4 The Billionaire's Seduction All That He Requires Read online

  But before I could do anything, I felt his hands grasp my arms and pull me gently to my feet.

  “…hey,” I protested sleepily.

  “Later,” he purred in my ear. “After our nap.”

  Without the glorious sight of his manhood in front of me, I was easily distracted.

  “…okay…” I yawned.

  There came the sounds of fabric moving, and then Connor swept me up again like a doll and laid me in bed. The softest sheets I’d ever felt caressed my skin. They were cool to the touch, and a shiver ran through me.

  Then the mattress dipped as Connor climbed in next to me and nuzzled against my body. He radiated warmth. I turned towards him like a plant does toward the sun, and nestled my head against his powerful chest.

  He stroked my hair and whispered into my ear, “Sleep.”

  And as his strong arms enveloped me… I did.

  7

  I awoke with no idea of where I was or what time it was.

  I opened my eyes halfway. I was on the edge of the bed, facing outwards. Dim shapes of furniture lined the room, but I couldn’t see a clock or a window or anything that might tell me whether it was day or night.

  As I lay there in a muddled haze of brain fog, I replayed the last events I could remember, though they were like images from a fading dream:

  Connor carrying me into the room…

  …slowly undressing me…

  …me pulling off his underwear…

  At that particular memory, something inside me woke up a little bit more.

  I turned over in the bed.

  There he was a few feet away, lying on his back, one arm sprawled above his head, eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

  Perfection.

  I began to remember everything: the screaming match with Klaus… finding out my car had been towed… bursting into tears in the parking deck… Connor driving up… his impassioned speech… me crying in the car… his kissing my hand… the conversation with Johnny over the phone… the feeling of Connor’s strong arms encircling me… the spectacle we must have made as he carried me inside the hotel…

  None of that mattered.

  I listened to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, and was happy just to be lying there beside him.

  I was at peace.

  And then my eyes wandered.

  At first down to his pecs. Bronzed, massive, powerful.

  Then to his washboard abs, which slowly moved up and down in time with his breathing.

  And finally to the silken bed sheet, which lay draped across his lower abdomen, as though someone had positioned it there out of modesty…

  …but had failed to completely cover everything.

  I could see the curve of one hip, and the muscles at the top of his thigh.

  I so wanted to see more.

  I glanced at his face. He looked so calm and peaceful… I didn’t want to disturb him.

  …but I did want a peek.

  I probably lay there for a full minute debating it in my head. Leave him alone and let him sleep, or peek under the sheet and potentially wake him up?

  If it had been any of my previous boyfriends, I absolutely would have let them sleep.

  Not that I wasn’t concerned about Connor getting enough rest. I was.

  It’s just that, if it had been any of my exes lying there next to me, I wouldn’t have been that interested in what was under the sheet.

  I wouldn’t have had the same hunger that gnawed at me now.

  I reached out my hand.

  I probably shouldn’t have. I suppose it was selfish… just because I was hot and bothered as I lay there looking at him…

  …but I rationalized it by thinking that most guys would love getting woken up to have sex, even if they were dead tired.

  And I made an agreement with my libido that if I did wake him up, I’d do something extra nice for him.

  What that would be – more ‘nice’ than what I’d done over the last couple of days – I didn’t know.

  But I figured we could hash it out.

  My heart was hammering as my hand lightly grasped the sheet above his hips. I kept glancing at his face, worried that my slightest movements would wake him.

  It felt so naughty.

  Spying on him when he wasn’t able to say ‘no’…

  …about to uncover him…

  I mean, you’d think it wouldn’t be that big a deal. I’d seen ‘it’ before.

  Ha! BOY had I seen it before.

  But I soooo wanted to see it again.

  And I kind of wanted to do it especially because he couldn’t say no…

  …and because he was asleep…

  …and because it was naughty.

  I know, I know. I’m vanilla. Simple pleasures for simple minds.

  But that didn’t change the thrill that I felt, or the fact that my heart was hammering in my chest.

  I gently lifted the sheet away from his body, watching his face to see if he stirred.

  He didn’t.

  I pulled the sheet back and immediately my mouth began to water.

  His manhood lay thick and long, draped over his muscular thigh. Even limp, it was huge. And beautiful, like no other I had ever seen before. Pink and wonderfully proportioned, like the most lovely sculpture you’ve ever seen of one.

  (I’m sure most guys would looooove hearing their units called ‘lovely.’ Makes me think I should be saying it with a British accent. ‘My, but your thing is lovely.’)

  I’ve said before that I normally don’t find them attractive. I usually think they’re just funny-looking, and occasionally downright repulsive. I never cared that much for my exes’ (other than, you know, during sex), and I certainly didn’t enjoy the ones I’d seen in the few porno clips my college boyfriend had cajoled me into watching (usually with my fingers in front of my eyes).

  But Connor’s… I could have lain there all day just looking at it.

  If I didn’t want to touch it so badly.

  See? That’s how it all starts. First you want a peek. Then you want to touch…

  And oh my GOD I wanted to touch.

  I watched his face again for any indication he was going to wake up, but he seemed to still be lost in deep sleep, so I gently lowered the sheet, letting it settle in folds on his thighs.

  Then it took me another minute to work up the courage to reach out and touch it.

  I felt doubly naughty.

  I kept looking at his face, seeing if his eyes would open and he would frown at me.

  I was SLEEPING, I kept imagining him say.

  I know he probably wouldn’t do that… but I was still afraid.

  And my heart was still hammering in my chest.

  But I wanted to stroke it so bad.

  I reached out with a few faltering stops and starts, and then finally touched it.

  So warm and soft…

  I traced my fingertip along its considerable length, glancing at his face every few seconds to see if he would wake.

  He didn’t.

  But something else did.

  His shaft began to slowly thicken and grow, expanding, getting larger by the second. I was touching him so lightly… but that was enough. I brushed my fingers over the little ridge of skin beneath the head, and his cock began to harden even faster. I lightly stroked his balls, watching as the skin reacted and shifted beneath my touch.

  And every few seconds, I cast a glance up at his face.

  His lips had opened the tiniest bit more, and I could hear his breathing quicken. His head moved a bit to the side.

  Something was going on.

  Pleasant dreams of me, hopefully.

  I crept forward the tiniest bit, my face drawing close to his cock, but not touching it, as I stared up at him.

  His lips moved once, but he never opened his eyes.

  I was so close to his shaft, I could feel my breath bouncing off his skin and gently tickling under my nose. His warmth radiated out to me.

 
Watching his face the entire time, I kissed his cock.

  It moved at my touch, and his shaft pressed against my lips.

  His mouth dropped open even more, and the muscles of his face twitched.

  Watching him continuously, careful not to disturb the mattress any more than necessary, I stuck out my tongue the tiniest bit and traced from his balls, all the way up his shaft, to the tight and swollen head.

  A low, guttural moan escaped his throat.

  He was rock-hard, his erection straining away from his body.

  God I was so wet.

  I wanted him so badly.

  I kept softly licking and kissing, watching his face for a sign… but other than frowns of frustrated pleasure, he wasn’t waking up.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  Damn it, I had to have him inside me.

  This time I fully rationalized it away: what guy wouldn’t want to wake up – not just to sex, but to a woman already pleasuring him?

  Like she couldn’t wait?

  Hey – had to be good for his ego, right?

  But I didn’t just want to pleasure him.

  I wanted to pleasure me.

  Using him.

  Still, my heart was thudding in my chest as I slowly shifted my weight and knelt beside him. I tried to be as slow and still as I could, but the bed moved slightly.

  Yet he continued to lay there, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow and fast.

  His arms were either above his head or level with his shoulders, so that at least helped with what I was planning to do.

  I lifted one leg up in the air, slowly, sloooowly – wished I had followed through on last year’s New Year’s Resolution and actually gotten a gym membership – and then somewhat gracefully got it over his body. Then I settled down to my knees.

  My legs were straddling him now. Though I was trying to keep as much weight off him as possible, it was only half-working.

  But he still hadn’t woken up yet.

  Damn he’s a sound sleeper…

  I could feel the scorching heat of his cock against my upper thigh, both hard (his erection) and soft (his skin) at the same time.

  I put my hands on the bed next to his ribs, shifted my weight to all fours, and then slowly… slowly… lowered my pelvis, trying to angle him inside me without having to take his shaft in my hand.

  There.

  The tip of his cock.

  It rubbed against my wet lips.

  Ohhhhhhh my GOD.

  My own breath was ragged now, strained with anticipation.

  Should I ease down on him, and see how long it took to wake him?

  Or should I plunge down on him all at once, and wake him with a shock?

  (Considering how large he was, I might be in for the bigger shock, actually.)

  And then my conscience piped up for a last minute legal disclaimer.

  This isn’t… BAD, is it? Like… non-consensual… right? I mean… he’d LIKE this, right?

  I mean… I’D like it, if the positions were reversed…

  (oh hell YES I would)

  But… would I like it in all situations?

  I bit my lip, trying to figure out exactly what I should do. I just kind of rocked there, feeling his swollen head almost enter me, but not quite, in a kind of delicious torture…

  I wanted it so bad… but now that I was here at the final stretch, I wasn’t sure I should go all the way…

  And then one of his eyebrows raised, the eye beneath it opened halfway, and he looked right at me.

  “Lily, you’re killing me. Just DO it.”

  I gasped. “You big FAKER!”

  He burst out laughing. “Well, if you didn’t take so damn long – ”

  “Oh yeah?!” I cried out. “Well, this is what I do to fakers!”

  And I plunged down on him in one gorgeous, golden stroke.

  Well… halfway down, anyway.

  I was already drenched from the constant anticipation over the last ten minutes. Thank God for all that lubrication, or it wouldn’t have worked otherwise. Or would have been rather painful.

  As it was, it was just glorious instead.

  Now it was his turn to be surprised.

  His mouth formed an ‘O,’ and both eyes opened wide.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned.

  I think that pretty much mirrored my sentiments, although I wasn’t thinking too clearly.

  I was vaguely aware of an animal-like moan coming from deep inside me.

  Every time Connor had entered me before, he’d eased inside me slowly.

  Now, with my body at the nervous peak of anticipation, him slipping inside me – and so deep inside me – so fast –

  Whoa.

  I didn’t come, but I was getting there quick.

  He raised his head and brought his hands down to my waist, as though to grab me –

  “Hold it,” I commanded, and grabbed both his wrists before he could touch me.

  If he’d wanted to put his hands on my waist, there was nothing on God’s green earth I could have done to stop him… but he yielded and just stared up at me.

  “Fakers don’t get to run the show,” I said as I held onto his wrists.

  He swallowed hard. “Fine – just, for God’s sake,” he whispered urgently, “do something.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, and held onto his arms for leverage.

  And then I raised up slowly, an inch or two… and slowly lowered myself down, taking an extra inch of him inside me.

  Then I raised myself up, feeling his wet skin slide inside me…

  And then I slowly rocked back down, taking another inch or more.

  Much thicker.

  Filling me up.

  I slid back up along his length – which was already fairly deep inside me – and plunged down hard and fast.

  Another inch.

  He just kept getting bigger the further I went.

  The entire time he kept his neck strained so that his head was upright, and he stared right between my thighs, attention rapt, watching as my lips enveloped his shaft.

  I realized we hadn’t done this position yet. He’d never seen me… um… quite this way.

  I got a little self-conscious.

  A little embarrassed.

  A little worried.

  Then my interior You go, girl! voice spoke up.

  Fuck THAT noise, it said.

  After all, Connor had seen me a lot closer up.

  He’d, ahem, put his tongue in an even more unusual place.

  And his expression right now was akin to Indiana Jones’s the first time he saw the Ark of the Covenant.

  (Yes, I’m a nerd.)

  “You like what you see?” I whispered as I rocked up and paused.

  “Yes,” he answered with a strangled voice.

  I paused… for a second… two seconds…

  “Good,” I said, as I plunged all the way down on his cock.

  “Oh God,” he groaned.

  I gave a little cry as my ass smacked his pelvis and he touched me deep inside.

  Still using his upheld arms as leverage – which he was keeping straight and strong as bedposts – I raised my body up, up, up, until I was almost sure he was going to slide out of me… paused at the top…

  “Lily, please,” he begged.

  And then I plunged back down.

  Smack.

  We both cried out at the same time.

  Again I went up, up, up, all the way to the tip… paused… then plunged down – but only three or four inches. I bobbed up and down, alternating, up to the top, sliding five inches down his cock, up to the top, two inches down, back up again, then plunged down, taking his entire length inside me with a smack of our flesh together.

  He was panting and groaning the entire time, never quite sure if I was going to just tease him a little, or take him fully inside me.

  Then I decided I wanted to do a little something specifically for me.

  With his cock all the way inside me, I bega
n to grind my hips around, using his amazing girth, pressing his thickness against every spot that felt good, gyrating my hips, feeling every inch of him fill me up.

  “Let me touch you,” he begged in a strangled voice.

  I kept hold of his wrists, but I didn’t put up any resistance as his hands moved in and grabbed my breasts – softly at first, then firmer, until he was groping me, rubbing me, his fingers rolling and pinching my nipples between his fingertips.

  It just added gasoline to the fire.

  I leaned forward, putting more pressure exactly where I wanted it, feeling the rigidness of his shaft stroking me inside, in just the right spot.

  Sweet heat and pleasure built faster and faster between my legs.

  I closed my eyes and began to grind harder, feeling him touching every part of me, pressing against me, against my lips, against the spot inside me that was growing hotter and hotter with every second.

  My body bucked against his hips, and I couldn’t contain it anymore – the pleasure was too sweet, and like a flood it spread out through my stomach and up through my spine and I cried out, over and over, as I came, squeezing him tight, feeling him thick and hard and massive inside me with every jolt of pleasure, over and over and over.

  I was panting and my skin was glistening with a light sheen of sweat when the waves of bliss subsided and I finally opened my eyes.

  He was staring up at me.

  “Wow,” he grinned.

  “You like that?” I smiled back, then closed my eyes as one more aftershock rippled through my body.

  “That was quite a show.”

  I started moving up and down the length of his shaft again, softly, slowly. “And what can I do for you?”

  “Come down here, for starters,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

  Then he reached up, grabbed me by the shoulders, and forced my body down against his.

  I gave a little gasp, but that was quickly stifled as he put his hands in my hair, pulled my head down to his, and kissed me passionately.

  Ahhhhhh.

  His tongue played with mine, his lips rubbing wetly against mine in a steamy kiss – but all the while he stayed still from the waist down.

  Until his hands crept down my back and cupped each of my cheeks, one in each hand.

  Then he lifted my ass a little as we continued to kiss – and then plunged me back down on him.

  Oh.

  He began to move me – not against my will, but with no real effort on my part – up and down, my breasts rubbing against his firm chest, the sweat of our bodies easing the friction. And as he moved me down, he began to thrust his hips up, so that my body began to plunge down on him more vigorously, and his massive girth filled me up totally and completely with a jolt as our hips smacked against each other.