Resisting the Billionaire Collection (8 page)

"I knew you were the one as soon as I saw
you." He said, almost in a whisper.

Melanie's breath quickened, her generous
cleavage heaving under the gleaming white and blue of her
uniform.

"This is crazy. Just too crazy." She
said.

Take me. For God's sake, just take me now!
She thought.

The plane bucked again and threw him across
the bed and on top of her. Their eyes locked for one endless moment
as the plane banked and tossed in the air, the heat of their gaze
melting the distance between them. She felt the scorch of his
passion throbbing against her thigh.

Take me now. I'm yours.

She couldn't bear to say the words but in
her mind, she was screaming.

He looked at her as though she were his
already, as though she were a priceless possession. The feeling was
exhilarating. It went against her nature to be desired in that way,
but it excited her all the more because of it.

His lips pressed against hers, devouring,
exploring. Her mound throbbed with desire and moisture flowed as
she arched her back and pressed herself to him, abdomen to abdomen,
pubis to pubis, fighting, struggling to reach a crescendo of
pleasure, screaming to come closer together.

He was tall, strong, and the largest man she
had ever lain with, in every way overwhelming to all of her senses.
Again, the plane was banking and rolling but she didn't care. They
tossed in the bed and before she knew it, she was on top of him,
but not for long. His huge hands took her, one around her ass and
the other at her neck, flipping her over to her back again and
pinning her to the bed.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

She still couldn't say the words. He still
didn't have her verbal permission, but he was taking her anyway. If
her lips were silent, her body was begging him to go further. He
was astride her now and carefully, methodically began unbuttoning
her blouse. It was strange and exciting to see this bear of a man
so meticulously undress her, one tiny delicate button at a time.
She could feel his hunger mounting and see it in the swelling bulge
between his legs. But he knew how to wait and take his pleasure
slowly.

God, was she already coming? She could feel
waves of pleasure in her own body begin to rise at first like tiny
ripples, but then like ocean swells coming ashore, a tsunami of
desire lifting up and increasingly asking for more.

Nobody had ever taken her like this before,
and certainly not with her clothes still on.

Her blouse was open and her bare abdomen and
bosom lay before him, scantily concealed by her bra, her heaving
cleavage squeezed together like pure, soft apples of desire.

"Yes." He growled.

The plane bucked but he held her in place
with his huge thighs, consuming her with his dark, intense
gaze.

"Now you are mine." His voice was low and
intent.

This was what she had truly wanted since
that first kind smile of his as he had scooped her fallen hat from
the floor in the airport.

"It's too wrong." She said.

He ignored her. His thick fingers expertly
undid the clasp at the front of her bra and carefully opened it to
reveal her taut nipples and heaving breasts.

"I don't know why Alex. Please, this is
wrong." She still didn't know why, but her gut was telling her to
hold back.

What was he going to do next?

"I knew it." He said.

Knew what?

"I knew you were perfect the moment I laid
eyes on you." His voice was so low, like the growl of an animal
consumed with lust. His eyes ran up and down her exposed body and
then his hands moved lower to her belt, carefully undoing the
buckle, then snapping the belt out in one deft powerful movement,
the tip just lightly stinging her wrist as it came out, adding to
her growing excitement.

The waves were coming regularly now and her
body was beginning to undulate, pulsating into the soft but firm
bed below her. He was going to make her come, as no man had ever
done before.

The truth was that although Melanie had
several long-term boyfriends, none of them had ever really known
how to touch her. She had experienced orgasms all right, regularly
for years, but only ever in the company of her battery-operated
best friend from the Adam and Eve catalog. Unlike her human
companions, her mechanical one had rarely let her down. Not until
recently, though. No amount of hammering away on her bulb had
seemed to give her pleasure anymore. To look at someone as slender,
charming, and beautiful as Melanie, no one in their wildest dreams
would ever have guessed that her love life could be at such an
all-time low.

Until now.

She opened her eyes to get relief from the
relentless barrage of pleasure that wracked every fiber of her
being. Alex drew her skirt down to her ankles and then slipped it
off. The plane wobbled again and he stumbled as he folded it and
placed it across the back of a chair. He took such good care of her
clothes, unlike Mitch, who would just tear at her like an idiot,
never able to figure out how to get things open or closed and then
leave everything in a crumpled heap.

When Alex turned to her again, he looked
like a god ready to take a mortal woman into the lair of his
desire.

"You're naked." He reminded her. "Now stay
still. You are mine until I release you. This has to be perfect,
for you and for me. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head but she didn't
understand at all. There was no way this could become any more
perfect than it already was. If she experienced any more pleasure,
she might inflict some kind of medical injury upon herself.

She was willing to take the risk.

Only with him -- with Alex -- the first man
who had ever...

When the plane bucked again, it was like
nothing she had ever felt before, not in all her years as a flight
attendant. She felt a jolt of terror for the first time as she
floated from the bed into thin air.

They were in freefall, maybe even
nose-diving. Alex floated in the air beside her with a look of grim
determination and frustrated desire on his face as he reached for
her. It was as though the fall of the plane meant nothing to him.
He was bare-chested with a thin, glistening slick of wet desire
covering his taut muscles.

He obviously still intended to screw her if
he could before they hit the ground, one last monumental fuck
before slamming into the earth below.

Melanie reached out her arms to him just as
the plane righted itself. Suddenly she was on him again, her vulva
pounding down onto his sculpted washboard six-pack, her breasts in
his face.

Immediately he put his hands to her waist
and drew her down, his hungry mouth, tongue, and lips feeding on
her breasts and sending bolts of ecstasy through her entire
body.

"Fuck me!" She screamed at the top of her
voice. "Fuck me now, as hard as you can!"

His body thrust up against hers, his cock
straining through the fabric of his jeans as it struggled to reach
her hot, wet valley.

The pilot’s voice came over the PA.

"Shit." He said. "We're going down. You guys
better strap yourselves in, this is going to get mighty hairy."

The plane began to descend fast now and the
look in Alex's eyes changed from raw desire to pure concern. He
leaped from the floor, grabbed Melanie's clothes, and helped her to
get dressed as the plane picked up speed in its descent.

They didn't say a word to each other but
both felt it, the longing, and the fear that this would already be
the end when they had only just met. Lovers, torn apart in the
instant of their first meeting, their first sweet tryst of hot
desire thwarted.

He strapped her into one of the seats and
then took his place beside her, holding her small hand in his own.
Somehow, against all reason she still felt safe in his hands, even
in a jet plummeting into the Pacific Ocean.

If these were the last moments of her life
well at least she had found true love in them. Alex smiled at her
and through the groaning of the fuselage and strain of the engines
tried to reassure her.

"Don't worry sweetheart. Alex is a great
pilot. The best there is. Way better even than me."

Alex is a great pilot?

She looked at the man next to her again.
There was no way to tell the difference between the two to them. If
Alex was in the cockpit then that meant she had just given herself
to...

Oh my God, what have I done?

Her hand began to tremble as Sebastian
closed his large protective fist around her fingers. He smiled and
gave her a long, loving, reassuring look as the plane descended. He
said one more thing but she couldn't hear the words and then
everything went black.

Chapter Eight

Blue skies, lapping waves. For what seemed like a
long time, Melanie lay in the warm sand. She didn't want to think
about where she was and she certainly didn't want to move. The
heaviness across her waist made her look down. A tanned and
muscular arm draped across her and the strong fingers of a male
hand rested lightly against her lower abdomen.

Was she on vacation? She had no earthly idea
where she was or who she was with.

The arm didn't look like her boyfriend’s, no
wait… her ex-boyfriend Mitch’s arm. It was too strong, too tanned,
and too well-defined.

Melanie moved her head and it began to
pound. Panic set in.

She looked around her and all she could see
was sandy beach, brilliant aquamarine sea, and azure blue
skies.

"Oh my God, where am I? What the hell have I
done?" She whispered.

She turned her head to look at the rest of
the man attached to the arm around her waist.

"Jesus Christ." She had no recollection, no
recognition of the beautiful stranger. He looked as exhausted as
she felt. His clothes were ragged, and so were hers. She pulled his
arm from her, scrambling to get up but her head was too woozy and
she landed back on her ass. She was wearing only her bra and her
skirt had been torn away, leaving most of her thighs exposed.

The ridiculously handsome stranger opened
his eyes, looked at her intently for a moment, and then sprang to
life.

"Melanie!" he said. His voice was full of
concern.

"How do you know my name?" She said.

"What do you mean? We were on the flight
together--"

"What flight? Who are you?"

"It's me, Alex your..." His voice trailed
off.

"My what?" A feeling of dread came over her,
that name -- it meant something.

He put his hands to her shoulders but she
shrugged them off. "Get away from me! I need to know how I got
here."

"Melanie, we were in a plane crash. You and
I are the only ones that made it."

Her breathing became rapid. She remembered
that she was a flight attendant with Drummond Airlines.

"How many people are dead? How many people
were on the flight?"

"There were just three of us."

"That doesn't make sense. I work passenger
flights--"

"Just three crew on a small plane. You and I
are the only ones alive."

"Where are we?"

"I'm not sure exactly. We were flying to
Tahiti when we went down, so we're somewhere in the South
Pacific."

"Why did you have your arm around me?"

He looked at her intensely, his thoughts
hidden under his dark brows.

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"The plane ditched into the sea but the
fuselage gave way. The plane separated into two sections. I was in
the cockpit and you were in the living area with Sebastian. I found
you floating face down in the water. I barely made it to shore with
you."

She shook her head, thinking he could have
been inventing the whole thing.

"How about this Sebastian guy?"

"I couldn't find him... there was no
trace."

"Who was he?"

Alex fought strong emotions as he looked
down into the sand. When he looked up again he had recovered
himself.

"Don't worry about him. There's nothing we
can do for him now. What's the last thing you remember before
waking up on the beach?"

Her sense of panic hadn't subsided. She was
trembling as she tried to draw the shredded strands of her memories
together.

"I'm a flight attendant." She said. The man
nodded. "I was... I was in bed with Mitch."

"Who's Mitch?" Alex said.

Melanie hesitated. The guy in front of her
seemed angry, jealous if she didn't know better.

"My boyfriend. Mitch McGovern. I went back
to his place after my last flight from Columbus to LA."

"Since when?"

"Not long; about six months." She put her
hands to her mouth in shock.

"What is it Melanie? What's wrong?"

"No! No, no, no, no. Shit."

Alex moved closer to her again but she
pulled away. The memories were coming back: the underwear under the
bed, the baseball bat.

"That bastard." She said.

"Did he do something to you?" Alex was a
ball of rage, full of protective concern. Melanie couldn't hold
back. She buried her head in her knees and began to shudder as the
sobs came out. She felt Alex's big, protective arm wrap around her
and this time she didn't pull away.

"Don't worry, baby." He whispered to her.
"I'll make everything good. I promise you."

"Get away from me. I don't even know who you
are." She didn't move though. The strong arm around her felt too
good. She hadn't cried about breaking up with Mitch -- at least she
couldn't remember having cried and she needed to now.

"It's okay Alex whispered. You just tell me
what he did to you and I'll make sure he gets what's coming to
him."

She lifted her head, fought back the tears,
and pushed the stranger's arm away.

"It's okay. He already did. I don't need you
to fight my battles for me… whoever you are."