My Billionaire Stranger (22 page)

Chapter 28

When we return home I find a gown hanging from the canopy between the gauze that drapes over bed. Marcus informed me that our dinner tonight would be formal attire, which I think is sort of funny since we’re staying home. But hey at least my bracelet will be appropriate. I don’t know how much things like this cost and frankly I’m afraid to wear it in public for fear it will be torn off of my arm. Dressing up and staying in is fine with me. Looking down at the outrageous gift, I still can’t get over how stunning it is. When the light catches the diamonds they glitter like the setting sun on the ocean at dusk.  I sigh and that little niggle of doubt tugs at my happiness like a child pulling at the hem of her mother’s dress for attention and I’m reminded of how tenuous this relationship is. Things could be over in the blink of Marcus’s eye, the threat of his old personality constantly looms in my mind. Right next to it is that ugly insecure piece of me that doesn’t believe I deserve any of this, the gifts, the sex, the overwhelming feelings of being loved, being cherished…. none of it. I finger the gown hanging in front of me lightly. It’s a stunning silver sheer material with a bit of shimmer woven in amongst tiny crystals that run in vertical lines down the length of the dress. I’m surprised it’s not some shade of purple, every piece of clothing he has given me has been lavender or purple. I can’t wait to put it on, and I’m praying someone has removed the price tag because I’m still seriously having issues with all of this extravagance. It’s a rare occurrence that Marcus has allowed me out of his sight to get ready for dinner so I take advantage and fill the tub in my bathroom. After emerging smelling of jasmine, compliments of an amazing bottle of body wash that is always magically full to the top on the table next to the tub, I tap my iPad to life to listen to some music.

Turn the Night Up by Enrique Iglesias pumps a heavy danceable beat while I dry my hair and apply my makeup. I’m happy, that deep down bursting at the seams kind of happy as I shake my hips and make silly faces in the mirror. Being a goofball helps relieve some of the stress I’ve had building up over the past weeks; it feels good to just mess around with no intensity, no worries, and no tension. That’s why I love music so much, it’s an escape, a time I can let it all go for a little while and just relax.

I move from the en suite to my room and notice that there are two boxes on the bed that weren’t there before, a shoebox and another larger, flat glossy black box.  He doesn’t know when to stop. Rolling my eyes, I open the shoebox first, I adore shoes, they are my weakness. Inside is a pair of 4-inch silver heels encrusted with crystals and thin straps that are meant to surround the ankle; they’re exquisite, as is everything Marcus gifts me. I can hardly wait to put them on, but curiosity as to what’s in the other box wins and I open black box to investigate; nestled inside layers of tissue, is a set of sheer panties and a matching bra, complete with a delicate garter and nearly invisible stockings. Oh …he knows what he likes. I drop my silk robe and slip into the undergarments, and my new bracelet. The dress can wait; I need to get those shoes on my feet. I slip them on and stand in front of the freestanding antique mirror staring at a stranger.

I look delicate, elegant, and sexy, a far cry from my scrubs and tennis shoes. My naturally wavy raven hair cascades down my back with only a few pieces from the front gathered loosely at the nape of my neck. Lost in thought I startle when the door clicks behind me opening just a crack Marcus stops in his tracks when he sees me standing there in only heels and lingerie. I hear him hiss through clenched teeth as he staggers back a step leaning on his crutches to keep from falling. But he recovers swiftly pushing the door open wider for a better view. He’s dressed for dinner, the picture of perfection looking like a male model in a custom tailored tuxedo. Our eyes lock mine are surprised and his are full of lust. Without a word he steps back closing the door quietly. I stand there alone and perplexed, why didn’t he seize the moment, why didn’t
I
? He very easily could have, my God I wish he would have. With my heart racing and heat quickly building between my thighs I consider the way my body responds to him, after only seconds in his presence every particle in my body is awake. Ok Imani, focus, just get dressed, the faster you get ready the faster you’ll be with him. The dress makes me feel like a queen when I step into it. The chiffon flows softly against my legs and I notice it’s slit all the way up one side to my thigh. The light color of the dress is a perfect compliment to my brown skin. One last mirror check, I adjust the diamond sapphire cuff on my wrist and I’m ready. The smell of Italian food fills the house making my stomach growl as I make my way to the dining room. I haven’t eaten much today, that’s unusual for Marcus to allow that to happen, he’s usually very punctual about meals. Marcus has been cooking authentic Italian food since he was a young boy, maybe he’s been lax with his meal schedule because he has something special planned for dinner, I hope so I’m starving and not just for food. It’s amazing how I just cannot get enough of Mr. Marcus Castillo.

The dining room has been transformed from every day ordinary into dreamy and romantic. The lights in a crystal chandelier are turned down bathing the room in a soft glow. Flickering candles line the breakfront on my right and the long mahogany table is covered with a deep purple cloth. Lily’s float in glass bowls down the center of the table that has a place setting on opposite ends. I’m not interested in sitting so far from him, how are we going to talk? An instrumental version of Adel’s ‘Rolling In The Deep’ plays on the sound system overhead. Marcus arrives while I’m still taking it all in. Stopping behind me he presses his front to my back as he sweeps my hair from one shoulder onto the other for better access to my neck. “My God you are stunning. I have never seen anything more beautiful than you are right now. I don’t know how I am going to make it through dinner without ravishing you.”

A shiver runs down my spine as his warm breath tickles my ear. I turn in his arms to face him and I can’t help but glance at his perfect lips before zeroing in on his eyes. I place my hand on his smooth, freshly shaven cheek and his eyes close as he tilts his face into my palm. Inhaling deeply as if to breathe me into his body he turns his face further to kiss the tips of my fingers.

A waiter from Dominus enters the room breaking the spell and we reluctantly move to our seats, as he pours wine with the flair only a professional server can.

“You look very handsome Mr. Castillo,” I say from my much-too-far-away seat at the dining table.

“Thank you.” Wow, a rare thank you, but what else can he say when given a compliment?

“Why are we so far from each other, I like being close to you,” I complain.

“Mmm as I do you Imani. I am an extremely disciplined man, but even I know my limits.  I apologize for the distance but there is no way I could make it through dinner in a private dining room with you in that dress. I have already imagined tearing it from your skin and bending you over this table to fuck you hard and proper. Especially knowing how delicious you look underneath it,” he says, while arranging himself in the chair and setting his crutches aside. He looks down the table at me his hands steeple in front of him, elbows on the table with his signature smirk and wink. He’s a smart man indeed. I already need a change of panties and we’ve just sat down. I restrain myself, I am dying to be closer to him, but I have business to discuss with him at dinner so I focus on that and stay put on my end of the long table. It’s a challenge to stay poised, a game maybe, and I really hate to lose any kind of game. We both take a drink of wine, I’ve never been a big wine drinker but clearly I had no idea how to choose one because this is amazing, I could down the entire glass in one drink, but I mind my manners. Dinner is served in courses, we chat lightly while we eat, and I drink more wine than I should before I remember I need to talk to him about going back to work at the hospital. I hate to ruin the mood but it’s actually to my advantage to do it now when we are so far apart.

“Marcus, I have something I want to talk to you about,” I start hesitantly.

“No good conversation ever starts with those words Imani,” he says leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“No, it’s not anything terrible, I just…I just want to go back to work at the hospital.”

There, I said it, no sugar coating. His face goes cold and actually a bit ashen, no frown, it’s quite expressionless actually, and I begin to worry if this wasn’t a good idea.

“You’re not happy here?”  He says

“No it’s not that at all, how could anyone not be happy here? I love being with you. I just don’t feel like I’m really earning my salary, I’m not doing anything for you that you can’t do for yourself. I’d rather just be your girlfriend and not your nurse. I feel a little whorish accepting money while we are sleeping together and having a relationship.” Thank god for being buzzed from the wine, I’d never have been able to admit all that sober. Silence surrounds us like a heavy blanket as he sets his wine glass down surveying me carefully, crossing his arms across his chest. He’s thinking, scheming.

“You go back to work at the hospital but move in here with me permanently, I will sell your apartment,” he says. It’s a command, an order, twisted to sound like a compromise of sorts, but with not much actual choice given to me. I can’t deny it’s what I want though, to be with him in a permanent way and to have the fulfillment my career brings me by going back to work at the hospital. My family and friends are gonna freak, but for him I’ll suffer their wrath, let em bring it.

“Okay,” I breathe, after a few seconds. I’m not sure if he has heard me, we’re so far from each other, but his entire body relaxes and it’s only then that I realize how tightly he had been. His head drop forward chin to chest and his shoulders slump. I’m overwhelmed with the need to connect with him, touch him, taste him, and smell him. The surge of passion to be skin on skin with this intense yet romantic man consumes me. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or Marcus’s words but I’m suddenly filled with newfound confidence, as I push my chair back and stand, his head snaps up and his eyes track me as I carefully step onto my chair and then on to the table, I pause for effect and watch his eyes go wide and his mouth drop open, a first for him I’m sure. When I begin to move again I walk the length of the table fiercely sweeping flowers, vases, dishes anything in my path onto the floor with my feet, I swing the chandelier to the side and move gracefully around it like a punching bag before arriving in front of him.  Towering over him Marcus sits back in his chair in awe, looking me directly in the eyes and then raking down my body with reverence before returning back to my mouth where he then focuses all of his attention. His tongue slides between his lips and back inside his mouth taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

I lower myself in front of him, opening my dress at the slit to bare my legs to him. He snakes his arms around my hips grabbing the cheeks of my ass he uses them to pull me from the table to straddle his lap. My dress is hitched around my waist as he leans close to my ear, “You are the sexiest fucking thing Imani, I can not believe you are mine, for my eyes only. Mine, here with me always.” I roll my hips into his rock hard erection and a deep guttural groan escapes him. “Fuck Imani, what you do to me.” I feel the zipper of my dress sliding down my back while he uses his other hand to burn a trail down my newly exposed skin. I begin to pant and I hear a whimper that I can only assume is my own. I’m in a different place now, gone, into a different stratosphere, a fantasy world, a fairy tail. The most beautiful man imaginable growing steely hard between my legs. His touch has me sinking helplessly into quick sand with the weight of his passion. I could die right here in this moment and not care; my life would end in utter bliss. My gorgeous new dress is lifted over my head and abandoned on the floor haphazardly, leaving me nearly naked in lingerie and obscenely high heels. My hair is so long it would shield me from anyone entering the dining room from the door behind us if I cared. I’m not in any way concerned at this moment about anyone other than Marcus. The entire kitchen and wait staff could bring chairs in and be our audience; I don’t care.  I’m so far removed from reality I wouldn’t notice. Marcus’s hands smooth over the sheer stockings from my knees to the inside of my thighs, dangerously close to my core he stops to hover teasing before traveling up my belly. His hands cup my swollen breasts as he circles his thumbs over my dark nipples simultaneously. I drop my head back with a moan as his hands glide behind me removing my barely there bra. I grip his broad, chiseled shoulders as he takes turns sucking and gently scraping my nipples, one then the other with his mouth and teeth, my body bowing into him while he forges a path of slow, loving kisses to the hollow of my neck and finally ending at my mouth.  He becomes more demanding and urgent, plunging his tongue into my mouth and taking what he needs while I give him all of me. Sliding his hands behind me he again guides me by my thick ass, pulling me closer as he moves the sheer material of the panties to the side dragging his fingers through my hot, wet folds, spreading the slickness back to the forbidden pucker of my ass he pauses there. “You are soaked for me Imani, I fucking love it.” A crazy frenzy begins and I feel there are too many clothes separating us, I need him naked, now!

I tug at his tie and fumble with the buttons of his shirt and when I can’t endure the tediousness of the task any longer, I pull at his shirt open and hear the buttons pop and bounce off the wood of the chair flying all over the dining room but I don’t care, I can finally feel him, skin against skin. Breathlessly, I pull away just long enough to get him out of his jacket and shirt before burying myself in his neck, kissing along the back of his ear, circling my hips against his and threading my fingers through his soft hair. Pressing my feet on the floor I roll forward rubbing my breasts against his soft chest hair and reach down to stroke his thick cock through his tuxedo pants. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants I slide inside to grip his hot silky length in my hand. “You’re wet for me too,” I say between kisses, sliding my finger over his slit and spreading his pre come around the tip of his cock. Who am I?  This person is
so
not me, if I were watching myself, I’d never believe the woman writhing against Marcus, grabbing, and panting with want could be me. I’ve become insatiable, I will never ever get enough of this man and thank God it seems the feeling is mutual.