by Marian Tee
“Sergei?”
The wide-eyed look on Fredericka’s face made him realize he had been staring at her, and Sergei willed himself back into control. “What do you want to drink?” She smiled at him, and the sight was irresistible and adorable, enough to have a brief smile tug at his lips as he asked, “Coffee, I take it?”
“As always.” Her gaze drifted to the espresso machine behind him. “Shall I make it for us?”
“It would be my pleasure,” he drawled, “to have you serve me.” The sexist remark was purposeful, and the billionaire’s eyes gleamed in amusement when Fredericka gave him a properly professional response by sticking her tongue out.
Even so, she still padded towards the coffee station and his admiring gaze followed her every move, Sergei loving the seductively gentle sway of her hips.
Taking a seat on the couch, the billionaire watched her leisurely while his mind considered the many ways his life had changed ever since Fredericka had entered the picture.
Whereas once he had always been cynical and ruthless, Fredericka’s passionate belief in the need for giving second chances had inevitably rubbed off on him. He usually fired airheads, idiots, and bigots on the spot, but lately he had found himself actually giving them a week to prove to him they could change, and all because he wanted to impress Fredericka with his nice-guy act.
Even his usual routine had been thrown upside-down, with Sergei having no choice but to delegate more to his team of executives so that he would be able to free himself for weekend trips to Miami. In the past, his siblings had teased him for being a workaholic. Now they teased him for being a hedonist, with the way he made Florida look like it was just a ten-minute ride from California.
In front of him, he caught sight of Fredericka wetting her lips as she stole glances at him while making coffee, but he pretended not to notice. His little bee had changed, too, the billionaire thought. She was so much more feminine now, and he knew he wasn’t being conceited in thinking it was due to him. That one night they shared had been more than enough to awaken the earthy sexuality that she had been born with, and since then the way she would stare at him with innocent, unconscious yearning had been his ultimate source of torment and pleasure.
Her inexperience made her so wonderfully easy to read, and it was his secret hope that she would always stay that way. If she spoke to him with a telltale tremor in her voice, it meant that she was missing him badly – but was too proud to tell him. If she smiled at him too brightly, then it meant she had probably succumbed to the temptation of reading lies of gossip about him, and that it had hurt her, even knowing it was a lie.
And if she came to him like she had earlier, eyes suspiciously bright and a lovely flush covering her cheeks---
Well, that could only mean one thing.
She had touched herself before meeting with him.
The knowledge made Sergei shift on the couch, trying his best to get his erection under control. The idea of Fredericka masturbating was a major turn on, and the sight of her now, with her post-climax glow, made his little bee even more irresistible.
“It’s ready,” Fredericka announced then, and Sergei’s gaze lifted up to hers just as she reached him. After placing her cup on the center table, she handed Sergei his, her bent position affording him a generous view of her cleavage. His cock stirred more insistently under his pants, and he had to strive harder to keep himself in check. “Spasibo,” he murmured as he accepted the cup. Thank you.
She took her seat next to him on the couch and for a few moments, they enjoyed their coffee in silence while doing their best to ignore the way they could feel each other’s heat even without touching.
Fredericka suddenly sneezed, causing Sergei to put his cup down to feel her forehead.
“I’m fine,” she protested even as the mere feel of his hand made her tremble.
Noticing the tremor that struck her body, Sergei asked with a frown, “Are you cold?” She didn’t have a temperature, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t about to come down with something.
“Just a bit,” Fredericka lied, knowing that was better than the truth, which was that her body was aching for his touch.
At her answer, he immediately took off his blazer and placed it over her shoulders, and she mumbled her thanks. She caught the scent of his cologne from his blazer and her nipples started to pucker. Not again, Fredericka thought, horrified. Needing to distract herself, she blurted out the first thing on her mind. “What’s the next thing we should target on our bucket list?”
“How about a party for your birthday?” Sergei suggested after a moment, recalling that the item was listed on the Moderate category. He had actually never been one to throw any kind of party, not even for his family members, but for Fredericka he would gladly make an exception.
“Please don’t,” she said with a light shudder. “I don’t need additional reminders that I’m going to turn older.” And for three months, it would also mean she would be seven years older than Sergei, too.
The thought made her mentally flinch.
Six was bad enough, really, but seven just made her positively feel like, well, a cougar.
The billionaire’s gaze narrowed at her. “You should really stop caring so much about the difference in our age.”
“Easy for you to say,” she retorted. “You’re not the one who’s older.”
“It’s just six years,” he pointed out exasperatedly.
“When I have my birthday and until you don’t turn twenty-six, it will be seven,” she grumbled, “and that’s almost like a decade!”
“You’re being ridiculous. No one can tell the difference, and besides---” The billionaire’s tone turned dry. “Between the two of us, we both know who’s the adult one---”
“And that’s me,” she finished firmly. She was the adult one between them…so why was it again that she was spending too much time with Sergei Grachyov? A random memory fluttered in her mind, a time when she and her friends had attended Family Day at Christopoulos University and the three of them had suffered serious pangs of envy at seeing Mairi Tanner-Leventis, an American schoolteacher who had once been rumored to be a scheming gold-digger, enjoying her happy-ever-after in the company of her Greek billionaire husband and baby girl.
I want that for myself, Fredericka thought glumly. Or if she couldn’t have love, then maybe she could at least experience the passion even just once. As soon as the thought popped up, an idea began to form in her mind.
An idea that might also just put an end to her grossly inadvisable infatuation with a younger man---
“Do you have any plans for your birthday?” Sergei was asking.
“Umm, yes.” Fredericka cleared her throat. “I actually do.” Just now, actually, but he didn’t have to know that.
Sergei gazed at Fredericka curiously, having noticed the way she had suddenly started chewing on her lip. That look on her lovely face meant she was lost in her thoughts, and they appeared serious enough to have her nervous.
“Won’t you share with me what your plans are?”
“Umm…”
“I take it I’m not a part of it?” he asked dryly, easily guessing the reason for her discomfort.
She slowly nodded.
“Is it something just for you Alyx and Anneke?”
She shook her head just as slowly.
Sergei’s tone became faintly puzzled. “Then what?”
“It’s…a…secret?”
Sergei stopped smiling. For as long as he knew her, Fredericka had always been vehemently against any kind of duplicity. Secrets were synonymous to lies in her book, which was why the fact that she was trying to keep something from him now made the billionaire both wary and suspicious.
“You know I’ll find out sooner or later,” he told her lazily, “so why don’t we just cut to the chase and you tell me now what your plans are.”
“It’s my birthday,” she tried to prevaricate, “so my plans are my business---”
“Erie
.”
She gulped.
“What,” the billionaire asked very softly, “are your plans for your birthday?”
She mumbled her answer in a nearly inaudible voice, but when the billionaire suddenly cursed, Fredericka knew he had still heard her, and she gulped again.
“What the fuck, Erie? Why the hell are you going to meet with Julian Alexeyev on your birthday?”
“I was thinking…” Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and say, “I’m thinking of dating him.”
His jaw clenched. “Did he ask you out?” Julian. It was always that fucking Julian Alexeyev!
“I don’t need to explain anything---”
“Answer the question!” His fury worsened at the flash of defiance in her gray eyes, and leaning forward, he grabbed her by the shoulders, snarling, “Answer me, dammit---”
“Because I’m tired of being a virgin!”
The words were out before she realized what she was saying, and as the billionaire stared at her in disbelief, something inside her started to unravel and suddenly she couldn’t stop talking.
“I’m never going to fall in love, and I know that. I’m okay with that. But what I’m not okay with is turning forty and withering before I ever have sex!” Her voice started to rise. “So I will have sex, and I will lose my virginity, and---”
“Then FUCK ME!”
Chapter Thirteen
Fredericka
A penny could have dropped, and it would have sounded like a bomb going off. The silence in the room was charged with tension, and for several moments all I could do was stare at the billionaire, unable to believe what I had just heard.
What the hell had he just said?
And almost as if he had heard my question, Sergei’s expression hardened, and his tone was just as hard as he said with slow precision, “I’ve wanted your virginity the first time I met you. So fuck me.”
Oh. So I had heard him right, and the realization jerked me out of my state of shock and I jumped to my feet. “No.” The rejection came out almost involuntarily, a response conditioned by the years that I had forcibly reminded myself over and over that I would never be like my mother and fall for a younger man.
I lifted my chin. “It’s not possible.”
“Because I’m younger?” Sergei came to his feet with a derisive shake of his head. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two years, Erie. You must know by now you can trust me.”
I shook my head vehemently, unwilling to let myself see the truth in his words. “It’s not that easy---”
“You either want to fuck me or not,” he growled. “It’s that easy.”
“We’re just friends---”
“And now we’ll be something else,” Sergei finished flatly.
I stared at him, stunned.
He laughed humorlessly. “You expected me to say we could be friends with benefits, didn’t you?”
Yes, I thought numbly, and could he blame me? The whole world saw us together all the time, and instead of thinking we were a couple, they imagined I was his Attorney Moneypenny, which was basically a cute way of saying I was a girl with brains, a girl he might flirt with from time to time, but in the end, I was also just a girl who could be his friend but not his girlfriend.
“You must know I’ve never stopped wanting you,” Sergei suddenly gritted out.
His words shook me, but I hardened myself against it. “You’re twenty-five,” I said thinly. “You’re programmed to want anyone in a skirt---”
“Zatk nis,” Sergei cut me off with a hiss, dark eyes flashing with fury.
Shut up.
My face reddened, but before I could react, the billionaire had suddenly yanked me forward, and as I stumbled against his chest, he grabbed my wrist and brought it down---
Ah!
My fingers, pressed against his throbbing cock, curled around his length reflexively, and the involuntarily reaction had my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. So. Hard. I swallowed at the thought, but even so I couldn’t let go. Hard. He was so, so impossibly hard, and I couldn’t think of anything else.
“My cock,” he hissed down at me, “only wants you. I haven’t fucked anyone since that time we had our first fight---”
My mind reeled at his words, rendering me frozen in his hold. Was he saying he had been celibate all this time? Could I let myself believe him?
Tipping my chin up, the billionaire forced me to meet his gaze, saying harshly, “Your virginity can only be mine. Your pussy belongs to me, and I’m the only one who can fuck it.”
Longing rippled in my body, his take-charge attitude exactly what my body craved for. My breathing quickened, and his nostrils flared. His cock pulsed violently in my hold, and my already erect nipples tightened in painful arousal.
“Erie.” The billionaire murmured my name roughly as he clasped my face with both hands. I found myself releasing his cock, my hands reaching up to his shoulders, the heat in his gaze seducing me.
But as he slowly bent his head and I was a second away from being kissed, sanity returned in a flash.
Oh my God, what was I doing?
Hadn’t I promised myself I would never let myself get involved with a younger man?
I wrenched out of the billionaire’s hold with a cry, my sudden resistance taking him by surprise and causing his hold on me to relax. I took advantage of it, freeing myself, and ran out of his room.
Seconds later and I heard him coming after me, and I nearly tripped in my effort to run faster, turning around the corner to reach the hallway leading to my room.
My hands shook as I pulled out the card key from my shorts pockets.
“Erie, stop.”
Panic struck me at how close his voice sounded, and I swiped the card on the scanner with clumsy haste. Come on, come on. The light turned green, and the latch unlocked. I stumbled inside, hoping to slam the door on his face, but he had managed to slide one foot in, and then he was using his strength to force the door open.
He overpowered me easily, and I was forced to skid back as the door pushed open completely and the billionaire stepped inside.
“Get out,” I warned him shakily, “before I scream for security.”
But the billionaire only laughed, the sound both cold and beautiful, frightening and seducing me at the same time. “If you’re going to scream one thing, pchelka, it would be that I don’t stop fucking you.”
I opened my mouth to scream for help, but in an instant he was next to me, his arms crushing my body to his just as his mouth conquered mine.
No!
I thrashed in his hold, violently and wildly, but a part of me knew I was already fighting a losing battle. My greatest struggle wasn’t against him.
It was against myself.
It was against my most shameful desire and my greatest weakness, and that was to finish what we had started over two years ago.
His kiss was deep and forceful, savage and passionate, a kiss meant to threaten my hold on sanity and safety. When I felt him sweep me up in his arms, I cried out against his mouth, and I tried, God, I really did try to get away from him, knowing that once we made it to my bed it was all over.
But his hold on me only tightened, and his kiss only became so much hotter, the bold movements of his tongue urging me to simply let go and succumb to the heat of his touch. When we made it to my bed, I expected him to let go of me, but instead his mouth remained fused with mine, and his hands started running all over my body. He caressed my breasts, kneading and fondling them, and I moaned helplessly against his mouth, unable to stop pleasure from rushing through my body.
It felt so, so good, and it was harder than ever to remember why I had to resist him.
His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts and I tried arching off the bed, hoping to dislodge his hands. But he retaliated by kissing me harder, his hand diving inside my shorts at the same time.
Aaaaaaah.
His finger stroked my folds, and my grip on sanity wavered. His mouth
released mine, and I gasped for breath, but when his mouth moved down to suck on my neck, I gasped again, this time out of despair and need.
I tried shoving him away, but in the back of my mind I knew I wasn’t trying hard enough. And by the time he had gotten rid of my shirt and bra, my breasts spilling free and his mouth closing over my nipple, I had the lost the will to try at all.
My pussy was his. My entire body was his, and I could no longer deny it.
Soon, my shorts and panties joined the rest of my clothes on the floor, and a tremulous sigh escaped me as I felt the cold blast of air conditioning brush against my skin. It took the billionaire but a moment to divest himself of his clothes, and when he lowered his body to mine, his nudity was like a scorching, powerful force that sought to enslave my every sense.
When I saw his eyes roam over my form, I stiffened, insecurities coming out of nowhere. Did he care I wasn’t stick-thin like others? Did he care I wasn’t as young or nubile as the other women he had dated? Did he---
“I forbid you to worry,” the billionaire growled, and his command surprised a choked laugh out of me. Tracing my lips, he murmured, “You’re perfect to me. In fact, you’re the only one who’s perfect in my eyes.”
The sweetness in his words made me moan, and my arms slowly slipped up to go around his neck.
“Tonight,” he muttered tautly, “I’ll show you just how starved I am of your body.”
Ooooooh.
Fire consumed my body, and even if I could think of something to say, I would have forgotten it again, with his mouth returning to my nipple. He sucked on it long and hard. His hands were equally busy, one going to my other breast while his right hand went down to tease my folds into a creamier, stickier state.
My legs began to twist under his restlessly, my body writhing in the agonizing pleasure of his caresses. When his mouth moved to my other nipple, his hand also changed course, this time stroking his fingers over my swollen clit.
“Please,” I begged when I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted him inside of me. I had been waiting for it for so long.
