me harder against his chest. Against his manhood – already standing at attention beneath his suit pants – ready for action.

Everything about him belongs to me now. Including… that.

That kiss sets all my senses on fire and I let myself be carried away by his passion. I hang onto Vadim, onto his square shoulders, breaking the embrace only to kiss him again and again, until I’m totally short of breath. My lover backs up, out of breath. Our mouths are just inches apart, our eyes devour each other and his grin reappears.

I’ll never tire of looking at him…

Vadim slips a hand down my back and one by one, pops open the little silk buttons that close my wedding gown. I watch him do it, admiring his face lit by the rising sun, in a hurry to get out of my wedding attire, gorgeous, for sure, but more than I need just now!

The last button pops open and my King lets the organza drop slowly to the floor. It makes me shiver. And he does the same when he sees me in my white lingerie:

"A lace garter belt?" he says, eating me up with his eyes. "Damn, Alma, you are temptation in the flesh… I don’t know which god or devil sent you, but whoever it is, I’m ready to trade everything with him to get you…"

"Even your soul?" I ask, impishly, swaying from right to left.

"I left my soul in your hands almost thirteen years ago," my dark and handsome man murmurs, gradually stepping closer to me. "And this morning, I count on getting it back for a few hours, to do all those vile and unforgivable things that this garter belt worn by you, a woman of ill repute, inspires in me…"

"If I take it off, will you give me your soul?" I ask, teasing him.

"Absolutely not! I forbid you to touch anything whatsoever," he threatens, staring at the lace with ten times more intensity.

"So take off your clothes," I say, trying to stay serious. "Slowly. So I can admire my new acquisition…"

You are mine, Vadim… Officially!

"Your new name is going a little too much to your head, Alma King!" he roars, throwing himself at me. "It is high time I refresh your memory…"

One hand covers my mouth – stifling my giggles – while the other wraps around my neck and pushes me towards the closest wall. I am totally on fire, shaking, as exquisite warmth spreads up my backbone. My husband has decided to take action – and prove to me that, between the two of us, he’s the one in control. The King doesn’t intend to abdicate his throne too easily…

Once my back is against the wall, I greedily locate his mouth again. My hands are busy trying to get his clothes off. I have to start over several times but, with his help, his 3-piece suit winds up joining my Vera Wang gown at the foot of the aluminum gray-lacquered sideboard. I shiver as I feel his sculpted body press up against mine.

Please let this feeling never go away…

Between two passionate kisses, we head excitedly towards the bedroom that I can’t wait to see. I let out a quick swear word upon entering the incredibly sized room with its cozy interior decorating. Hundreds of little lamps light up as we walk in, and white rose petals are laid out in a trail from the door to the bed.
King size, what else
?

With an exhilarating smile on his lips, Vadim pushes me gently onto the wonderful bed. My hands immediately stroke the fabric covering it. Wild silk: I bet my life on it! I turn to look at my lover – my husband, Alma, this time no excuses! – and see him filling two champagne glasses, a few feet away. He is totally naked, with his back to me and a sudden desire overcomes me. Take a picture of him, from every angle, so – as he said himself – not to forget anything. Keep all this in mind forever: this wedding night, this enchanted setting, this garter belt that makes me feel like a
femme fatale
– and especially… most importantly… his fantastic body, his perfect curves, his prominent muscles, his ass…

My god, that ass…

"Alma King, look me in the eye," Vadim orders, staring at me in the big mirror in front of him.

"No, I’m busy with another part of your body."

"Fine. I’m going to have to find a solution for that," he sneers, coming to the bed, holding the two champagne glasses. "First, drink this. A toast to us…"

"Are you sure you don’t need an aphrodisiac cocktail instead?"

My teasing has the sought-after effect. The glasses land on the floor. His big, muscular body lands on mine and my senses are ready to take off. As he makes grunting noises, Mr. King manages to get all kinds of moans out of me. He kisses me, then he nibbles on my lower lip, slips his tongue along my neck, tackles my hard nipples through the fabric, goes down to my bellybutton, then stops when he reaches the lace.

"This lingerie is going to have to disappear," he says, removing my bra, then lifting my legs to slip off my panties. "However, these white stockings better not go anywhere… They give you a little innocent, almost prudish look…"

"And you plan on degrading me, is that it?" I say, breathless, feeling his fingers going further down.

"Precisely. Now be quiet and let me inside you…"

I moan noisily as his forefinger sinks into my wet private parts. I arch my back and spread my legs slightly to delight in the feeling more. The chills are back. Then, as my breathing becomes more and more frantic, his thumb starts making circles around my clitoris and I feel myself growing wings. I let out a throaty scream, that he stifles by bringing his lips up to my mouth. A slower, more lustful kiss than before that sets me on fire… from behind.

"I want you, Mrs. King," Vadim sighs, as his lips stroll down my neckline.

"So stop driving me crazy and take me!" I say, pleading.

His satisfied smile gives me a moment of clarity and I change my mind in a flash. I sit up, pushing him aside, then I straddle him. He doesn’t try to resist and simply ogles me with his metallic gaze.

Ogle me all you want, King, so long as you let me get to you…

His hard-on fits into the palm of my hand wonderfully when I take hold of it. With my eyes embedded in his, I watch him shudder as I go back and forth. Slowly at first, patiently, gently. Then I increase the pace, feeling his excitement rise as his manhood grows harder and bigger in my hand.

My King has turned speechless… His senses have taken over… Mine aren’t far behind…

I can’t hold back any longer. My loins are begging for him with such insistence that it is almost painful. I place my hands around his neck – lean on his wide shoulders to keep my balance – and mount his pointed erection. Relief is immediate. A wave of burning chills runs through me, then the wild race begins. The goal: reach a semi-comatose state after a magnificent orgasm. The first – officially – as Mrs. King.

His hands run across my back, stroke it, grip it, and massage it, while I go up and down on his cock. Sometimes, our mouths brush up against each other, fuel one another, bump into each other. A second later, I take refuge in his neck and focus on the fleeting sensations that are growing in my groin. Our legs slap together like a metronome, our sighs echo each other, our skin rubs together, electrifying me. Nothing exists outside our osmosis. The room empties out around us. Our surroundings disappear. Only the sun's rays shed light on our united bodies. I pant again and again, in response to my lover’s rumbling sounds.

In a deft move of his hips, Vadim manages to penetrate me more deeply. A one thousand volt electric current shoots through me. I arch as much as possible to make the sensation last…and last... With one hand, I take hold of the hair close to the nape of his neck and pull it with each ramming movement. My King has no other choice but to raise his head and, while I straddle him, I admire his prominent jaw, his mouth curled up at the edges, the faint scar on his lower lip, his straight, white teeth. His good looks dazzle me, even now. Even just seconds from an orgasm, I can’t seem to ignore how attractive he is.

He chose me… Me…

He pulls me towards him for one last kiss and the pace of our rocking increases, until it drives me wild. My moaning is almost constant as the waves of pleasure spread through me, from my toes to my messy blunt cut. I press my cheek against his, my chest against his, to feel the last few shudders. His pecs brush my breasts. My nipples, harder than ever, ask for more. I soar a few seconds later, my eyes filled with stars, carried away by an endless pleasure. My head spins deliciously and my private parts are in turmoil. Then I feel him tensing up inside me and in a husky voice he utters the most beautiful “I love you” I’ve ever heard…

We stay sitting that way, me skewered on him, him inside me, for a short eternity. Our breathing slowly calms down, our senses fade, our skin temperature drops a few – dozen – degrees. With his head leaning on my shoulder, Vadim moves slowly from right to left, as if to rock us. I savor the moment of physical, mental and emotional fulfillment, stroking his hair tenderly. The same messy hair I was treating so roughly just minutes earlier.

We slowly roll over to the side. The cool silk bites deliciously into my skin and our bodies come unsoldered. I turn to face him and Vadim does the same. Face to face, one against the other, we let our eyes do the talking. In my King’s eyes, I read a perfect combination of the most beautiful, the most precious desire and tenderness there ever was.

“I have never been surer of myself,” he whispers, running the tip of his fingers along my arm. “Such a feeling of letting go, such pleasure. I only ever want to experience that with you. And with these stockings…”

“I’m not sure they’ll hold up; they’ve already got runs in them,” I say, laughing softly as I take them off. “I, on the other hand, am not going anywhere. Married or not, I have only ever wanted you,” I say in a hushed voice.

“Alma King… My wife,” he whispers, as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

A blissful – no, silly – smile spreads across my lips. I’m about to answer, but I suddenly think of something.

“I’ve got an idea; don’t move!”

I jump out of bed – onto my still shaky legs – and, ignoring his protests, go all the way to the entryway of the presidential suite. I find my little roller bag and open the front pocket, to take out my smartphone. I turn around and rush towards the bedroom, where Vadim is waiting for me, lying on his back, leaning on his elbows. Wonderfully naked and impatient…

“Already had enough of me?” he says, staring at my phone and running an annoyed hand through his hair.

“Just the opposite; never enough of you. And I want to make this moment unforgettable…”

I lie down next to him and bring my face closer to his, holding the phone over us.

“Smile, King. May this wedding night last forever,” I murmur. I press on the button and the flash goes off.

Something tells me I’m going to admire this poor quality picture again and again, over the next fifty years…

The rooftop terrace looks something like the Garden of Eden. Despite it being autumn, the weather is still nice. Lying on a comfy lounge chair, shaded from the sun under the white parasol alongside the pool, I skim over the cover of a celebrity magazine, picked randomly from the stack Adrian brought over this morning. My gaze stops in the middle of the page, on Vadim’s picture, taken a few days earlier on the red carpet at the grand opening of
Twirling
. The event was a big hit. A crowd of uncontrollable fans came all the way to the Grand Rex, just to see the stars and…my King.

Those intense gray eyes that grab you, that pierce through you to see into the depths of your soul.

I wasn’t up to going with him. I somehow didn’t have the strength for it. All those eyes focused on us, those cameras shooting picture after picture, those questions people throw at us without thinking about if they might be hurtful or . Lily happily filled in for me – I think she would have been capable of killing someone just to attend the screening… She paraded around on my man’s arm in one of her latest creations – a rather daring dress with openwork in the front and in the back – everywhere, except in the “X-rated” zones, as she says.

In one year, my little sister has made a 180-degree turn. She released her first – planet-friendly and fair trade – collection. She owes this soar of motivation and this new taste for work in part to a man she crossed paths with exactly a year ago, at our ceremony in Santa Monica. That man is Arthur Krout, an old friend and colleague of Vadim’s. A brilliant, rich man – when night falls, he doesn’t count sheep, he counts millions. He’s thoughtful, no fuss, no artistic whims. In short, not a thing about him that Lily would usually go for. And yet, ever since their first kiss, those two have been inseparable.

“He isn’t a vegetarian, but I love watching him eat. He snores like a pig, but I don’t sleep a wink when he’s away. And to top it off, he’s got the worst name on earth; you know it means ‘Scab’ in French, and yet, I dream of having it too… Think it’s serious?” she asks me on the phone, after endless, despairing tirades.

I think that’s called love, Lily Lancaster… Soon to be Lily Scab-Krout.

A few minutes after talking to my little sis, I see the hairless face of Skin displayed on my phone. Niels. I take a sip of San Pellegrino and pick it up, trying to sound light and cheery.

“Madame Irma speaking…”

“Get out your crystal ball and tell me that Basile has become a monk. That he has made a vow of celibacy,” my best buddy grumbles. “One of my spies saw him in the company of some guy with a beard last night.”

“Niels, Baz hates beards, you know that…”

“Only assholes never change their minds! Seriously, listen to me… You’re going to have to put me in an asylum, if he keeps this up. It’s been nine months and I can’t turn the page. It’s horrible. I could have been married and divorced three times by now!”