Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels (93 page)

“Oh, I almost forgot...” Then, right smack dab in the middle of all of the restaurant goers, Victor took a box from the inside pocket of his suit and opened it up, revealing a necklace with a large, shimmering blue sapphire stone in the shape of an oval, surrounded by a ring of small diamonds. “This is to match your dress. Lift your hair up a bit, will you?” He placed the necklace around my neck, and it rested heavily on my chest, just above the swell of my breasts.

I stared down at it in amazement. Jeez, how much did this cost, I wonder?

“Thank you, Sir,” I mumbled, wishing I could just dissolve into the floor and disappear with the way everyone was staring at us. I think one guy even began to clap. Oh, God. This was mortifying.

Victor seemed nonchalant over the little spectacle we gave everyone, and we continued to follow the waiter until he stopped us by a small, two-seated table next to a window that showcased the bustle of Paris’s busy streets. A single red rose sat in a stained glass vase in the middle of the table, which was covered with a matching red gingham tablecloth. The setup was cute and quaint, but I could barely appreciate it with all the nervousness I felt.

I thanked the waiter awkwardly as he pulled out the chair for me. I sat and scooted the chair closer to the table, instantly cringing as the chair’s legs squeaked loudly on the floor. I glanced back up at the waiter and realized he was supposed to push the chair in for me. He had an amused expression on his face but didn’t say a word.

“That’s not very ladylike, Dove,” Victor told me after the waiter had left. I jumped as I felt the vibrator rumble to life inside of my panties and I squirmed in my seat. My body grew hot at the thought of anyone watching me. I glanced around, and thankfully nobody noticed my little outburst.

“You must remain poised. You must act like you’re in full control of yourself even when you’re in situations where you’re not.” He turned off the vibrator and I relaxed but not before remembering to sit up straight in the chair. “Very good.”

While Victor opened the menu to look at the items, I fiddled with the end of the tablecloth. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him. Although he had been with me in the most intimate way possible, I still knew little about him other than what Karen and Betty had told me. Perhaps I should start off with the easiest question.

“Where are you from?” I blurted out, hoping that I wouldn’t seem too rude. I almost forgot to add, “Sir.”

Victor closed the menu and rested it on the table. “I was born and raised in California.” Suddenly, I felt the vibrator against my pussy. I gave a small yelp, causing a few heads to turn our way. Victor smiled politely at the inquiring stares before darkening his gaze at me. “You will need to remember to sit up straight. I don’t want to keep reminding you of something that simple. Do you want me to take off my tie and bind it around your shoulders like I did on the plane?”

Damn it, I had already started to slouch. I pulled my shoulders back, trying to ignore the arousal blossoming from deep within my lower abdomen from the vibrator and from Victor’s words. Trying to channel Victor’s nonchalant attitude, I decided to continue on with the conversation, asking him the next question that came to my mind, “Karen mentioned your father once. Does your family still live in California?”

He pressed his lips together firmly, and paused for a moment, as though he were debating whether or not to answer me. “My father died a few years back,” he replied. “Although I did not see him much in his later years... My mother abandoned me when I was six years old. Are you ready to order?”

The change in topic took me by surprise, and I stared down at the closed menu. “I—I can’t read,” I stammered. I never felt so self conscious over the fact that I could only read a few simple words. I thought he would’ve known that by now.

“It’s in French, so I wasn’t expecting you to anyway,” he said dryly as the waiter came up to take our order. Victor said a few words to him in French before the waiter nodded and collected our menus.

I listened to them enviously, wishing I could speak a language that sounded so beautiful. Victor chuckled at something the waiter said to him and I realized I enjoyed hearing the sound. He didn’t seem to laugh too often.

“Do you like working for your company?” I asked him once we were alone again.

He chuckled. “I don’t know if ‘like’ is the correct term for something that has been ingrained into my life since birth. I was always meant to take it over from my father. Once I graduated high school, I studied business at Yale, and by the time I finished, my dad was ready to take me under his wing.” Victor looked thoughtful. “I suppose I never really thought about whether I like it or not. It’s just who I am.”

Your identity
. “I’m sorry about your parents. I wish I knew who mine were.”

The waiter came back with a bottle of red wine. He popped the cork and poured us both a glass. Victor took a sip of it. “You don’t remember?”

“I only remember the last two years of my life.” I shrugged.

“Lucky you. Sometimes I wish I could forget that much of my life.”

I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not. His face was always so unreadable. His comment, however, made me angry. He had no idea what it was like to have a black hole in his memory, so how could he say something like that so casually?

“You’re lucky you know who your family is,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Are you glad to be off the streets?”

For the first time I heard a hint of hesitation in his voice as he asked me the question. I chose my words carefully. “The night that Marian found me was the coldest night I’d ever experienced in San Francisco. It was so cold and wet that even though I was dressed in layers, I was still soaked to the bone.” I closed my eyes at the memory. “So to answer your question: yes, I am glad to be away from all of that. I would be crazy if I wasn’t. You don’t know what it’s like out there, worrying every night whether or not you’ll be alive the next morning…” I finally remembered who I was talking with. “...Sir,” I added.

“No, I suppose I don’t know what that’s like,” he said, and that was the end of it.

It wasn’t long until we were served an appetizer, which was a heaping plate of what looked like bunch of snail shells. My stomach churned at the sight of them. “Are those what I think they are?”

“Escargot. French delicacy.” He took a pair of small, silver pincers that was given to us with the appetizer and picked one up and set it on his plate. Then, with the tiniest fork I have ever seen, he jabbed inside the shell and pulled out a slimy little morsel before popping it into his mouth. “Don’t worry; I’m sure all you will taste is the garlic.”

Well, I guess there is a first for everything. I picked up my own set of pincers to start eating but stopped short as the vibrator went off. Warily, I glanced up at Victor. “You forgot to unfold your napkin and put it on your lap before eating.”

I pursed my lips as I set down the pincers and unfolded the napkin, setting it neatly on my lap. I looked up at him for approval and he nodded for me to continue. I hadn’t eaten a thing since we left California, and although it seemed disgusting at first, the little snails were starting to sound good. I set one of the shells on my plate and scooped it out with the small fork before putting in my mouth. The texture was strange, but everything was drenched in a garlic sauce, which I suppose was to make up for the sliminess.

After a few more bites of escargot, I decided I had my fill. The salt and the garlic made me incredibly thirsty; I brought my glass to my lips and took a few quick swallows of the wine before the vibrator went off again. I barely avoided spilling the wine all over myself and the table. Anger and confusion began to boil deep within me after he turned it off.

“Must you keep doing that?” I said through gritted teeth. What was the point of him playing with me like this? Is watching me squirm and embarrass myself in front of everyone somehow amusing to him?

“How else are you going to learn your manners?” he replied coolly. “You obviously didn’t learn much during your short stay in my house.” I stiffened, bracing myself, thinking he would turn the vibrator back on for speaking out, but he never did. “You don’t drink wine like it’s a glass of water,” He lifted his wine glass. The way he held it so naturally in his hand made him look like a model for the wine company, something I would see on a billboard or in a magazine advertisement. “First you twirl the contents around in the glass, which releases the flavor and the scent, and then you sip, letting the wine settle on your tongue for a moment. This is so that you can taste the drink as you are meant to. Breathe in through your nose as you sip so that you are able to smell the flavors as well as taste them.”

I did as I was told, and sure enough the wine tasted a million times better after it had settled on my taste buds before I swallowed. I looked at the wine thoughtfully. So this particular lesson wasn’t just about manners, but about how to derive as much pleasure as I could from something. I smiled as I thought about using this little trick the next time Victor came in my mouth. I wondered how differently he would taste then.

“How is it?”

His voice broke me from my fantasy. “It tastes...” I searched my mind for a fancy word to use, “exquisite.”

He seemed satisfied by that answer. “Good. As it should be. This is the most expensive wine on the menu and I would want you to enjoy it like it was meant to.”

“The last time I had alcohol was when I met a few people around my age living on the streets. I decided to join them because I thought I would be safer than if I were alone. One of them stole a few bottles of vodka from a liquor store. I ended up drinking way more than I should have. I didn’t know any better, but they did. They made off with everything that I owned the next morning, including the money I had made that week from recycling cans.”

“I’m not here to play tricks with you, Dove.” His voice was serious. “You will know exactly why I do the things I do to you.”

Somehow I didn’t quite believe that. I guess I still had some trust issues. “I-I know,” I lied and took another sip of the wine.

We were served two plates of sirloin steak, marinated in a tangy sauce and topped with sautéed mushrooms and a side of steamed broccoli. When I jabbed my fork into the steak, I was already expecting the vibration to jolt through my body. I cringed as the uncomfortable surge of pleasure wracked my body.

“Your knife is there for a reason,” he said, without looking up from his own plate.

I found myself wanting to talk back to him—the vibrator was causing me to feel feistier than usual, and honestly, all I wanted to do was lunge across the table and tear Victor’s clothes off, or reach out for his hand under the table so he could finger me—but I decided to play his game as I copied him movement-by-movement as he cut his steak into small pieces and began eating.

The rest of the meal passed by without incident, but the more I sat there, the more disheartened I became. Although I wanted to please him, after making mistake after mistake, I was beginning to think I would never meet his high standards. Why was he keeping me around when I obviously wasn’t cut out for this type of lifestyle? He said he wouldn’t play any tricks on me, but what was he doing taking me to fancy places like this?

I tried to enjoy the meal he bought for me, but it was starting to taste like ashes in my mouth.

Chapter Eight

I was visibly sulking as we left the restaurant. I didn’t care who noticed, not even Victor. Let him punish me, for all I care. I glared at Victor’s back as I followed him outside the hotel. Tears burned in my eyes and threatened to spill over. Why do I even bother trying to please him in the first place when all he does is reject me? I looked up and down the streets of Paris. I suppose if I really wanted to, I could run off and live here. Surely being homeless in Paris couldn’t be too bad. There seemed to be a lot more tourists here than in San Francisco, so maybe I would be able to get more money from them begging in the streets. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about Victor or his stupid rules ever again.

As we climbed into the backseat of a sporty black car, Victor finally seemed to notice my dark mood. He didn’t say a thing as he put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to his side. Almost without thinking, I snuggled deep into his embrace and took a deep breath. The feel of his strong arm around me made me feel steady once again, reminding me of our time earlier as we quietly embraced in the shower. I took another deep breath and was able to regain my composure. Whatever happens, I can get through this. I had been through hell and back trying to survive out in the streets; did I really want to go back to that lifestyle? Living this strange little life with Victor, eating fancy food and driving around Paris should be a cakewalk in comparison. I should be grateful for what had been practically given to me.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked him.

He gave me a small squeeze. The gesture seemed so familiar, but I tried to not let it confuse me. “You know I don’t like ruining a surprise. Let’s just say that we’re going somewhere special.”

I relaxed back into his arms, and after a few quiet minutes of driving, we pulled up alongside what looked like a huge palace—it made our entire hotel look like an ant in comparison!  Just like many of the buildings in Paris, it looked older than time itself and was absolutely majestic, but what was most strange was a large glass pyramid that sat right in the middle of everything, surrounded by three smaller ones.

“The
Musée du Louvre
,” Victor told me, as though those words would ring a bell. I furrowed my brows as we got out of the car and walked towards the pyramid. A gaping entrance greeted us as he came near it. “I noticed you had interest in my small art collection. So I thought you might enjoy this.”

As we walked into a lobby underneath the pyramid, filled with maps and various signs, I realized we were in a museum, and it seemed to me like the largest museum in the world.

We were all alone, and I couldn’t begin to think of how Victor had managed that. I peeked into one of the wings adjacent to the lobby, and my jaw dropped as hundreds of pieces of art met my gaze. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.”