All That He Demands (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 3) (2 page)

He roared with laughter.

“Well, I must say, they ARE quite wonderful, but that’s not what I meant,” he said, still laughing.

My heart fluttered again.

I would never,
ever
have described my boobs as ‘wonderful.’

So it made me feel awesome to hear him say it.

“Well, what do you mean, then?” I asked.

“Almost everyone I’ve ever known my entire life has been… it’s like they play a part around me. They hear the last name, and suddenly I’m somebody they have to impress, or get into my good graces, or win me over, or seduce me, or whatever… because they
want
something.”

I gave him a wry smile, raised an eyebrow, and dropped my eyes down to his thighs. “Well,
I
wanted something, too…”

He laughed again, then shook his head.

“Yeah,
not
like that. They want a piece of the power, or the prestige, or money, or influence, or God knows what… a little reflected light from whatever fantasy they attach to my family. They don’t want me, they want whatever they can get from me, whatever bit of the fairy tale they’ve concocted in their head. Most of the time, I can see them coming from a mile away…” Suddenly his face darkened. “…and sometimes they fool me until they’ve got their pound of flesh.”

I was about to ask what he meant, but his expression lightened and he continued. “You know the people I value the most?”

I shook my head ‘no.’

“The people who are real. Who treat me like Connor, not ‘Connor Templeton.’ Johnny… Sebastian… you.”

I gave him a sad smile. He sounded almost heartbreaking… like he was lonely… a little boy locked in a tower, with no one to trust.

I leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Thank you for telling me that,” I whispered.

“Thank you for being someone I could
tell
that to,” he whispered back, and kissed me softly on the lips.

A tiny whisper of a breath escaped from my lips, and I closed my eyes.

From there, it just happened naturally.

His lips brushed across mine, so soft and tender. A tiny kiss at the corner of my mouth, then back to my lips… then my cheek, light like a feather tickling against it… then a kiss on my chin, which he tilted up with his hand… and then back to my lips.

I moaned slightly, my eyes closed, and he took my mouth with his. His tongue softly parted my lips, then caressed me as he kissed me deeply, sensually.

His hand floated from my chin down to my shoulder, traced one finger along my arm, then slowly caressed my breast, his fingertips barely grazing my skin. He brushed the back of his finger light as silk over my nipple, and I felt it grow hard and stiff beneath his touch. A line of sweet pleasure pulsed directly down to my thighs, and I moaned as he kissed me harder.

I turned my body so I was facing him, and let my hands wander out – blind, since I still had my eyes closed as he continued to kiss me. My hands settled against his sides and slid along the carved muscles of his belly. I traced my fingers lightly across his skin, through a curly thatch of hair, until I found what I was looking for.

He was only halfway erect, and I softly took him in my hands, caressing him, stroking him, so softly, so gently. I still wasn’t used to the massiveness of him… just the sheer, solid
weight
of him. And it was growing bigger and heavier with each pulse of his heartbeat. I stroked his skin – softer than velvet, and scorching hot like a fever. His shaft came to life, straining against my touch, jerking away as contractions made him longer, harder, thicker by the second.

It was turning me on
so
much just to hold him, to feel him double in size as I stroked him lovingly.

He broke off our kiss and groaned softly in my ear, which made me hotter and wetter and need him even more.

Then he was gently lowering me down onto my back. I felt his weight on me, and his eyes gazed into mine as his hands softly pushed apart my legs. Then his body shifted as he positioned himself on top of me.

I gasped as the tip slowly entered me.

I closed my eyes, anticipating the pleasure of him filling me up –

“Don’t,” he whispered. “I want you to look at me.”

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me from just inches away. The intensity, the intimacy of his gaze took my breath away. He cradled my head gently in his hands and framed my face with his fingers, staring into my soul. All the while he moved deeper inside me, then pulled out slightly, then moved still deeper.

I tried to look at him the entire time, but pleasure overcame me. Sometimes my eyes would roll back in my head from the bliss building inside me, and I would struggle to come back to him, to stare into those beautiful blue eyes that watched me with so much passion, so much tenderness.

I could feel his hips rocking back and forth – not violently, not fast, just a slow and steady rhythmic movement that filled me up, that touched me so deeply, that glided inside me and made me cry out with pleasure.

I let my hands lightly glide over his back, then over his perfect ass. I clutched him tighter, feeling his muscles beneath my fingers, and I pulled him into me, forcing him deeper inside me, deeper than I thought possible, deeper than I thought I could bear, but wanting more of him, wanting him so deep that he would become
part
of me.

His thumbs lightly caressed my temples as his fingers stroked my hair. As he thrust deep inside me, his shaft so thick and feeling so
GOOD
,
he would place the smallest of kisses on my lips, his nose brushing mine, as he continued to stare into my eyes.

“Lily,” he murmured.

I moaned over and over, and clutched his muscular backside as he drove himself thicker and deeper and stronger inside me, slow and long and hypnotic.

“Lily,” he whispered, “I want you to do something for me.”

“What…” I breathed. The pleasure was building inside me, a deep, intense throbbing that felt like a giant wave was roaring in from far off in the distance.

“Promise me something…”

“Anything,” I moaned as I raked my fingers up his back to his shoulders.

“Look into my eyes when you come.”

That was all I could bear.

Just the words pushed me over the edge into ecstasy.

I screamed, and I felt the dam breaking.

I struggled to look at him, but it was like trying to stand upright on shifting sand as that giant wave crashed down on me. But I clung to his eyes like I was drowning, like they were the life raft that would save me.

Long, slow, overwhelming waves of pleasure pulsed through me, from between my thighs to every inch of my body, from my feet to my ears to my breasts to my fingers. I wrapped my legs around his calves, and my hands clutched his hair, and I hung on for dear life as I came over and over and over again, with his thickness filling me up past bearing, and his sweet, steady, powerful thrusts pushing wave after wave of bliss through my body.

Halfway through my orgasm,
he
got pushed over the edge, and I watched his face contort in pain and pleasure. Then I felt him spasm deep inside me as he half groaned and half shouted. My own pleasure doubled as I felt his hot wetness spurt deep inside me, with his already massive girth suddenly pulsing bigger, then receding, then bigger, then receding, and all the while he kept driving into me… and we kept staring into each other’s eyes, overcome by emotion, but still hanging on to each other in the middle of the storm.

And then it gradually subsided… and the waves of bliss became little shudders of pleasure… and then a delightful shiver… and then he collapsed on top of me, his face in the hollow of my shoulder and neck as I stroked his hair and softly kissed the side of his head.

I think he pulled out of me and we nestled against each other, our breath caressing each other’s skin as we lay there in each other’s arms…

I
think
, because about then my memory becomes hazy. I believe that was the point the wine and exhaustion took over.

The next thing I knew, my eyes were squinting open in pain.

The bedroom was dimly lit, with just a ghost of sunlight coming through those crazy sci-fi windows with the fade-up glass – but it felt like floodlights were aimed right at the back of my brain.

A voice was coming from the other room, indistinct and muted.

I looked over beside me and saw that Connor’s side of the bed was empty.

I could still smell the lingering scent of his cologne in the rumpled sheets, though.

Just beyond the bed, I saw a fancy digital clock on the nightstand.

10:14 AM.

Wow, it’s late…

While I lay there, I took stock of my current condition.

My head was pounding.

My lady parts were… ah,
tender,
shall we say.

My mouth felt like the Sahara.

And I had to pee like a mofo.

I crawled to the edge of the bed and forced myself up into a seated position with my legs off the edge of the bed.

Ugh.

The pounding in my head turned into a full-on, percussion-only symphony.

But the peeing would not be denied.

I stumbled over to the palatial bathroom and turned on the light.

OWWWW.

Too bright, so I turned it back off and stumbled over to the toilet.

I was just about to sit down when I realized the bathroom door was wide open.

I sprinted over to the door, closed it, and shuffled my way back over in the dark. No
way
I was turning the light back on. There was just enough glow from the crack under the door to make sure I didn’t face-plant on the floor – or worse, in the toilet.

While I sat there on the throne, I gave thanks that at least I wasn’t nauseated. I hadn’t drunk
that
much wine… I mean… three glasses, maybe?

But no other water since… four or five o’clock the evening before?

God, no wonder I had a throbbing headache.

After I was finished, I lurched over to the sink, opened the door to let in a little light, and looked at myself in the mirror.

Oh.

My.

GOD.

And
not
in a good way.

My hair looked like a bird’s nest. And the bird was on LSD. My eyes were swollen, my eye makeup was smeared, I had little red lines on my skin from the creases in the sheets…

Please God, I hope he didn’t see me this… way…

Memories from the night before came flooding back:

The boardroom.

Out on the street, him asking me to come with him.

The limo ride.

The Dubai lobby.

The dinner.

The poker game.

Him taking me against the glass window, then carrying me to bed.

Doing it a third time.

And finding out his real last name.

“Oh my God,” I moaned.

I can’t even begin to accurately describe my emotional state at that moment.

There was the amazing flood of hormones from the memories of sex…

…and the disbelief that I had done what I did.

This was
sooooo
not like me.

I’d never had a one-night stand before in my
life.

Not that I wanted this to be a one-night stand. Far from it.

But – I mean – I just don’t meet a guy and fall into bed with him on the first date. That’s not me.

Obviously it is,
a snarky little voice in my head said disapprovingly.
And you didn’t fall into bed with him, you fell onto the boardroom carpet with him.

And it wasn’t exactly a ‘date.’

Yes it was!
I screamed back silently.
It totally was! There was lobster, and filet mignon, and wine, and heavenly dessert…

…just… AFTER the sex…

…the first round of sex, anyway…

Add to that the fact he was CONNOR TEMPLETON.

Billionaire.

I felt like I had somehow stumbled into the pages of a tabloid magazine you see by the checkout in grocery stories.

Ordinary Chick Sleeps With Scorching Hot Billionaire Playboy!

Three times!

There was fear, disbelief, a little bit of guilt – did I really give it up
that
easy? – and the overwhelming feeling that I didn’t belong, that I was out of my league, that I needed to get out of there as fast as I humanly could.

And the horror that the hottest man I’d ever seen in person had seen me like
this.

Whacked-out bedhead, puffy eyes, smeared makeup, little red creases everywhere.

I put my hand in front of my mouth and puffed out, tried to smell it.

I couldn’t tell, but I’m sure it was dragon breath from the pit of hell.

Oh God, oh God, I hope he didn’t try to kiss me while I was asleep…

I tried to talk myself down as I unwrapped a toothbrush on the counter and squeezed out some mint toothpaste from the mini-tube next to it.

One nice thing about this place was they had
everything.
So much better than scrubbing your teeth with a bare finger.

I also drank down about five glasses of water, I was so thirsty.

After I was sure I didn’t smell like a corpse flower anymore (see, super nerdy to the end), I looked at myself in the mirror and decided,
No, this will NOT do.

I locked the door… thought about it for a second… then unlocked it and left it slightly ajar.

Just in case… y’know… somebody wanted to join me…

I was a little disappointed when he didn’t, but the shower was heavenly just the same.

It took me a minute in my addled state to figure out which handle went to which nozzle, but when I did, OH MY GOD.

At first I tried the two heads pointing down from opposite angles.

Then I tried the overhead showerhead, the three-foot diameter one. It was like standing in the middle of a rainforest downpour – but a nice, you-choose-the-temperature, bug-free rainforest downpour.