Regency Romance: A Duchess in Disguise (Historical 19th Century Victorian Romance) (Duke Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (53 page)

2

It was ten after midnight when Viola finally left the restaurant, heading out with her
co-workers
through the front door, before Stephen turned and locked the door behind everyone. There was a long stretch limo parked in front of the restaurant, pulled to the curb.

“Who is that for?” a waitress named Mary asked.

“The President?” Joey, a cook, joked.

The back door of the limo opened, and James climbed out.

“Me,” Viola
murmured
, and then she stepped forward towards the limo.

“Shall we?” James asked, holding the door open for her, and Viola nodded, ducking her head and climbing into the expensive car.

“Do you always ride in one of these?” Viola asked as James settled himself behind her and shut the door. He laughed.

“Only when I’m trying to impress
a pretty
woman.”

“So all the time then?”

James laughed again. “You think you have me pegged, I know that, but I bet I end up surprising you,” he said to the younger black woman.

“This is
amazing
,” Viola said, looking around.

“Champagne?” James asked, and he pulled a bottle from an ice bucket and poured two glasses when she nodded yes. He held one out to her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Oh, here, I picked this out for you,” James said, turning and grabbing
a nearby
bag, and holding it out to Viola. She took it and pulled out a slinky and sexy dress. “For the club,”

Viola took the dress and held it in front of her eyes. It was black and tiny, and wouldn’t leave much to the imagination. She was already wearing black heels, so that wouldn’t be a problem, but she had never worn a dress like that, despite being rather comfortable in her body.

She knew men found her attractive, and she worked hard to keep in shape. She went to the
gym,
she ate right. She was on the shorter side, but a lot of men preferred that. Her hips
were rounded
, her butt big,
but toned
. She had large breasts and kept her black hair short and straight, working hard against
its
natural state.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Viola joked.

James grinned. “You’ll look great.”

“Yeah yeah, look out the window while I change,” Viola said, and the older man did just that. She shimmied and shook our of her skirt and shirt, dealing with the awkwardness of changing in a car, though being in a limo certainly helped with space.
She
pulled the new dress over her head and realized her bra was showing, so she took that off. When she pulled the dress
down,
the material slid over her dark brown nipples, hardening them. She had kept an eye on James as she changed, seeing if he would peek, but surprisingly he didn’t. Viola was surprised to find she was a little disappointed by that.

When she tapped him on the
shoulder,
he turned and
gaped
, and she felt a little better. His eyes
were drawn
to her ample cleavage, and she knew he was looking at her rosebud nipples, hard and pressing against the thin material of the dress.

“Holy shit,” he said, and left it at that. Viola smiled. James
was dressed
for the club, out of his usual suit and wearing a button up shirt that was no doubt more expensive than Jerome’s whole wardrobe had been. She thought of her ex for the first time that night since the rush had begun at work.
She
had been too busy to dwell on the breakup when Vine had
been packed
, but now it hit her again, and she felt herself growing sad and angry. She shoved the emotions from her mind as the limo pulled in front of The Ice Club.

They walked right in the door, James taking her hand and leading her in.
A large
line of
well-dressed
men and women groaned, standing outside of the club with no guarantee they would be let in. James shook hands with the doorman, and Viola was almost sure he had been palming some amount of
money
and passed it to the man. It was true what they said: money makes the world go ‘round.

Inside the club was decorated to
its
namesake. Plush couches and chairs were in white, and tables in a soft blue. The bar along the back of the club was see through,
hazy
though, like ice. There was a dance floor, with a stage and a DJ. Loud music was playing through the speakers.
The space
wasn’t that large, which only helped grow the
exclusive
reputation the club had, and it was quite busy. James led Viola to a table near the back, which had been roped off with a sign saying reserved. A waitress in a sexy white uniform hurried over and removed the rope, and then took their drink orders.

Viola had no idea what to order, so she allowed James to order for her. She was impressed by everything. Getting into the club, having his
own
table, it was all a great display of his wealth, and though Viola had always thought she was above that sort of thing, she decidedly wasn’t.

They drank and danced for hours, and then the club was shutting down and they went back outside. The limo wasn’t there, but it pulled up to the curb in front of them within seconds, and they climbed in. Viola’s head was swimming due to the alcohol, and she leaned against the far door and closed her eyes for a moment. And then James was there, sliding close to her, his hand on her bare thigh. She opened her eyes and looked
at
him.
She
thought he was going to say something, but
instead,
he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She parted her
own
lips, and their tongues met, dancing together. His hand moved up her leg, pushing the already skirt higher. He broke the kiss.

“Come back to my place,” he said. It wasn’t much of a
question,
it sounded more like a demand. Viola thought of her
own
home for a moment. She wondered if Jerome had
really
gotten out that night. She blinked away the
thoughts
and focused on James.

“Okay,” she said.

3

James lived on the top floor of a massive skyscraper. Viola didn’t know if the whole building was nothing but lavish apartments, but there had been a doorman in an expensive looking suit, and the lobby had one massive wall filled with mail slots, each with a different apartment number on the little door.

They rode for a long time in an elevator, and James had her pushed against the wall while it rose, his lips on her neck. He kissed her there, nipped at her. She wrapped her arms around him. There was a soft ding, and they left the elevator and found themselves in a short hall, with only one door, straight across from them.

“Is your apartment the whole floor?” Viola asked.

“Yeah,” James said, sounding as though he wasn’t trying to impress her. He unlocked his door, and they went inside.

The apartment was
spacious,
and the views were
incredible
, but Viola wouldn’t have the time to appreciate them until the next morning.

They were all over each other as soon as James kicked the front door closed with his foot. Viola kicked off her heels, and then stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. She put one arm around his strong body, the other behind his head so her fingers could slide through his hair. He took her by the hips, his fingers powerful there, holding her. Their bodies pressed together, and Viola could feel the heat. She could also feel his cock, hard and
pressing
against her stomach through his pants.

He lifted her up then, and she wrapped her legs around him as they continued to kiss, and he carried her into the living room. It was furnished much like her
own
living room,
a couch,
a chair, a television, but everything
was, at least,
five times more expensive. Standing over the couch James pushed on her hips, and she fell back, landing on the sofa and grinning up at him.

“How long have you
been wanting
to do this?” she asked.

“A long time,” James answered as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.

“You ever fucked a black chick?” Viola asked, and the man shook his head.

“You ever been fucked by a white guy?” James asked, and it was Viola’s turn to shake her head. He grinned and knelt down by the couch, using his hands to push the short dress up over her hips, exposing her black lace thong. “A white guy ever eat your pussy?”
he
asked, and then before waiting for a response, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh. He nibbled there, plucking at her tender flesh with his perfect teeth.

He ran a finger along her slit, through the lace material of her panties, and then he hooked his finger around the crotch of her thong and pulled it to the side. He pushed his head in nearer to
her
and ran his tongue along her. She was wet, and he tasted her, lapping up her steamy juices. Viola groaned and leaned her head back. The tip of his tongue felt like bliss as it found the small knot of her clit, and sent waves of pleasure through her body. James was
good
, and it wasn’t long before she felt herself nearing orgasm, and then without warning she was coming, moaning aloud as a wave of pleasure built in her loins and then unleashed, spreading through her crotch and up into the pit of her stomach. James kept his tongue on her, his face buried between her legs until she
was done
, and then he leaned back and smiled in the soft light. Her juices made his skin slick around his mouth, but Viola didn’t protest when he grabbed her and pulled her upright on the couch so he could kiss her. She tasted
him,
she tasted herself, and she knew the night was just beginning.

Into the bedroom they went, and she sat on the edge of his massive bed as he opened the fly of his pants and pulled his throbbing cock out. She leaned forward, taking it into her mouth eagerly. He put both hands on her
head
and began to guide her. He had been loving, gentle, as he ate her out, but now he was fucking her mouth, his rigid member sliding in and out along her soft, plump lips. He pulled her toward him, burying his shaft into the back of her throat. He was large, his cock thick, and she was gagging, her eyes tearing up. Then he released her, and she pulled off of his cock, fighting to catch her breath. As she did
so,
he reached down and pulled her up. His hands ripped the front of the sexy little black dress down, exposing her large breasts.

He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, biting it softly. His hand was on her other breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Viola tilted her head back and moaned, and then she was moving again, James’ hands upon her, pushing her into position. He shoved her towards the bed, and then grabbed her hips and turned her over. She began to
rise up
onto her hands and knees, but
he
pushed her down with a grunt, so she lay flat. He lowered himself
upon
her, reaching down and sliding his cock inside of her. She was used to
doggystyle
, most men she dated or fucked enjoyed it since her ass was one of those asses,
big
and plump but firm, and most men liked grabbing it, or slapping it, or both. But she had never laid completely down on her stomach before, and she was worried he wouldn’t be able to get inside her at that odd angle, but he did. She kept her legs spread, and her fingers gripped his sheets, her knuckles turning white as her fists tightened with each thrust.

He leaned forward, his body resting against hers, pushing her down. She felt
submissive,
she felt used, and she liked it. He had taken care of her first after all, and now it was his turn, and she was happy to oblige. Besides, as he fucked her she felt the heat returning to her loins, and she came again before he had his chance. She yelled aloud, and he pressed his hand to her head, gripping her hair and pulling it roughly as she came. Within seconds of her
orgasm,
it was his turn, and his cock jumped inside her as he came, spraying his hot seed deep into her pussy.

“Fuck,” James said, as he pulled his slick dick out of her wet snatch, and she laughed and nodded. It had been a while since she felt so used, and she was hoping he would be up to using her again later that night.

It turned out he was, and he used her three more times before the Sun rose. She went home the next morning, early on Sunday. The limo wasn’t around, but James called a taxi for her, already paid with his credit card over the phone. They exchanged numbers, but Viola was half convinced it was going to be a
one-time
thing, and she was alright with that.

When she got
home,
she was pleasantly surprised to return to an empty home. Jerome
was gone
, along with most of his belongings. Viola showered and then took a nap. She hadn’t slept much the previous night.
She
was off on Sundays, and she slept until the late afternoon. When she woke
up,
Viola made a quick meal of a sandwich, and sat on her couch, flicking the TV on with the remote. She pulled her laptop onto her lap and opened it. She browsed through some
emails  and
then opened Facebook.

Viola was surprised to see she had a friend request,
and, even more,
surprised when she saw who it
was from
. She recognized the picture. He was older than she was but a bit younger than James. He was a
good looking
man with dark hair and dark eyes, with trendy glasses and a beard. His name was Martin Alven, and she recognized him, but couldn’t remember where. She accepted the friend request
anyways,
and then googled the name.

She realized why she recognized the man. He owned MAA, one of the largest record labels in the country. It
was,
of course, headquartered in New York.

But then a memory flashed through her brain, and she realized he seemed familiar for another reason to. Viola had met him, the night before, at the club. It was hazy, but she remembered he had been hitting on her, right in front of James. She
was pulled
out of the memory by a small chime, and there was a new message for her on Facebook. It was from Martin.

He wanted to know if she wanted to go out to dinner with him on Wednesday, but she worked then, and she replied with that.

How about tonight then?
he
asked through Facebook, and Viola waited for a moment, thinking. She had been on a date with a billionaire the night
before
and ended up at his lavish apartment, where he fucked her all night. Now another white billionaire was asking her to dinner. The day before, her jobless boyfriend of two years had broken up with her, and rebounding was the furthest thing from her mind. Still, you only live once, so she told Martin she would go with him.

He told her he would pick her up at
four,
since it was a bit of a drive, and Viola went to get ready. She dressed in her nicest dress, unsure of where exactly they would be going. She had given him her address, a little
self-conscious
about that, and at
four,
she was out in front of her building. With a
roar,
a red sports car entered the parking lot, the top down, a smiling Martin behind the wheel. He was tall and thin, with
an angular
body. He waited for her to get in, and then reached for her hand, took it, and kissed it. Viola smiled.

“I thought you were with James, but I had to ask you out. You are enchanting,” Martin said.

“You know James?”

“We run into each other,” Martin said, and then, as he pulled out of the parking lot, he laughed. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Maybe it’s because you hit on the girls he goes out with.”

“You guys are going out? Because here you are in my car.”

“Not
out out
,” Viola clarified. “He just took me out last night.”

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Martin asked as they drove, away from the city. Viola thought back to looking out the windows at James’ place and shook her head.

“Not really,” she said.

“Good,” Martin said, and just outside of the city they pulled into the parking lot of
a non-descript brown
building. As Martin pulled behind
it,
Viola saw that they were at a small airfield. A helicopter sat behind the
building
on a
minescule
tarmac
. A pilot was checking something at the front of the
helicopter
.

“Is this your helicopter?” Viola asked, suddenly realizing why he wanted to know if she was afraid of heights. She thought perhaps he was going to take her to a restaurant that sat at the top of a
building,
she had no idea he was flying her somewhere.

“Yeah,” Martin said, and he didn’t seem embarrassed about his wealth, the way James had. “One of the first things I bought when I got the money,” he added. “You ever been in one?”

“No,” Viola said.

“It’s a blast,” Martin said, and with ten minutes they were in the sky, and Viola had to agree, it
was pretty fun
. The helicopter rose and fell with wind drafts, and the ground whipped by beneath them. They flew for a little over an hour, and then they were setting down near the coast. A car was waiting for them there, not a limo, but a very nice sedan. There was no driver.

“I’m sure James had a limo for you,” Martin said, looking
to
the black woman slyly.

Viola laughed and nodded.

“I like to do my
own
driving,” Martin said, and he climbed behind the wheel. It was only a
ten-minute
drive, and then Martin was parking in a small lot, sparsely populated with other expensive looking cars. The lot was next to a dock, with row after row of massive yachts. Martin led her to one, where a small crew was preparing to launch.

“This is Captain Reynolds,” James said, introducing Viola to a tanned man with a thick M
editerranean
accent.

“It’s a pleasure, miss,” Reynolds said, and then he disappeared so he could ready the ship. Martin then led Viola to the deck, where
a woman in a crisp white uniform, identical
to the rest of the crew, stood waiting by two chairs. Beside her was chilled champagne and a platter of
hors
devours.

“Welcome, Mr. Alven,” the woman said.

“Thank
you,
Cindy,” Martin said. “This is Viola Turner.”

“Miss Turner.”

Viola found it strange that Cindy was calling her miss. She was just a waitress, more like Cindy the blonde bimbo than
Martin,
the billionaire. Cindy couldn't hide her shapely figure under the uniform, and Viola had a feeling that most trips on the boat, trips without a woman present, Cindy would be wearing something different. A bikini perhaps? Nothing?