Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “Then I’m at the right place.”

  His lips come crashing down on mine in a fiery, passionate kiss.

  “I've missed you this week." He grips my shoulders tightly and pulls me to him, kissing me hard once more.

  I rip the buttons off his shirt, flinging it open and exposing his sweaty masculine chest. He holds me against the wall, and I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as our kisses become aggressive. My panties are soaking wet, and I need more.

  Grabbing him by the hand, I lead him to my bedroom, which overlooks Alcatraz and the bay. I push him back against the bed, his cock tenting in his pants as I begin a slow striptease. Swaying my hips from side to side, I lift my shirt over my head, revealing my taut breasts constricted by my tight lace bra. I palm my nipples, which sends electric currents direct to my clit. Turning away, I tuck my thumbs into the waist of my skirt and slowly pull it over my hips. I can feel his eyes riveted to my every move. Facing him again, I step out of my skirt once it pools at my ankles, then reach behind me to unhook my bra, turn my back to him to prolong his excitement. Rocking my ass back and forth, I pull and twist at my nipples and moan.

  “I want to see you,” he pants.

  “Be patient.” I cross my legs at my ankles, then slip my thumb in the edges of my panties and slowly begin to pull them down. Turning to look at him, I find his eyes riveted to my magic spot. I rub my fingers along the crease, giving him a good peek at what he’s going to enjoy.

  I pinch and play with my nipples as I walk slowly toward him. I stand at the edge of the bed above him then lower myself so I’m straddling him, grinding my pussy onto his erect cock as I press my mouth to his and his breathing becomes labored. I can feel his cock grow to full mass quickly, sandwiched between his stomach and my moistening pussy.

  Going into great detail, I share how I intend to rip his jeans open before tearing them down and throwing them across the room. Stroking the hair on his stomach just above his waist, I continue telling him how I intend on throating his cock, wrapping my lips around the shaft and swirling my tongue around the head.

  He listens as I tell him how I’ll lather his cock until it’s dripping wet from my tongue, and how I plan on making his cock spew hot white cum into the depths of my hungry mouth. He can do nothing but listen and shudder with eager delight as I plant my lips on his chest, nipples, belly, and beyond.

  I snake my way down his body, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his undone jeans as I plant kiss after wet kiss along his abdomen. He shudders and watches, helping by wiggling his hips to aid my eager hands as I work his jeans down off his legs, tossing them to the floor like an animal in heat.

  Thrashing my head back in his direction, my hair falls like a curtain in front of my face as I crawl my way back to him, coming to rest between his legs. I tilt my head to the side, exposing my eager mouth as I drizzle long trails of saliva onto his hard cock that’s growing harder with each moment, rising up to meet my open mouth.

  My seductively poised head lowers, my mouth opening wider as my hand wraps firmly around the base of his cock and guides it slowly to my waiting mouth. I see him close his eyes and he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs before slowly releasing it. Hungry and lusting, my mouth continues to pour saliva onto his cock as my hand guides it round and round, sliding his quivering head over my pursed lips. Stroking up and down the length of his shaft, I work the lather of saliva into his flesh, his moans of approval harmonizing with mine.

  Pulling a pillow under his head to raise it, he watches me. Our eyes remain locked, and he grins in delight as I lower my mouth onto him, engulfing his length. It turns me on knowing how much he’s enjoying this. Heat fills my core as his cock disappears into my wanting mouth, intensifying at the moment my lips close around the base of his cock. I suckle gently on his shaft, then harder as my mouth works its way up his cock before releasing the head with an audible pop. I can’t help but rub at my throbbing clit, the slickness matching my feral desire. I repeat the process over and over again, brushing my hair aside occasionally to refresh my view.

  As the pace quickens, my head bobs faster over his shaft, his throbbing cock fucking my hungry mouth as fast as my lips will let it. He tries to buck his hips up into my mouth, but I press down on his waist to stop his movement, wanting to be the one who pleasures him, who controls his movements. He eventually relaxes and lies back, allowing my assault on his beautiful cock. I let his dripping cock stand at attention, bobbing for more consideration. One hand is still wrapped gently around the shaft, firmly stroking it as my tongue runs deftly along the underside, down toward the base and then lower over his balls.

  My mouth opens wider, a perfect O as I suckle his balls between my lips, lavishing them with great attention as I work them one at a time, lifting and caressing them with my tongue as my hand strokes him tighter up and down the length of his cock. A hunger mounts within me, my desire to get him off almost more pleasurable than my own climax.

  I lift my head and swallow his cock back down my throat, followed by a loud groan of pleasure from him. I answer it with a moan of my own, sending exciting vibrations through his rigid flesh and pushing his head deep into the pillow as he looks to the heavens, panting.

  Up and down my head bobs, my hand planted firmly against the base, kneading the dripping saliva into his taut flesh every time my mouth hovers over his head. I stroke him faster, harder as I look up to him and begin a monologue of naughty teasing that sends his body into overdrive.

  "C'mon, baby. Do you like my hand stroking your big cock? Come for me, baby. I want to taste it. I want to feel that cum in my mouth. Please, baby, please," I beg, urging him on as my pace quickens.

  His body tenses as my hands caress his sac and my mouth continues its oral ravaging of him. Faster my lips fuck him, up and down, sucking and slurping noises more and more audible now. I tighten my grip every now and again to milk the precum from his head, my tongue massaging him, pressing into him in unison with my hands kneading his balls.

  I start to stroke him violently, leaving my mouth open and dangling my tongue over the shaking head, my other hand snaking up and pinching my nipple as I drizzle stream after hot stream of saliva onto his cock for lubrication as I piston away at his shaft. His body goes rigid, hips bucking violently as it happens.

  His head rocks back onto the pillow, and a loud groan echoes throughout the room as he spurts hot white ropes of cum into my waiting mouth. As the flow begins, I close my lips around my head and stroke him faster and faster, harder and harder, milking his cock into my mouth, appeasing my carnal hunger only slightly. My head bobs again, lips suckling tightly around him, coaxing out pulse after erotic pulse of his warm salty cum down my throat.

  With a loud gasp I release his cock, catching my breath as streams of his juice ooze down my lips and over my chin. I lower my head once more and lick up stray streams of white dripping down his shaft. His body shudders, convulsing with each touch of my tongue against his throbbing cock. His moaning eventually subsides, and he crooks his arm over his eyes as he catches his breath.

  I release his softening cock, spent and still throbbing, twitching now and then. He opens his eyes and tries to adjust his vision to the dim room. I kiss him deeply as his hands wander to my wet pussy, opening my legs to allow him entry. His strokes are firm and probing.

  "God, baby, you're fucking awesome," he whispers.

  "As are you, babe. Your cock is simply exquisite," I reply, resting my head on his still-heaving chest.

  I rub circles with my fingers in his chest hair, and I’m sure he’s fallen asleep when he kisses the top of my head. “Your turn.”

  “I thought we weren’t counting.”

  His mouth suckles my nipple, and his fingers explore, teasing me before pumping in and out of my pussy, one finger and then two curling deep inside me. His thumb circling my clit as his mouth continues at my nipple. So much sensation. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he shatters me
and I yell, “Andreas!” so loud that I’m sure they heard me in Reno—almost two hundred miles away.

  He licks his fingers, and I can feel his throbbing cock against my belly alive and ready. I reach to the side table and hand him a condom as he presses kisses all over my firm breasts, my nipples sending an electrical pulse to my core. He pushes my tits together and licks at the peaks in tandem as he growls over and over.

  He rubs himself against me, and I whimper in response. Lovemaking can come later; I need Andy to take me hard and fast. I’ve missed him, and I need him again.

  As he sits back and rolls the condom onto his steel rod, I can’t help but watch in awe. Staring at my wide-open pussy, he smiles as if he’s found treasure. “Tell me if you need me to slow down or if I’m hurting you, cuore mio.” He moves back as I drive against his hard cock pushing against my core.

  “Stop talking and start fucking me.” I groan as he drives forward, opening me up and working his way into where he belongs, deep inside me.

  “You’re so damn tight,” he grunts.

  I mewl and push back, taking more of him. He grips my hips and rocks against me, picking up speed as he grunts softly. Pleasure rolls through me in waves, my shallow breathing increasing as I enjoy the intense pressure of his thickness.

  He leans forward and kisses the side of my neck as his fingers slide between the wet folds of my sex. I arch my hips forward and jerk back in rhythm with his deep thrusts as he softly pinches my clit.

  “I want to feel you come again,” he whispers against the damp skin of my neck, and as if he’s already gained mastery over my body, it responds to his desire. I let out a guttural cry and come hard, his words commanding and voice thick with passion as I lose myself in it.

  “Oh my God,” I groan and rock against him, never wanting the moment to end.

  He collapses on me, both of us spent, and we drift off into euphoric sleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Andy

  I look over at Greer. She’s always so beautiful, like a pinup girl from the twenties with her beautiful straight dark hair and post-sex glow about her. She pulls the sheets up close under my scrutiny. “You up for some coffee, hot tea or scotch? That’s pretty much all I have.”

  “No wine?”

  “Nope. I drank it all.” Her lips curl, and there’s a twinkle in her eyes. I can’t be sure if she’s giving me a hard time or if she's serious.

  “I did bring a bottle from my brother’s place in Argentina.”

  Her eyes grow wide, and I can see the excitement in them. “What does he grow in Argentina?”

  “Malbecs mostly.”

  “Sounds delicious. Does anyone in your family grow whites?”

  “Yes, I have a brother in Greece who does pinot grigio, a brother in New Zealand with almost a dozen kids who grows sauvignon blanc mostly, and finally we grow a great chardonnay in South Africa.”

  “A dozen kids?”

  “He’s child number two. My first brother went to France. Dominic went to New Zealand and met a wonderful Kiwi, and I think they spent most of their first five years in bed.”

  “Well, if he has half the talent you have, then I can see why.”

  I roll on my back and let out a deep belly laugh. I’m actually embarrassed, and Greer must be able to tell since she changes the topic. “Your father really must like wine.”

  “It’s in our blood.”

  “But it must be hard for your mother to have her children so far away.”

  “Through our quarterly face-to-face meetings and our weekly phone calls, we work together as a team to make sure the Bellissima name is well represented on all continents. In your world, you’d call it branding. In ours, we want the best of every variety of grape to fall under our name.”

  “Actually, I have a Bellissima champagne and a few different reds I bought last week when I was at your vineyard.”

  “Sophia charged you for wine?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t she?”

  “That will never happen again. She knows better.” Sophia knows I’m serious with Greer and that she shouldn’t be charging her for wine. That bugs me. There aren’t many perks for dating a guy who works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. A case of wine now and again won’t kill us. Not if I’m missing over forty barrels.

  The initial conversations with my dad about this missing wine have been me mostly talking. I’ve had some salespeople stop by the vineyard, and I have some ideas that I need to fully vet before I go, but hopefully, if I have a plan, they’ll move on to other issues instead.

  Greer rests her head on my shoulder and holds me tight. I kiss the top of her head, and she asks, “What do you feel like for dinner? We can order in.”

  “I would love a good seafood pasta. Would that work for you?” Being Italian is in my blood, and sometimes I crave the carbs I grew up on.

  “I know just the place. I have a menu for them here on my phone.” She sits up and hands me the phone. It looks like food my mother would make, and I start a mental list of all the things I want.

  “This looks perfect. May I call and order?”

  “Of course. I’ve never had anything I didn’t like on their menu. We can send a messenger to bring it to us if we don’t want to go pick it up. I’m fine either way, and of course, if you want to get dressed and eat there, I’m good with that, too.”

  The man who answers their phone has the same accent I do, and I fall into Italian as we talk. He and his wife are from the next town over from where I grew up. Conversation is easy as we talk about what we miss and don’t miss about the home country. I share that I want to show my girlfriend some good authentic Italian food from the old neighborhood, and he tells me he’ll make me the best meal and deliver it himself.

  We hang up, and I turn to Greer and say, “That was easy. You’re going to like what I ordered. They make their pasta like my mother does.”

  “They’re a favorite of mine, but usually I need to send someone to pick it up.”

  “Oh, no worries. They agreed to deliver it here. Is that okay?”

  “Of course, though I didn’t think they delivered. When did they say they’ll be here?”

  “I didn’t ask. Sorry. Do you have one of the Bellissima Grande wines I gave you?”

  “Yes.”

  I hate to ask, but I think he’d really appreciate it, and I can always get Greer more. “If I promise to replace the one bottle with a case, may I give it to him for making the delivery?”

  “Of course, but I think you should also give him one of your wines from Napa. He needs to see how mature your wines are. Your dad’s will remind him of home, but yours will let him know he can get a piece of home right here in Northern California.”

  “You’re a marketing genius.” I kiss the top of her head once more.

  I hear her stomach beginning to growl. I’m also getting hungry. “I ordered many things that aren’t on the menu. We’re in for a treat.”

  I look up to find she’s changed. I would’ve been fine if she wanted to be naked for the rest of the weekend, but I like the yoga pants that hug her every curve, and she’s wearing a long-sleeved Giants baseball T-shirt. We snuggle on the patio watching the lighted sailboats glide across the water as we wait for our dinner to arrive.

  The sun begins to set behind the Golden Gate, and it hugs the bay with a vibrant orange glow that creates a warmth all on its own. “You really have the most stunning view.”

  “Thank you. It was CeCe’s godmother who was selling, and she really did give it to me for a song. She wasn’t spending much time here any longer. She has a beau in Marin, and after many years of commuting, he finally talked her into moving in with him.”

  She wants to downplay her wealth, but I don’t care about money like that. It’s the European in me. I knew people who had buckets full of money and drove old beat-up cars when I was growing up. Money is a curse sometimes, and I think Greer would agree with that. “She
didn’t want to marry?”

  “No, I think because they weren’t going to have children, she didn’t see the need.”

  “Just because they weren’t going to have children doesn’t mean the union isn’t important.” I have to be careful, my Catholic upbringing is coming out.

  “Well, they’re both well off financially and didn’t want to mix their money.”

  “Do you think the same way?”

  She takes a deep breath before she answers. “I don’t know if I want to marry. I don’t need to for financial reasons, and I don’t think I’ll ever have children, so I just don’t know.”

  Her phone rings, alerting us that our dinner has arrived and she’s escaped a difficult conversation.

  I thought all women wanted to get married, so I’m a little surprised by her comment. I’ll come back to it later; she’s not off the hook.

  The owner arrives and introduces himself as Filippo. He loves the wine and won’t accept it, but Greer steps in and stresses, “It’s a piece of home for you and your wife to enjoy together. And we hope you will try the Napa Bellissima Valle and order it for your restaurant so you can share a bit of home made here in Northern California, just like your amazing food.”

  His eyes begin to mist. In a thick Italian accent, he says, “You are wonderful people. You know, he’s from a town just over a few hills from where I grew up, and we know people in common.”

  Greer takes the food and disappears into the kitchen with it as Filippo and I talk. After almost twenty minutes, Filippo’s phone rings and his wife is scolding him for spending too much time with us. Greer returns, and he tells us, “The wine will make her happy. Thank you for your generosity. Please send your salesperson to my restaurant. I will buy cases, I promise.”

  I’m in awe over how easily Greer turned him into probably a big customer for us. “You were amazing.”

  “Your wine did that, not me.” She removes the aluminum takeout containers from a warming rack in her oven. “So what did he bring us?”