“What, besides the fact that they’re unsettling?”
“No – about the technical information attached to the phone texts.”
“They said there’s nothing they can use. They said he covered his tracks incredibly well.”
“What else?”
“There
is
nothing else, so far as I know.”
He kisses my ear, and a thrill of pleasure shoots up my body.
“There’s
nothing
else you know about why he’s after you?” I ask as he starts caressing my breast.
“Nope,” he says, and nibbles my earlobe.
“That’s
insane.
”
“Yep.”
He starts kissing my neck. I squirm, totally turned on again.
“You’re not worried at
all?”
“Not at the moment, seeing as he’s not on the plane.”
“But – ”
“Later,” and he takes away my champagne glass and sets it on the table next to the bed.
I find out that a trip from LA to New York goes a whole lot faster when you have a
ton
of great sex along the way.
The light is fading as we land in New York a few hours (and many orgasms) later. I can barely look the stewardess and pilot in the eyes as we disembark, though I mutter my thanks as Grant tells them ‘great job.’
A limo is waiting for us at the airstrip. As we disembark, a dignified-looking man in his 50’s is already loading my suitcase into the trunk.
“Mr. Carlson,” the man says with a British accent.
“Hodge,” Grant says. “This is Eve Saunders. She’ll be staying with me for awhile.”
“Ms. Saunders,” Hodge says with a little bow at the neck. “A pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and manage to look him in the eye, since he has no knowledge of the naughty, naughty things I did back on the plane.
The limo ride is pretty cool. As we drive through the streets of Manhattan, Grant points out major buildings and talks about their architectural significance. I’ve been to New York multiple times, but I never stopped to think about all the history of the buildings around me.
It’s funny how impassioned he is about everything around us. He’s like a teenager geeking out on comic books or superhero movies – except that he’s talking about old buildings.
Best tour guide ever.
Hottest tour guide ever, too.
Finally we arrive at a massive skyscraper overlooking Central Park. The limo stops in front of it, and Hodge opens my door.
I thank him and ask Grant, “You live here?”
“I don’t just live here – I designed it.”
Of
course
he did.
The lobby is a plush marvel, with black tile floors, tables full of flower arrangements, and soaring columns that reach up to a 30-foot-high ceiling. We walk past a phalanx of security guards, who all greet Grant as ‘Mr. Carlson.’
Then we step into the elevator, where Grant hits the top button. ‘P.’
“You live in the penthouse?!” I exclaim.
He smiles. “Yes.”
Duh.
I keep forgetting he’s a billionaire.
Which I
try
to keep forgetting, because it’s kind of freaking me out.
The elevator whisks us to the top in record time, where we step out into a hallway that’s just as beautifully decorated as the lobby. Two guards who look like Secret Service men – black suits, sunglasses, radio earpieces – are standing by the front door. They greet Grant as ‘Mr. Carlson,’ too, as we walk past.
“How many people do you have guarding you?” I ask.
“A lot. I
do
have a psychopath after me, remember?”
He gives me a tour of the penthouse, which is absolutely gorgeous. It encompasses the entire top floor of the building – thousands and thousands of square feet – with multiple rooms, all designed and decorated differently. There’s a dining room with a twenty-person table and soaring ceilings. A cozy study with wood paneling and hundreds of books, many of them on architecture. A patio outside with an infinity pool, jacuzzi, and a small grove of trees. A den with leather sofas and chairs and an 80-inch HD television on one wall. And then there’s the bedroom, with a California king-sized bed and the plushest carpet I’ve ever sunk my feet into.
The one thing all the rooms have in common are twenty-foot tall windows, with an absolutely breathtaking view of the New York skyline. Well – all except for the patio. No windows there, just the warm summer air and a 180 degree view.
“You can put your things in here,” Grant says, pointing me to a closet that is bigger – and waaaay better furnished – than my entire apartment back in Los Angeles. Three-panel, full-length mirrors. Mahogany wardrobes. Floor-to-ceiling shoe racks.
“It’s good to be a billionaire,” I murmur in shock.
“Yes it is,” Grant agrees as he circles my waist from behind, then kisses my neck.
Just as I’m getting into it, he releases me.
“Dinner first,” he says mischievously, and leaves me to unpack in the cavernous closet.
Dinner is absolutely amazing. We dine at a small table on the patio under the rising moon. We drink the most delicious wine I’ve ever tasted and sample several entrees – filet mignon, duck, sea bass.
“Do you have a cook who fixed this?” I marvel.
“Well, I
do
have a chef, but he’s got the week off. I ordered this from Le Meilleur.”
I drop my fork. ‘Le Meilleur’ is the best new restaurant in New York.
I’m kind of a foodie, too, FYI.
“You got this from Le Meilleur?”
“Yeah.”
“What – somebody ordered it and picked it up?”
“Naaah, they ran it over.”
“They ‘ran it over,’” I repeat in shock. “A five-star restaurant ‘ran it over.’”
Grant shrugs. “I’m good friends with the owner.”
Of course.
By the end of the meal, I’m tipsy and we’re playing footsy under the table.
“Want to go for a swim?” Grant suggests.
“I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”
“You don’t need a swimsuit.”
Heat flushes across my chest. “You want to
skinny dip?”
He grins, amused by my surprise. “Why not?”
“What about all those guards?”
“They’re not in the penthouse, they’re outside in the hallway.”
I stop and think for a moment. “…why not?”
We laugh and kiss and stumble our way to the pool, shedding clothes as we go. His hands roam over my body, caressing me, cupping my breasts, slipping between my thighs as we kiss furtively, then undress some more.
We drop the last of our clothes and stand there naked by the edge of the pool. I reach between his legs. His cock, which was maybe a quarter of the way hard (and still a handful), begins to grow in my grasp. It’s incredibly sexy feeling him getting larger and harder by the second, growing heavier and hotter as his cock expands. Within thirty seconds he’s standing up as straight as an iron bar. I gently move my hand up and down his shaft, feeling his heartbeat pulse in my grip.
Then he pushes me in the water.
“AAAAAHH!” I scream as the world goes topsy-turvy around me. A rush of warm water – not chilly, but warm – envelops my body and head. I come up sputtering just in time to see him doubled over laughing by the poolside.
“YOU ASSHOLE!” I yell at him.
“I had to do it – oh my God – your face – ”
“FUCK YOU!” I half-yell, half-laugh. I start for the edge of the pool when he suddenly dives over me.
I have to admit, even though I’m annoyed, it’s damn hot seeing his gorgeous, muscled body flash over me, lit dramatically by the poolside spotlights. Especially that large, hard cock jutting from his body as he arcs through the air and gracefully pierces the water.
I feel hands grab my ankles underwater and I shriek. He pulls himself up along my legs. His skin glides across mine, and I can feel the hard pressure of his cock sliding up my body.
Once he surfaces, I hit his shoulder. “You’re such an asshole!”
He laughs and rakes his wet hair back from his face. His upper body is a perfect ‘V,’ with his broad shoulders and small waist and washboard abs.
God
damn
he’s beautiful.
“Come here,” he says, and tries to kiss me.
“No,” I pout, and pull away.
“Come
here,
” he growls, and grabs my arms, pulling me to him.
“No!” I say, although I love the feeling of him overpowering me. His hands are so powerful around my wrists, forcing my body against his.
He wraps one arm around my waist and pins my arms behind me, and with the other he grabs my wet hair at the nape of my neck. I moan as he pulls my head back, exposing my neck to his bites and kisses. Then he hoists me up in the water as easily as if he were lifting a pillow, and begins to suck and lick my breasts.
Just a few inches higher and he could be inside me.
Apparently he has the same idea, because he wades towards the shallow end so that my torso and his cock are out of the water. He supports my weight with one hand under my ass and uses his other hand to stroke my pussy, to see if I’m ready for him. I’m incredibly turned on, but the water has washed away some of my lubrication. He licks his fingers and rubs his cock, slicking it down. Then he pulls apart my lips, guides his head between my thighs, and slowly pushes inside me.
Oh God…
He goes slow. He eases inside me an inch, then slightly withdraws, letting my pussy wet his cock so that he can slide further in. He eases in another inch, then withdraws almost to the point where he’s about to slip out. I protest with a little noise of frustration, then sigh in contentment as he eases his cock in halfway. Withdraw, ease farther inside. He repeats the process, making me moan in anticipation for the next, deeper stroke. Within a minute he’s entirely inside me, my weight bearing down on the base of his cock.
Gripping my ass, he begins to slowly rock inside me, letting me get wetter, giving me time to get even more turned on. I drape my arms around his neck and rest my head against his shoulder. I’m hypnotized by the feeling of water gently lapping my legs and ass as that glorious, thick pressure fills me up again and again, so slowly, so sensuously.
His fingers reach around and play with the edge of my pussy where his cock meets my lips, and even a tiny bit north of that. Normally I might be shocked, but he’s gentle, and he strokes me lightly. It actually feels really good. With the pleasure of him rocking inside me, and the gentle lapping of the water, I just let go of all judgments and enjoy him caressing parts of me no one has ever touched before as he continues to slowly move that thick, hot, sweet pressure in and out of me.
He slowly lowers me into the water until we’re submerged up to our chests. He begins to kiss me, slowly, sensually. His hands rove across my body, pinching my nipples, firmly grabbing my breasts, as he keeps fucking me slowly.
I moan into his mouth, and he gently grabs my throat. I feel the pressure and I love it. I bend backwards as he gently chokes me, my hair spreading out on the water behind me. I love the feeling of complete domination. Like he’s
taking
me. Like I’m completely his, to do with whatever he wants.
I start to come. Slow, undulating waves of pressure build in my thighs and pussy and spread throughout my body. The orgasm is slow and gentle, just like our fucking. Hypnotic. Incredible.
He grasps my body and pulls me against his chest, my soft breasts pressed against his hard pecs. With more leverage now, he begins to thrust faster. The angle is incredible. I can feel the pressure of his shaft against my clit, and his cock is massaging a spot deep inside me. Within a minute I’m coming again, but more forcefully this time. I whimper and clutch at his back, my nails sliding across his wet skin.
After every one of my orgasms, we change positions and places in the pool. At one point I’m braced against the side with my arms as he fucks me from behind. At another point we move to the shallow end so that he’s waist-deep in the water. I float on my back, my legs draped over his shoulders, as he fucks me
so
deep. With the water holding me up, I feel like I’m in a sensory deprivation tank or having some sort of out-of-body experience. The only sensation is the blissful motion of his cock inside me. That is, until I come, and the ecstasy rolls through every inch of my body, from my curled toes down to the crown of my head, and I thrash and scream in the water.
After my fifth orgasm, I climb back up his body as he’s still inside me. I look into his eyes and pant, still coming down from the pleasure. “What do
you
want? I want to make
you
come – what do you want?”
He looks me in the eyes, and that hard, animal need is there again. The same look of pain and desire from the plane.
“I want to come in your mouth.”
I breathe in sharply, both turned on and a little shocked. “Okay… can we go inside?”
He walks us both up out of the pool, his cock still inside me, his arms supporting me under my ass. I circle his body with my legs. We kiss as he walks us, dripping with water, from the pool into the penthouse. Every step he takes is another little movement of his cock, a mini-thrust inside me.
Once we’re in the bedroom he slowly raises me off him, his cock sliding out of me. He sets me on my feet and I kneel down in front of him on the plush carpet.
Jesus, from this angle he looks absolutely humongous. When I went down on him in the office, I wasn’t positioned like this. I might have gotten myself into more than I bargained for…
I take his shaft lightly in my hand and lick the underside of his cock. It spasms and lifts a few centimeters, fighting against my grasp.
Mmm… I like that.
I lick again, like I’m holding an ice cream cone in my hand. My hand trails slowly down to the base of his shaft, and I begin to caress and tickle his balls, which are tight against his body.
He’s breathing heavily. I can tell he likes it.
I open my mouth wide and take his whole head in. It presses hot and swollen against my lips. I stick my tongue out and lick that tiny ridge of skin on the underside of the head, and his cock pulses again. I feel him swell up briefly, and I can taste the tiniest bit of his salty pre-cum.