“The PM’s visit will bring in more charitable donations though, won’t it?”
“Yes, that was a real step forward for us, for the Ark itself, and, hopefully, it’ll be a step forward in the care of animals too.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell him. “You’ve worked so hard, and you’re so clever.”
He gives a short laugh. “I’m really not.”
“You are, Leon. You’re smart as, but it’s not just that you’re intelligent, you have the ability to apply that knowledge, which is more important than just being brainy. I’m crazy about you.”
The words slip out before I can vet them, and I bite my lip, worrying I’ve overstepped the mark. We can’t start saying things like that to each other. I managed to get him into bed by stating this was physical and for one night only, so I can’t now switch and start giving effusive declarations of love.
But he just smiles slowly, rolls me onto my back, and looks down at me with heat in his eyes. “I’m crazy about you, too,” he says. “Have been since the moment I first saw you, when you teased me about being one of the Ninja Turtles.”
I wince. “I thought I was going to get fired on the first day because of that. You just walked off and shut the door.”
“I knew at that moment I was in trouble. I sat there and put my head on my desk and thought oh holy fuck, it’s going to happen again.” He gives a rueful smile.
I cup his face, brushing a thumb across his stubble, and look up into his eyes, which are just a glitter in the darkness. He’s fought his attraction to me for two years, and in one evening we’ve thrown away all that hard work.
“Do you regret what we’ve done?” I whisper, thinking how handsome he is, and how lovely it is to peek behind the screen he usually projects and see the real man behind the stern visage.
“No.” He kisses my nose. “How could I?” He places two fingers at the base of my throat and draws them down, through my breasts, to my tummy. “I’ve fantasized about this for so long. I’m not going to regret it now.” He lowers his head and kisses my neck, my shoulder, the swell of my breast.
I’m glad about that, anyway. I don’t think I would have been able to bear it if he’d rolled over after having sex and immediately said it was a mistake.
He presses his lips over my ribs and down to my navel, and my gaze drifts out to the night sky with hazy pleasure—and then I give a deep gasp.
He lifts his head and stares at me. “What?” When I don’t answer, he follows my gaze out of the window.
The horizon is filled with shimmering light. At the top of the hills, it’s a vibrant gold, turning to a coral pink, a light green, and a purple that fades into the stars.
“Oh my God.” I sit up, and together we rise from the bed and walk out into the living room. Leon, still in his jeans, grabs a blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, then lifts his phone, takes a few photos of the lights, and starts recording a video.
“I’ll send it to you when we get back,” he says. “A memento of your birthday.” He glances at me and smiles.
I smile back, thinking it will also be a souvenir of our time together. An evening that was as magical as the Southern Lights, and just as beautiful.
Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow hard, fascinated by the play of colors in the sky. “It’s as if God is hand-painting the stars,” I say, then realize how stupidly romantic that sounded. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re right. If there is a god, I would imagine he’s pretty pleased with himself right now.” He moves the camera from one side of the house to the other, taking in the view of the lake, the sleepy town below us, the mountains, and the sky, stops the video, and puts his phone on the table behind us. Then he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me. “I’ll never forget this night.”
“Neither will I.”
He slips his hands up under the blanket and skates his fingers across my belly. “Do you want to sit in the recliners and watch for a bit?”
“Mm?” I’m distracted by the sensations skittering through me at the mere touch of his fingers.
He slides his hands down over my hips to my thighs, brings them to the front, and then up, brushing his fingers lightly between my legs. “Or would you like to go back to bed?” he asks silkily.
I can see the lights from the bedroom, and I think it will be like something out of a fantasy movie to lie there and let the Lion King make love to me while behind him the Aurora Australis fans across the black velvet sky.
“Yes,” I whisper. Even though it’s only been fifteen minutes since my last orgasm, my body is already awakening, humming as if I’m a tuning fork, and we’re singing in harmony.
He kisses my ear and down my neck, still tracing his fingers across my belly, and I feel his tongue touch my skin, sending shivers from the roots of my hair to my toes. Slowly, he brings his hands up to cup my breasts, and with his thumbs and forefingers he gives a little tug of the very tips of my nipples, which harden immediately.
I rest the back of my head on his shoulder, avoiding the wound, which is still tender, and watch the play of lights through hazy eyes while he kisses my shoulder and neck and sucks gently where my pulse races beneath my skin. Oh yes, this is definitely the best birthday I’ve ever had.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, and he takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. I let the blanket drop, and the breath hisses through his teeth as his gaze rakes down me. “You have the most beautiful body,” he tells me. “Is that from your ballet?”
“Partly. I run, too.” Actually, I’m pretty toned because of what I did in my younger years, but I’m not going to tell him about that.
“I’d like to see you dance,” he says huskily, turning me to face him once we’re in the room. He runs his fingers over my collarbone. “Did you used to perform?”
“When I was younger.” I shiver, my nipples tightening.
He lifts a hand to my hair. “Will you undo your braids for me?”
“It’ll take a minute—there are a lot of them.”
“That’s okay.”
I move to the mirror on the wardrobe and begin to release the clips. He stands behind me, still skating his fingers over me, but watching my fingers as they slip through the braids, unfurling the strands.
“It must take you ages to do them every morning,” he says, fascinated.
“A while. I’ve always worn my hair up, usually in a bun, when I was young. In my teens I had a thing about the Vikings—I read every book I could find on them, watched every movie and series, loved the hairstyles, and began to experiment. Now it feels weird when I don’t braid it.”
I finish undoing the last braid, and my hair falls past my shoulders in tight waves.
“The collar and cuffs don’t match,” he teases, brushing a hand up my thigh and then between my legs.
I swat him away. “Yes, Leon, I dye my hair. I heard blondes have more fun and wanted to find out.”
When his eyes meet mine in the mirror, I can see from his expression that he suspects that’s not the truth. My heart skips a beat, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to query, to ask why I felt the need to change my hair color.
But to his credit, he doesn’t. “It suits you,” he says instead, and he gently turns me in his arms and cups my face. “I’m going to make love to you now,” he tells me. “And I’m going to take my time, so you’d better get used to going slowly, Ms. Dixon, and to being worshipped. You’re like the Milky Way, undeniably beautiful, and full of mystery. I want to explore you.” He slides his hands down, over my arms, around my back, and over my hips and bottom. “I want to taste you, Nicola. Will you let me do that? Will you let me fulfil the fantasy I’ve dreamed about for so long?”
Chapter Fourteen
Nix
“If you must,” I tell him, somewhat breathlessly. Like it needed answering. Do I want the most gorgeous guy in the whole of New Zealand, the man I’ve been admiring from afar and fantasizing about at night for two years, to go dow
n on me? That would be yes, Leon.
“Good,” he says, and he gives me a wicked smile as he backs me to the bed. “Climb on.”
I do, shifting up and lying back while he strips off his jeans and boxers. Ooh, now he’s naked, lit by starlight—I feel like I’m making love with Orion, the warrior come down to earth, tall and muscular, and with an impressive erection that looks eager for action.
He begins by kissing my feet, then presses his lips slowly up my calves and thighs. I snuggle dreamily into the pillows, covering my eyes with my arms as he pushes my knees apart and settles down between them. My face heats a little, eek! Maybe I should have showered first. But he gives a long, satisfied groan, parts my folds with his hands, and then brushes his tongue right up my center.
I inhale sharply, my body clenching at the incredible, intimate touch. Oh jeez. I haven’t had a guy do this for a while, and I suspect Leon is going to be significantly better at it than any previous partners. Sure enough, he teases my clit with the tip of his tongue and gives long, slow strokes up through my folds, and when his fingers join his mouth, he’s gentle and yet firm as he slides them inside me.
Mmm, that’s amazing… and it’s not just the sensations. It’s the thought that Leon is taking his time to give me pleasure. That he wants me, wants to be with me, even if it’s only for one night. We’ve worked together for so long, spent nearly every day out of the past eight hundred or so only ten feet apart. I’ve been privy to almost every aspect of his life, have known him as intimately as you can know a man you’re not married to, and yet he’s remained enticingly out of reach. And now we’re together, in the most profound way possible, and I can hardly believe it.
Ooohhh… he’s an expert at this. He’s gently massaging inside, what I’ve read is the location of the G-spot, something I’d assumed was a figment of a sex therapist’s imagination, and mmm… that feels good… a subtle pressure deep inside. He’s combining it with long, luxurious licks, and then he covers my clit with his mouth and oh, holy Jesus, he’s sucking… oh my God, wow, that feels amazing.
He stops, and I sink back onto the pillows, blowing out a breath.
“Slowly, Nicola,” he scolds, stroking me with an agonizing, leisurely pace. “We’ve got all night. No point in rushing.”
The thought of spending all night making love with this man gives me a funny feeling in my stomach. It’s one thing to have sex fast and furious when the passion takes you, when you’re out of control, as if you have a fever; it’s another to curl up in bed and spend hours teasing one another to a climax.
I get the first flutters of doubt and uneasiness. When I told him, “Have me already,” I got what I expected—hot, hard sex, with the added bonus of a magnificent orgasm. I kinda thought that would be it. I could have dealt with that. It’s a bit like if you live in a city and go on a cruise in the Pacific, like sailing past a beautiful desert island and admiring the view before you continue back home to your house in the suburbs. But I’ve alighted, and I’m surrounded by the sights and smells of the island, and it’s warm and exotic and I’m falling in love with the place—why on earth would I want to go home to a cold concrete jungle when I can live in paradise?
I open my eyes and look up at the stars. I’m not falling in love. I fell all the way and landed, splat, right at the bottom, some time ago. I knew that, didn’t I? I’ve been in love with Leon for a long, long time.
And now my thoughts are spiraling, spinning out of control, because he’s sucking again, and stroking inside me, and there’s no way I can slow down when he’s doing that. Every little muscle inside me starts to tighten, and he gives a sexy growl of approval, and then I come, with a blissful sweep of seven or eight strong pulses. I clench my hand in his hair and cry out, not bothering to hold back when there are no neighbors in shouting distance, enjoying the ride for as long as it lasts, wishing it could go on forever.
When I’m done, he places lights kisses down there, eventually making me laugh and push his head away. He continues kissing up my body as he rises, taking his time to press his lips over my belly, dipping his tongue into my navel, and then continuing up.
“You have magnificent breasts,” he points out, lowering beside me, and cupping one of them as he admires it.
“Why, thank you.”
“I mean it. They’re amazing. The perfect size, and these—” he touches his tongue to the nipple “—are beautiful.” He rubs his thumb over it, watching with apparent fascination as the tip turns to a button, and then he lowers his head and plucks it with his lips for a while before swapping to the other one.
I let him, too lazy to stop him, thinking he’ll move on eventually, but he continues for ages, until my body starts to stir again, and eventually I groan. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“Yeah.” He fans his hand over my stomach and then slides it down between my legs. “I’m going to give you so many orgasms tonight, Ms. Dixon, you’re going to have to sleep for a week to get over them.”
“Oh…” I clench inside as he strokes lightly up my core.
He lifts his head and looks into my eyes, watching me while he slips two fingers down inside me. I inhale, my lips parting, and he continues to study my face, his eyes dark with desire, as he strokes me.
I feel as if he’s looking right into my brain, as if he’s descended into the basement and is rummaging around in dusty trunks and old cardboard boxes looking for treasure. I want to tell him there’s nothing of worth in there, but words won’t form on my lips, and I can only stare helplessly at him, my breath hitching as he circles over my clit with his thumb.
“You have no idea how often I’ve thought about doing this,” he says, his voice husky with passion, as his fingers move faster. “I’ve sat at my desk so many times and watched you work. I don’t think you have a clue how gorgeous you look, with your tight skirts, white blouses, and those adorable reading glasses you wear.”
I moisten my lips, feeling the first tremors of a climax, way off in the distance. He’s fantasized about having me in the office?
“I’d imagine asking you into my room, closing the door, and lifting you onto my desk, and then I’d slide my hand up your skirt into your panties and make you come with my fingers.”
I close my eyes.
“Like this,” he says, pressing his thumb on my clit, which is super-sensitive. Shocked, I gasp as another orgasm approaches at a rate of knots.
“Fuck, Leon!” I clutch hold of his shoulders as I shudder. “Oh God. You need to warn me when you’re going to do that…” My ability to speak vanishes, and I can only gasp as it hits me, and I clench around the fingers he slides inside me.
“I told you, you’re going to have to sleep for a week.” He waits until I’ve stopped, kisses me, then withdraws his fingers and sucks them.
“Jesus.” I close my eyes and sink back into the pillows.
“Mainly,” he continues the previous conversation as if I haven’t just had an incredible orgasm, “I’d daydream about bending you over the desk and sliding inside you from behind.”
“Oh God.” I cover my face with my hands. How am I ever going to be able to sit at my desk now, knowing he’s imagining that?
“Did you ever think about it?” he asks.
“No.” I lower my hands to look up at him with helpless eyes.
His lips curve up, and he bends to kiss me. “Never?”
“Wouldn’t dream of fantasizing about having wild-animal sex with my boss in his office, possibly on the coffee table.”
He chuckles. “Wild-animal sex?” His lips brush mine. “You like it a little rough, sweetheart?”
“I love a little ‘grrr.’” And he certainly seems the one to supply it.
“Oh, Nicola, we are so well matched.” Still chuckling, he lifts up, leans over and retrieves another condom, takes off the wrapper, and rolls it on.
We’re well matched? The words make my stomach give a little flip. I suck my bottom lip, looking up at him as he moves between my
legs, guides the tip of his erection inside me, and pushes forward.
As he sinks into me, he looks down into my eyes, and I’m spellbound, staring up at him surrounded by stars. “Oh God,” I moan, because he’s a big guy, and even though I’m wet, he’s a tight fit, and it takes my body time to adjust.
“Aaahhh…” He gives long, slow thrusts, pushing my knees up, and leaning back so he can watch himself disappearing inside me. “Jesus, that feels amazing. You’re so tight.”
“Pelvic floor exercises,” I mumble, and I clench, making us both groan.
“I told you, we’re going slow this time,” he admonishes me. He continues moving, observing the place where he enters my body, giving long, slow strokes. I wait for him to pick up the speed, but he doesn’t, he continues like that for ages, until he’s slick with my moisture, moving easily inside me.
Eventually, holding the condom, he withdraws, and he rotates his finger in the air for me to roll over.
I do as he bids, and he pulls me up onto my knees. My heart hammers as he moves between my legs again, directs himself into my folds, and pushes forward.
“Oh God!” I squeal.
He stops immediately. “Sorry. Does that hurt?”
“No. It… feels different, that’s all… deeper…”
“Deep breaths, baby,” he instructs. I like the endearment. Much better than Ms. Dixon. He strokes my back, then slides a hand underneath me and circles a finger lightly over my clit. He does it a few more times, until I’ve relaxed and gotten used to the position, then he puts a hand between my shoulder blades and presses gently. Ooh, he likes directing. That’s sexy. I don’t mind being bossed around in the bedroom.
I drop onto my elbows, and he murmurs his approval, stroking my butt and sliding a thumb down between my cheeks, which sends shivers all through me. Then he starts moving again. His hips brush my butt and the backs of my thighs, and within a few strokes I know he’s up to the hilt, buried deep inside me.
My Boss, the Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 2) Page 11
