Stranded With a Billionaire Boxed Set

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Stranded With a Billionaire Boxed Set Page 11

by Seraphina Donavan


  My whole body vibrated and my eyelids closed against their will. Immediately, I felt the wetness pooling in between my thighs. That foreign feeling no man had ever brought out in me. Swiftly, my rational mind took over. My nervousness caused me to stiffen.

  Trent pulled back. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m mortified about what you heard,” I whispered.

  “Why? It was very flattering.” Trent grinned seductively. “A beautiful woman gets turned on by the sight of me. As an artist, I just have to say, there’s nothing wrong with that picture.”

  “Ha. Ha,” I replied sarcastically but then had to smile at his teasing.

  Trent put his arm back around my waist and began to stroke my lips with his thumb.

  Dear Lord, I found that slight motion highly erotic and hypnotic.

  “I’m very attracted to you, Raisa, but I’m not the type of man to take advantage of a stranded woman.”

  Time to wake up Raisa Hughes! You are the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world. You’ll one day inherit billions of dollars. You know how to face in fear in its tracks. Speak up! “Trent? Please take advantage of me.” No sooner did those words slip out, then his mouth swooped down on mine.

  For such a tough burly man, his lips were surprisingly soft. His kisses became velvet caresses that sent my senses spinning. I thought he might be a true enigma. He, on one hand, showed me soft and gentle. Then, in turn, his one arm locked onto my waist, clasping me in such a strong hold that shouted out powerful and dominant. His other hand began tenderly stroking my hair while his kisses became feverish.

  The way this man could simultaneously be soft and sweet but yet, assertive and domineering put me into a near frenzy. I felt dizzy with the force of my desire. I moaned and pressed myself harder into him. In response, he thrust his tongue between my lips and fire bloomed in my belly.

  “My god, Raisa,” he rasped.

  “What?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Don’t you feel it?”

  His lust filled haze kept me temporarily speechless.

  His hand around my waist, now rested on my arse. He squeezed. “Raisa?” He asked again and I picked up a touch of amusement.

  His pure masculine scent consumed my senses. I felt mesmerized by his mouth that seemed to beckon me. “What did you ask?”

  A slow smile began to build on his mouth. “The sparks between us, Raisa? This is intense. Do you feel it?”

  So, it’s not just me! “You drive me wild. I don’t know what to do.” I could hear how my breathing turned erratic.

  He pulled back abruptly. “Wait. You’re not a …” Trent’s face paled.

  “No.” I laughed and felt thankful for the calming of my nerves. “I’m not a virgin. It’s just that—no man has ever made me feel this way. I ache, like I’ve never felt before.”

  A satisfied smile touched his lips. “Well then, you came for me for help. Let me do something about that.”

  “Time to pop my hood?” Oh Raisa, that had to be the most pathetic joke ever.

  Trent whipped his head back and roared with laughter. “Who knew the aloof law school student had such a sense of humor.”

  “I appear aloof to you?” This had always been my first impression to people. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. I felt different with him.

  Trent took his hand and lifted my chin up, so I was forced to look into his eyes. “I said appear. I can tell that you’re hiding a part of yourself…and that fascinates me.”

  My chest felt tight as a memory surfaced. “When I was growing up, they called me an iceberg.”

  “Well, you know what they say about an iceberg, don’t you Raisa? You only see the tip.”

  Before I could even think, he picked me up in one fluid move. Our lips melded together as he carried me out of the room. He had a small cabin, yet the walk to the rug in front of the fireplace felt slow and leisurely. He kissed me soft and then deep. He licked my lips and then nipped at my chin. I felt like he was making love to my mouth. Just the anticipation over what he could do to the rest of my body caused my insides to turn lava hot.

  He laid my body on a soft fuzzy rug in front of the fireplace. His gaze seemed so intense, I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. My eyes felt locked in place. He positioned himself on his side next to me while stroking my arm up and down. I couldn’t get over how sensual his touch felt.

  “You intrigue me, Raisa, and excite me at the same time.”

  While his touch lit up every cell in my body, I never felt more vulnerable. Yet, at the same time, I wanted to be fully exposed to this man. “Take care of me—Please?” I whispered so soft, I wondered if he heard.

  His lust hazed eyes shone warmly. “I have you.”

  I think that was what he said. His words were swallowed in the most intense kiss I’d ever experienced.

  A shiver of pure carnality rippled down my spine as I experienced this frantic need to touch his skin. When I pushed my hands under his shirt, I must have detonated an explosion. It became a near frenzy of kissing and stroking. Clothes were coming off so fast, I was unsure as who was helping whom. Vaguely, I remember unbuttoning his shirt as his hand unbuttoned my dress jacket. I’d worn a matching pink lace bra. Thank god, I’d always been obsessed with lingerie.

  “Nice,” he murmured as his strong fingers massaged my nipple through my sexy bra to a hard point.

  My hips unconsciously moved on their own it seemed. I felt this urgent need to grind myself against him. I’d never acted like this with a man before.

  He moved over me, holding himself up by his forearms. His naked chest outlined by amazingly defined pectorals and huge biceps.

  I knew when he had his clothes on that he’d be a powerful sight. Now with his shirt off, I felt even more overwhelmed by his raw strength. “Trent—I want…” I said with bated breath.

  “What? What do you want?” He breathed out roughly.

  “I—I don’t k—know,” I stuttered.

  “Then, let me help you figure it out,” he replied mischievously as his hands vigorously removed my skirt.

  The feel of his hands on my bare thighs quickly became mind meltingly erotic.

  His eyes were glazed as he glanced down at my nakedness. His expression glinted with mischief at the same moment his thumb began to massage my clit. “Oh yeah, you weren’t kidding about being wet,” he crooned.

  When the movement of his thumb picked up speed and deepened, my body jolted with uncontrollable desire. His thumb continued to stroke while he pressed one finger inside of me. His finger felt long and deep. I found myself rolling my hips in time with his hand. A throbbing ache swelled inside of me. My head rocked back and I moaned just as I felt Trent’s mouth swoop down on my pussy. He let his tongue glide and then flick softly on my hardened clit in such an excruciating way I thought I was going to self-combust. “Trent!” I shouted out.

  I felt his heated chuckle on my sensitive skin as he went back to work. He licked a hot path up and down my pussy, nipped at my inner thighs, and basically—kept torturing me.

  “Dammit!” I think I said but it came out all garbled.

  Trent answered by latching his lips on my clit and sucking until it tingled and burned.

  I felt the release traveling up and down my spine until it vibrated and exploded. My hips bucked and my back arched as I saw white dots under my eyes. So, that’s what it’s all about. Fuck… that felt incredible.

  I became aware of Trent moving but I couldn’t do much else. My body felt like a limp noodle.

  “Now that’s a satisfied smile.” Trent’s passion hazed voice broke my bewilderment.

  Laying at my side, it was then that I noticed...he’d removed his jeans. I got up on one elbow and gaped in astonishment. What a sight to behold. Not only did his massive muscular chest awe me but, of course, he had a rock hard erection that matched. His cock reached his belly button. It jutted up, hard and unyielding. My mouth watered at what had to be the most deliciou
s man I’d ever set my eyes on. “You’re as stunning as the pictures you paint,” I murmured, totally spellbound.

  “Raisa, I know we just met but what I said earlier…” Trent paused.

  “What’s wrong?” A knot formed in my belly at his nervous expression.

  “I feel a connection to you. It’s this crazy need to take care of you. I know it probably sounds ridiculous. You’re in law school. You obviously have the brains to make it. Although, I know that the life of a public defender isn’t easy. I want to be there for you. I don’t know where these feelings are coming from but I’d like to explore them further…If that’s okay?”

  “You want to take care of me?” Me? Raisa Hughes, the ice queen. Then, I realized he needed to know. “Trent, I, uh have a confession.”

  His face paled “Are you married?”

  “No.” I felt gratitude to be able to laugh at that. “Worse. I’m rich. Not just average rich either.” I then couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Why did you think that would bother me?” he asked as he pushed my chin back up to look into my eyes.

  “I’ve never had anyone offer to take care of me. I can’t explain how good that feels—but I don’t need you to financially support me. I don’t know how you feel about my—confession about how I’m just a spoiled rich brat. Maybe you’re now disappointed.”

  Trent’s heated gaze traveled up and down along my naked body. “Oh no, I’m not disappointed at all.” He kissed me deeply.

  As he moved on top of me, I felt his erection resting on my stomach. I looked down. “You already have a condom on?” I asked in amazement.

  Trent smiled sheepishly. “I told you I wanted you as soon as I saw you stranded on the side of the road. I was a little hopeful when you agreed to come back here. I wanted to be prepared, so I put the condom in my pocket when you were making a phone call. Now…” Trent’s finger traced a path up my thigh to my stomach and up to my breasts. He began circling my nipple in such a way that his touch electrified me.

  My back arched and Trent chuckled. “Finish what you were saying!” I demanded to get some ease from his playful torture.

  “I was going to ask if you will let me take care of you.”

  That reminded me. “You really don’t care that I’m rich?”

  “Why would I? You obviously aren’t a spoiled brat. Anyone who wants to be a public defender is principled and noble. Besides being rich doesn’t just mean having wealth.”

  “Tell me then…” It came out as a mumble, because Trent moved his hand between my thighs. I had difficulty finishing what I wanted to say, “….damn you Trent. I can’t think! Explain to me what you meant by that.”

  He chuckled as his finger swirled in my now very wet pussy. “Rich doesn’t mean having a lot of money. How about being rich with excitement? Rich with passion? Rich with desire? I want to make you very, very rich, Raisa.” He entered me in one fluid thrust.

  Holy shit! He filled me to the point where I wanted to claw at his back. I came to the conclusion that there IS a difference having a well-equipped man inside of you. I felt hot pressure as he grinded on my sensitive clit. His thrusts were hard, almost unrelenting. I lifted my hips to meet every stroke. He bent down and crushed his mouth on mine. I whimpered as I felt the release building again. Trent moaned his approval but didn’t stop his hips from barreling away inside of me.

  While we both struggled for breath, neither of us moved our mouths away. The orgasms came simultaneously upon us as we kept an open kiss. For the first time in my life, I felt—complete.

  It was then when I came to the determination that I wouldn’t mind being rich… anymore.

  ~~~****~~~

  Kate Baum is a librarian that resides in the Hudson Valley area of New York. She lives with her husband of 23 years and five children. Her busy household includes a dog and a cat that were both adopted by the local animal shelter. When she isn’t working, cooking, doing laundry, or taking care of the kids, she loves to write down her fantasies.

  Kate authored the "Girl series" in honor of the group of girlfriends that she grew up with. She wanted to bring back in her stories those memories of times when life was just beginning. That fragile area when you're an adult but still had the freedom to dream because you knew you had time. When each one of us had the world in the palms of our hands. When you were able to make mistakes and easily pick yourself up because you were young and you had a group of girlfriends to watch your back.

  Friendship...Love...Risk...Strength...Men...The Girl Series.

  *

  Kate welcomes feedback at [email protected]

  You can visit her on the web at www.katebaum.com

  Facebook at www.facebook.com/katebaum.12

  Facebook Girl series group at www.facebook.com/#!/girlseriesbykatebaum

  Twitter at katebaumbooks

  FALLING

  By

  Siobhan MacKenzie

  CHAPTER ONE

  Right until the moment his private plane hit the water, Alexander St. Thomas was sure that the pilot who had come so highly commended was going to pull them out of the rapid descent. He’d been so sure. So damned sure. The plane had evened out to a degree, the descent not as sharp as when the lightning hit the first engine, then the second. But the plane was still falling from the sky and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

  He felt so sure that the damned pilot would save the day that he’d refused to put the bloody seatbelt on. The plane skipped along the top of the water, a metal stone tossed by some giant child. Alex bounced around in the cabin, pinging off the walls and ceiling. One of the overhead compartments flew open and he felt the grazing blow of one corner dancing off his temple. He had a mere split second to curse his luck before the plane dipped and the tail section flipped it upside down before breaking completely off from the fuselage.

  He landed face down near the cabin that housed the cockpit, breaking his nose in the bargain. He lay still for a few moments, trying to get the air back in his lungs from where he’d hit the floor so hard it’d knocked the breath out of him. He tasted the blood in the back of his throat, but the lights had all gone out, so it became hard to tell how badly he was bleeding. A sharp pain in his side told him he’d probably bruised his ribs. But that seemed to be the least of his worries right now. He smelled the salt of the ocean. That was not supposed to happen.

  It seemed so quiet at first that he almost didn’t hear it. It registered as a small sound, something the ocean might be saying, trying to get him out into the frigid water. Then he heard it again, a quiet scream that sounded like help. From the cockpit cabin. He raised his head, feeling the trickle run down from his nose over his top lip. Alex wiped it away with an absentminded back of his hand and struggled to his knees.

  “Help! God, please. Someone,” the voice gurgled, a little louder now. “Help, God, help!”

  He managed to stand, instantly lightheaded. He wanted to puke, but the wave of nausea and the vertigo faded back. He put his hand out for the door handle and found nothing. He slapped at the door, hitting the seam and still not finding the damned handle. “I’m here,” he croaked, then stopped to clear his throat. “I’m here,” he said again, more forcibly. He pounded on the door a few times, hopefully getting the attention of whoever was calling. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” the voice answered, decidedly female now. “Please, I can’t—I can’t get out. Please, help me.”

  “I’m trying,” Alex whined. “I can’t find the fucking door.”

  “Up—side—down,” the voice called. “We’re. Upside down.”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  Of course, the plane flipped over. Of course. Alex moved to the other side of the door, moving his hands more carefully, around the seam this time. He found the door, beaming with satisfaction—not that anyone could see it. He put both hands to the handle and jerked it up. Only, it refused to move. He shoved, harder and hard, working it constantly. Son of a bitch! He gave one more mighty shove! �
��I can’t. The fucking thing is locked. Why the fuck did you lock the damned thing?”

  “We didn’t,” the voice answered, getting huskier now. “Law.”

  “Well, it’s a stupid law.” He shoved the handle once more. “Where’s the goddamn key?”

  “Flight attendant.” The voice was getting weaker.

  He had to hurry. He stepped back, fighting the return of the nausea, glancing around wildly. Where was the goddamn flight attendant?

  He found her in the jump seat, near the door. Her mouth was open in a silent scream. A rivulet of blood ran down from her mouth and nose, dripping from her forehead into her hair. Her head dangled from the stalk of her neck, her eyes wide and forever—staring into the great nothing.

  Alex wiped his upper lip once again. The key was in her pocket. He had to get the key. But she was dead. He would have to dig in the pockets of a dead woman to get the key. He would have to touch her body. For some reason, he found that very distasteful.

  “Hurry. Please. Water. Coming in now.”

  There was no one else to do it. He saw the other bodies now—his personal assistant, the other flight attendant, the reporter from Time Magazine. They lay in the same positions they’d died in when the plane flipped. Alex gritted his teeth and began rummaging through the dead woman’s pockets. He finally succumbed to the nausea just as his hand closed around the metal object, turning his head politely to vomit.

  The moan from behind the door motivated him into moving a little faster. He fumbled the key into the door lock, feeling the click of it as the tumblers turned, and flung it wide open. There was a green glow coming from the cockpit—the lights hadn’t shorted out yet. But he could tell from the water streaming in through a crack in the plane’s windshield that it was just a matter of minutes before the glass gave way. He stepped over the top of the threshold, into the cabin.

  She wasn’t bleeding but she was hanging upside down. Some of her hair had pulled loose from the tight bun she wore, cascading down towards what was the ceiling of the cabin. One eye was swelling fast, along with the cheek below it. She pressed one hand against her chest—the safety harness must have been cutting into her—while the other dangled over her head. “Help,” she whispered once more, the other eyelid fluttering.

 

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