“You boys today,” she whispers in his ear, “tasted so good. All that cum. Do you have more for me?”
She’s pornographic. She’s perfect.
“Yes.”
“Let me have it—”
“Yes, take it—”
She sinks down. Just an inch. Squeezes around him. His eyes fly open. She’s a shadow above him, gilded by the silver of the stars around them. She’s setting him on fire with her body. Then she’s moving, lifting off him and lowering herself on Renzo instead.
“Christ,” Rob whispers.
She’s giving Renzo just a taste. Squeezing around him, too shallow. Making Renzo curse too. She places her palm flat against his chest to steady herself and rocks back and forth, moaning as she hits some sweet spot.
When she moves back across Renzo’s body, Rob helps her eagerly. His hands close around her waist and pull her back down to him. She reaches down, holding the leaking tip of his cock in place so she can position him just so. Rob grits his teeth as she sinks again, this time deeper, like she can’t quite help herself. He feels his dick parting her and aches to push. To flip her over and get better leverage so he can go as deep as he can. He’s not sure if he wants to eradicate all traces of Renzo or work them into her. The intimacy, the lack of barriers between them, is making him crazy.
Renzo’s warmth disappears from beside him. Before Rob can think to wonder, Jade is lifted away. Both of them groan. Renzo kneels over him with Jade in his arms, in his control. The display of strength is as arousing as it is frustrating. Rob’s hips surge up but Jade is lifted away before he can take advantage.
“You wanted to share her,” Renzo says.
Oh.
Renzo pushes her so she slides down onto Rob—so wet, no resistance. They whimper at the flood of sensation. She’s ready but he’s still big, and the pressure makes them cry out again. She shifts, wanting to move, but Renzo’s hands on her shoulders keep her seated exactly where she is. Rob has none of that leverage he wants so badly. He can only jerk his hips beneath her, putting pressure on her pubic bone as she leans forward seeking friction.
Later, he’ll have no idea how long they move like this. All he knows is that the pressure builds and builds under Renzo’s direction. That Jade moves where he tells her, that Rob moves where he tells him. That eventually they are both begging for release.
Renzo comes just after Jade does, hot against their skin. Rob’s orgasm takes him by surprise in the end. He’s buried deep when the spasms take him, and they murmur encouragement as he lets himself go.
Chapter Seven
Rob wakes again in his own bed, with his head surprisingly clear and his body still humming. He takes a moment to soak it in, letting the memories lap over him like the waves he can hear against the hull of the ship. His skin is covered in trophies—the marks of her teeth, bruises from his fingers.
Today, there’s a pair of swimming shorts laid out for him. They’re pale blue, and fitted, like the ones worn by Daniel Craig in his first Bond film. Jade’s idea, he thinks, and grins. The trunks fit perfectly, of course, leading to the question of what they could possibly have in store for him today. He hadn’t needed any such thing last night, when they’d eventually dragged themselves out of the cushions and down to one of the pools. Floating there beside them, with the white noise of his own blood deafening his ears, he’d felt truly at peace.
He’ll take that with him, he knows, along with this new focus he’s found here. The satisfaction of something worth pursuing will keep him on this course.
He emerges onto the deck to see Renzo and Jade deep in conversation. She’s wearing a scarlet one-piece that shows off her athletic body. A matching scarf around her throat and looped up over her head adds a touch of supermodel to the scene. Renzo’s in navy shorts and a gleaming white polo shirt.
They look expensive and untouchable, yet as Rob approaches he can see that he’s not the only one with marks. There’s a hint of beard-burn on Renzo’s throat from Rob’s attentions, and Jade’s holding herself a little self-consciously, like she can still feel them deep inside her. They break off their conversation as he approaches, and Rob feels a surge of exhilaration at the heavy-lidded looks on both of their faces as they watch him approach. There’s no way he can possibly indulge again this morning—surely even these two must have refractory periods—but he can think of plenty of other fascinating things they could do with that bit of code he created yesterday, those handcuffs and whatever that Map overlay button does.
Jade takes in the sight of him with raised brows. “You look like you’ve been attacked by a school of bloodsucking jellyfish.”
“Very nice,” Renzo agrees. He traces one particularly dark bruise, pressing firmly enough to make Rob jump.
“I wonder what the locals will think?” Jade muses. “Sea god or sea monster?”
Rob, who has been staring down at Renzo’s tanned hand on his skin, blinks up at her. “Locals?”
Her eyes are too bright. He’s reminded immediately of the way she looked at the party, that greedy predator’s grin. Glancing warily over his shoulder, he sees that the endless blue-white of the horizon has smudged into a darker band of brown-grey. As Estrella storms across the waves, the smudge begins to resolve itself into sand and rock, with little stick people moving across it.
“Land-ho,” she says.
Surprised, Rob turns to Renzo. “We’re making port?”
It’s Jade who replies, “We are making port this evening. You’ll be leaving a little earlier.” She gestures, and Rob sees that the springboard from the pool on the mid-deck has been moved out over a gap in the railing. It’s a…plank.
“You’ve got to be joking.” The shoreline still looks very far away. “You’re going to throw me overboard again?”
“Oh, man up, big boy. I don’t think there are any sharks.”
“None except you,” he mutters. Rob appeals to reason. “Renzo, you can’t be serious.”
He looks unconcerned. “I told you from the beginning, the lady may do with her captive as she pleases.”
Rob stares at them both, then the humour of his situation bursts over him. “You’re both bloody lucky I can swim.”
Renzo’s farewell kiss is spicy but all too brief. “Don’t disappoint us, corazón.”
Laughing, Rob says, “Trust me, there’s only one thing more intimidating than your hospitality, and that’s your non-disclosure agreement. You’ll hear from me soon.”
They shake hands, more lingeringly, then Rob lets his pirate crowd him out onto the board. She pushes roughly at him, like she wants to touch him but needs a good excuse.
“You’ll come to London?”
“I prefer to work here. June’s much nicer on the Med.”
“London,” he tells her. “Within the month. Or I’ll come find you. And stare like a sulking teenager. And burn your damn firewalls to the ground.”
Predator’s grin. Greedy, greedy. Gleeful, even. I did that, he thinks.
“Oh, fine.” She winks at him. “I suppose we can always test each other’s protocols.”
At the very edge, they pause, balancing together. Her scarf brushes across his skin as it flutters like a red flag in the sea breeze.
“One more kiss,” he demands of her, “for luck.”
She tastes like salt as she smiles against his mouth.
He dives.
About the Author
Rachel Randall draws inspiration from the kinky, classy cool of London. She writes characters with interesting day jobs, who know what they want and how to ask for it (usually with a slow slide down to their knees). Her favourite words include ‘indulgence’, ‘filthy’, and ‘Here are your backstage passes to the Franz Ferdinand gig’. One day she’ll figure out how to get away with naming a character after Isambard Kingdom Brunel, especially now that she’s moved to Bristol.
Rachel believes in evidence-based smut, and keeps a pet scientist in the house for peer review.
Email: read
[email protected]
Rachel loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Rachel Randall
His Christmas Present
Taking It Off
Playing With Prudence
Tempting Temps: Temporary Truce
Sultry Solstice: The Festival Spirit
PLEASURE FOR HIM
Jan Springer
Dedication
For Franz and Annamaria
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Louis Vuitton: Louis Vuitton Malletier, S.A.
Dom Perignon: Moet Hennessy USA, Inc
Chapter One
Lily Rose Tiffany gasped at the intense pleasure created by her billionaire boyfriend’s oral lovemaking. Impulsively, she speared her fingers through his silky hair and her nails dug into his scalp as she desperately clutched at his head between her wide open thighs. The tip of his hot tongue lashed her tender clit and then he moved his mouth to lap at her labia. He took turns with each plump fold, sucking deeply until her senses became inflamed and the fire of need scrambled her self-control.
“Ryland, please!” she cried, fighting to catch her breath as he hung her at the edge of bliss. The sensations he created with his mouth were so intense, so agonising that her thighs trembled and her belly quivered and she wanted him inside her, possessing her. But damn him, Ryland Walton ignored her pleas. He chuckled against her pussy, his warm lips melting over her clitoris. He lapped at her aching bud, taking his sweet time in making her come.
He was being rougher than usual tonight and deep down inside her, she knew why. It happened sometimes, when he was away from her for too long, and when he wanted to experience his desire of sharing her with another man. But she couldn’t think about that. Not right now. She just wanted him to fuck her.
He was as tense as she was. Tenser. She could see it in the muscles rippling across his tanned back and the muscles spasming in his broad shoulders as he held her hips tightly with his big hands while he devoured her pussy.
The sexual tension had zapped through the air the instant he’d let himself into her twentieth-floor Manhattan luxury penthouse suite only a few minutes earlier. She’d become aware of his need for sex in his quick predator-like steps as he’d stalked into her bedroom. She’d been sitting on her bed putting together an arrangement of colour swatches for a new client who wanted her entire home redecorated.
Lily hadn’t expected Ryland to be back in town from his business trip to China for at least a few days. She hadn’t been prepared for him. She wore no make-up. No sexy negligee. Only her favourite comfortable, frumpy lace nightie.
He hadn’t said hello. Hadn’t acted his usual gentlemanly self by asking how his best and only woman was tonight. He’d just glared at her with lust-filled, sex-on-demand brown eyes that had made her shiver with excitement. He’d gruffly ordered her to open her thighs to him. He’d watched hungrily as she’d quickly removed her panties and lifted her nightie, tucking the hem above her breasts, bunching the material under her armpits. He’d slipped off his expensive-looking black suit jacket, untied his black Louis Vuitton tie and removed his shimmering white shirt, folding everything neatly onto a nearby chair.
He appeared sexier than usual with a shadow of growth on his normally clean-shaven chin and cheeks. As he’d stepped out of his perfectly pressed pants and silky underwear, he’d looked needy—his jaw muscles twitching with self-control, his body tense and muscular, his breathing heavy and raspy. He’d given her a visual treat with his long and thick cock, before he’d climbed onto her bed and dived between her legs to feast upon her pussy.
He’d roughly rubbed his bristly cheeks against her sensitive thighs as he’d buried his face deeper into her soaked pussy. His moist tongue had caressed her clit until she creamed and twisted against his restraining hands. Within seconds, he’d had her craving to be penetrated. To be his.
Now she yelped as his sharp teeth tenderly nipped against her engorged clit. Cried out as his moist tongue laved away the pain. He kept mouth-fucking her, building the tension, making it swell through her like a giant wave until she was gasping for air.
Finally, he lifted his head from her pussy. His lips glistened with her juices and his eyes were dark and determined. He quickly moved off the mattress and stood at the side of the bed, breathing heavily. Reaching into her night table where she kept her condoms, he withdrew one, and then ripped the foiled package and quickly sheathed himself. She trembled with need as he climbed onto the bed and moved over her. He settled between her thighs, and she moaned at the intrusion entering her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels into his rock-hard ass.
He thrust into her with a magnificent growl and she whimpered at his thickness and the wicked invasion. She curled her hands over his vibrating shoulders and arched into him, accepting his heavy girth. He withdrew and thrust into her again, going deeper. And again. His plunges were desperate and rough, hitting all the right nerve endings, sparking more pleasure.
She closed her eyes as he lowered his head and his mouth melted over hers. His lips were hard and demanding and he kissed her harshly, his dominance leaving her heady and vulnerable. Quickly, she became lost in a swirl of erotic tremors. Her body tightened with pleasure and she exploded in a crash of shudders. She convulsed around his cock, her muscles greedily clenching and loving him.
He groaned and slipped his hot tongue past her lips, driving into her mouth, mating fiercely with her tongue. The bold thrust left her breathless.
He fucked her harder, his strokes driving deep into her, possessing her, claiming her. She bucked mindlessly beneath him, becoming lost in the carnal sensations, embracing the agonising pleasure. His body tightened and he thrust once, twice and again then came the warmth of his release.
* * * *
Ryland lay awake for a long time after Lily had fallen asleep. In a couple of hours he would have to leave again and head back to China in his private jet. He was expected to open several more of his spas over there, but he hadn’t been able to stay away from Lily for a day longer, so he’d jetted back here to be with her for a few hours.
He loved her so much, sometimes he ached from it. He had probably fallen in love with her at first sight. He’d known her more than two years, having met her at a friend’s cocktail party where his friend had shown her off to the party members as the interior designer who’d redecorated his California mansion.
She was the famous Lily Tiffany, the decorator who catered to the rich and famous. She had great taste in how to match a person with the perfect colour scheme, and Lily had captured his friend’s jovial mood perfectly in the rooms she’d tackled for him.
She also knew how to dress. She’d been wearing a shimmering white backless, ankle-length dress that hugged her sweet curves. The enticing slits that ran up the sides of the dress showed off the longest, most luscious legs he’d ever seen. Immediately he’d reacted to her legs and to her confident laugh as it floated in the spring breeze. His body had tensed with an acute awareness he’d never experienced before with any other woman.
His cock had hardened into such a tight mess, he’d been barely able to think straight. He’d wanted to possess her. To dominate her and to make love to her right then and there. She was tall. Half a head shorter than his six feet. The fascinating way her shoulder-length, sandy blonde hair had shimmered beneath the crystal chandeliers had made Ryland’s breath halt in his lungs.
Sensing he had been watching her, she’d turned her head and when she’d looked at him and smiled so innocently, he’d known she would be the woman for him. That night they hadn’t been able to keep their eyes off each other. After he’d been introduced to Lily, they’d been an item in the gossip magazines since. The paparazzi followed them wherever they went and the magazine
s were always commenting on the loving way he looked at her, reporting it was just a matter of time before they were married.
Hell, he still couldn’t keep his eyes off her, especially when she slept. She wore no makeup and her natural beauty mesmerised him. With her hair tussled from the wild sex and her bottom lip plumped in a cute pout, she looked vulnerable and very hot. She brought the Neanderthal out in him and sometimes it was hard to control himself around her. Just like tonight, when he’d found her sitting on her bed. As he’d stalked towards her the heated gaze in her eyes had ignited his need to fuck her to new heights.
It was getting increasingly difficult to be away from her for long periods of time. He missed her like crazy whenever she was out of sight. Yet, every once in a while, a fantasy rose from deep inside him. A fantasy to pleasure Lily in ways that no single man could pleasure a woman.
He’d shared her on two previous occasions with men he trusted. Men such as himself, who were members of a secret group of billionaires who enjoyed sharing their women, or men, as the case might be. The desire was very strong inside him to once again share her and Ryland knew what his next step would be.
* * * *
Early the next morning, Lily awoke with a start. Her pussy throbbed with an exquisite soreness from Ryland’s fierce plunges and her inner thighs burned sweetly from where he’d rubbed his whiskered face. Need for more rough sex pulsed through her and she reached out to him but her hand fell upon empty air. She blinked open her eyes and disappointment rocked her. Ryland wasn’t there and from the heavy silence permeating her two-thousand-square-foot apartment, she knew he had left. But on his pillow, she spied a small white velvet box.
Sharing the Billioniare Page 9
