A Daughter for the Eccentric Billionaire (2 page)

He then came up to her. As if she were a
cat, he gently pet under her chin by crooking his finger a few
times, and simultaneously lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “I do
care that you love me, which is why I’m ignoring it, Camille,” he
said softly. “And when you start sleeping with men and realize how
visual men are, you’ll appreciate my determination to ignore it
even more. Now get out of the chair, because I’m not going to ask
you again.”

She didn’t get up. Instead she grinned at
him. Not only did he admit to caring in a tone that seemed to prove
he felt far more than he revealed, but his soft caress felt
incredibly intimate because of how slowly he moved.

To her surprise, right when she wasn’t
striving to draw his attention to another sensual body part, Bruce
looked down at her lips. Inwardly she began to beg him to lean
forward and claim her by sealing his mouth to hers or even sweeping
a finger over her lips so she could kiss it, but he didn’t. He
simply smiled, and with genuine pleasure as if her attempts to get
his attention were quirky and charming.

Bruce then stepped away from her and looked
skyward. The shift in his attention drew her attention to the wind
which had picked up without her notice. A helicopter hovered over
the yacht, and drifted lower from a high altitude. Attached to a
cable over fifty feet below was another crate. Camille’s heart
leapt. She knew what it was carrying, but she still questioned him
with a giddy joy in her voice: “What’s that, Bruce?”

“I somehow just knew you wouldn’t deal with
Aubrey’s gift very well. So, it’s…
you—
in stone.”

“You’re going to sink me, too?”

“Yes,” he tore his eyes from the helicopter,
“I’m going to sink you.” Camille’s eyes snapped onto his, because
his statement sounded oddly sexual as if he didn’t say
sink
at all but
fuck
. Or maybe it was all in her head because she
wanted him to sleep with her. “After I finger paint them, of
course.” He brushed a hand over Aubrey’s stone shoulder.

Camille jumped off the throne, acting
without any thought or worries of what the consequences might be,
and threw her arms around Bruce’s neck. She planted her lips on his
and kissed him hard. He stiffened in surprise, but he surprised her
too, because he suddenly embraced her and held her tight. He let
her hold her mouth up against his hot lips for the briefest moment
before he kissed her cheek with a lighter peck, slowly stepped
back, and slid his hand along her shoulder blades while allowing
his fingers to pass under the strap to her bikini top. The thrill
of knowing where his fingers were, under her thin strap, made her
shiver. She was still trembling when he released her. As if their
kiss was nothing more than an innocent peck on the lips, he hastily
said, “Let’s go open your crate.”

Hours later, Bruce was up to his elbows in
pastel finger paint. He had touched Camille’s body, fondling her
round ass and cupping the curves to her exposed chest and raised
nipples, all while painting the stone statue made to her exact
shape by rubbing every inch of her. Bruce didn’t shy away from
spending time to add detail to intricate swirls over her famine
features, just as he’d done for his Aubrey’s statue. And because
Camille wanted all his attention on her and thinking about what
she’d look like nude or feel like if he dared to touch her, she
didn’t interrupt Bruce’s intense focus.

She watched, and with each passing minute
she was convinced he felt something for her. He spent too long
admiring her breasts, fussing to get the exact color of her sun
kissed ass, and he never blushed once when painting on a bikini.
When he was finished with the statue, Camille was a gorgeous
mermaid stepping out of her fish tail to show sexy long legs.

Unfortunately the simple act of him painting
her body that day seemed to change everything. She always wondered
if he was quietly deciding it was wrong to so freely touch her
while so young, despite the fact he actually caressed stone and not
her, but he changed toward Camille. He no longer patiently told her
stop trying to seduce him. He no longer wanted anything to do with
her. He simply avoided her at all cost right up to that day she
stripped off her bikini in front of him to skinny dip, and he
promptly left the poolside before sending her away only a few days
after that.

Years later, Camille was finally given the
opportunity to find out exactly what he thought of her. A chance to
see him again seemed to fall perfectly into place, although she was
artfully going about and stealing an opportunity to see him. Aubrey
had no idea Bruce was throwing a party because she was in Italy
with her newest husband, and Camille happened to return home from
college to find Bruce’s invitation to his party. And by
happenstance, Camille found Aubrey’s invitation from Bruce as if it
were meant for her.

Reading the hand written note instantly
brought back envy as she read Bruce’s forward and daring words, but
then he always spoke his mind. She jealously wished he’d worship
her with such devotion as he once did her mom as she read:

Dearest Aubrey,

I applaud your ability to move on, but after
six failed attempts I couldn’t see myself trying to marry
again—until now. I know this time I’ll find “the one”. I’ve dreamt
of her, therefore I’m certain; I’m sure she’ll find me. I miss all
those nights I spent hours talking to your pussy, and baring my
soul. I’m ready for that again with someone else. I’d love for you
to be there, and congratulate me and my happiness when she’s found
me, as I have done wished you happiness with Stephenose.

Sincerely,

Lord
Linderman

At first, Camille was devastated. She liked
reading columns about him, knowing he was still single, never
seriously dating but only filling his nights with beautiful women
that never amounted to anything, but now he was suddenly deciding
to remarry. She felt like her chance to ever be with him abruptly
came to an end, when she spent far too long wishing he’d somehow
reconnect with her.

If he wasn’t boasting with confidence that
his future wife would show up, she wouldn’t have boldly taken
matters into her own hands. Suddenly, she was determined to win
him, and in the chill of the cool September night, she rushed up
the stairs to his newest mansion, tucked away among thickets of
tall trees in the middle of Spain, for a lock in. No one would be
able to leave once the doors were shut at ten o’clock. Camille
purposefully came with only minutes to spare so Bruce couldn’t send
her away before they were chained in from the outside.

The night would be wild. It was her first
ever swingers’ part and she didn’t know what to expect, especially
since her eccentric dad did nothing by rule. The possibilities made
her nervous and excited.

The doors were open wide, but she still had
to present the golden key to a man dressed in a silk tie which was
so short the tip stopped only inches below his clavicle. Besides
matching black boxers that looked like a tux because of a white
stripe down the front with three buttons, he wore nothing else. He
took one look at her invitation and then said, “Welcome to the
mad-mix party,” and then gestured for her to go inside.

The mansion was decorated in oddities, all
sexual in nature. Plaster art with hundreds of people in a single
orgy carved in various positions covered every inch of the walls.
From behind the long sculpted sheet, glory holes proudly displayed
generous sized cocks for both women and men to use for their
choosing. On huge pedestals, couples coated in bintsuke wax had sex
on display. Toys were handed out from women who wore black bra and
panties with white hand prints cupped over their tits and ass.
Several nude women walked around serving breast milk to anyone
wishing to latch on. And every guest wore black and white lingerie,
as dress code required. The only man daring to stand out and don
another color was Lord Bruce Linderman.

Bruce saw her the exact moment she noticed
him, and the moment they locked eyes, he stole her breath. He was
gorgeous, and looked just as she remembered him. Yet she’d never
seen him in such a sexual light. He wore tight gold shorts that
clung to his tone stomach and firm ass. Bruce looked stiff and
uneasy at the sight of her, but then his only daughter he ever had
walked into his house while he was wearing nothing but tight shorts
and his dick was nine inches erect and sticking straight out of a
slit. His shaft was covered in layers different shades of red.
There was no misunderstanding how his cock was decorated with the
variety of cherry tints, because several women waited in line and
chose a tube of lipstick from a tray, while another bent down low
to kiss his dick in several places to greet her host.

However, Bruce stared at Camille as if he’d
never seen her before and he was obviously oblivious to everything
else. He wore no expression of arousal or pleasure from the woman
before him.

Camille practically floated up to him. He
was so fucking sexy. She loved his odd ways, and she was determined
to mark him with her own shade of red. She boldly cut in line to
stand in front of him. Because his focus was fixed on her, the
women all looked. Approaching him made the others stand back, and
she needn’t do anything else to claim him. She’d suck his cock, and
show every woman in there that Bruce belonged to her.

“Kiss the host,” the man who stood beside
Bruce said and held up the tray of many shades of red lipstick for
her to choose a color. Camille only vaguely heard him. She
nervously stood in front of her former father, although she was
much better at masking her feelings these days. She smiled, but
wished he would welcome her or the doors would close before he
ordered her away.

The sight of her apparently made him
speechless. His eyes were locked on hers. Evidently, he had nothing
to say.

Thankfully he didn’t flush despite his cock
being on display for her. He didn’t cover or try to hide his sexual
nature. She would have been disappointed if he had. However, Bruce
never denied his ferocious appetite for fucking. Camille simply
wanted to be the one he sought pleasure with.

“Madam, you must kiss the host.” This time
the man forcefully held up the tray higher to get her
attention.

“It’s okay,” Bruce said with a turn of his
head, but he didn’t tear his eyes from her. “She doesn’t have
to.”

“
I want to
.”

Camille chose a lipstick without a glance or
any thought to shade, because at the moment Bruce was noticing she
didn’t wear lingerie at all, but had intricate red and black lace
painted on her body to look like she wore clothes. There was no
mistaking the fake fabric. The paint barely concealed her, because
her nipples were erect just like his noticeably long cock. Before
she came and when she was contemplating how to get his attention,
she decided to refuse to wear anything, including the black and
white. The painted thong was sure to get his attention, and with
his notice, she said, “It took four hours, if you’re wondering how
long it took to add such detail.”

“No, I…I didn’t notice you were…naked. That
would be perverted of me.”

“Perverted would have been you fucking me
years ago when I wanted you to. I’m twenty now. Noticing I was
naked would be a compliment.” She twisted the bottom to the
lipstick and then applied it to her lips. She smiled, realizing he
would have never openly ogled her as he was now and her age
certainly made a difference.

He didn’t pry his eyes away, and took his
time gazing at her body despite her knowing he was taking pleasure
in the sight of her. He even dared to peek at her vertical lips,
and long enough she wondered if he was curious if the painted
panties were crotchless or it concealed the pink skin of her pussy.
If he really wanted to know, he’d have to find out.

Then his eyes traveled up to her belly
button ring, and then to her lacy, flesh bra. She let him gaze at
the flower nuzzled between her perky tits, and then follow the
pattern of swirls to her nipples. She loved that he didn’t restrain
himself as he would have done years ago. He was checking her out,
and made no apologies for doing so.

It didn’t escape her attention either that
he never refused to let her kiss his only body part covered in red.
He was most willing to let her lay her lips all over his cock. And
she wasn’t going to just kiss him once she took the opportunity.
Surely he knew she would always strive for more of him.

“Then you look lovely, Camille.”

She inwardly cringed. Lovely was a word he
used often when complimenting her as a young girl. “I was hoping to
be sexy.”

“You’re that, too,” he quickly corrected.
“You look
irresistible
.”

“And you look edible, Bruce.”

Then with eyes wide open so she could see
his reaction, she slowly leaned into him and kissed his mouth. All
the tingles she got as teen when seeing him, churned her in stomach
so quickly she felt hot. Even with her lips firmly against his,
Bruce still felt tense and she imagined he worried if she was sure
she knew what she wanted, but she was determined to prove his
hesitations wrong.

Camille felt like she had only one shot, and
if she didn’t show him she wanted a chance, he’d never go out of
his way to pursue a daughter from a past marriage. So despite his
obvious doubt, she held her lips to his. Then she bit his bottom
lip and the moment he opened his mouth to exhale a shallow breath,
she slipped her tongue inside and licked the tip of his. He finally
surrendered, his ridged body eased, he closed his eyes, and then he
pulled her to him.

The kiss was no longer hers to control. His
tongue pushed through, slipping into her mouth at the same time his
crimson cock burrowed between her thighs. The distracting
suggestion of sex with his shaft sliding closely to her apex made
her moan with bliss.