Rapine 3: Retrieved by the Billionaire

by Charlotte Rose

  Julian is the perfect man—every woman’s dream. He treats me well and makes sure I am one hundred percent happy. It’s as though making me happy is all that matters to him. He does require me to satisfy him in the bedroom, but that’s something that pleases me just as much as it pleases him.

  I love role-playing and enacting rape scenarios with him. I feel safe even when he dresses entirely in black and wears a face mask, revealing only his gleaming blue eyes. He barks orders at me and plays a rough, violent role with an unloaded gun. I love it all the more when I can’t walk properly the next day.

  I’m not sure all women would agree to play a rape victim. Not many would want a gun held to their heads. They wouldn’t relish being forced to undress and then tied up with their legs spread wide on a four-poster bed. So maybe Julian isn’t perfect for every woman, but he’s perfect for me.

  Besides his wild sexual fantasies, Julian has his share of character imperfections such as a temper, and closing off from me.

  His temper occasionally flares when he doesn’t get what he wants. However, he never takes it out on me, even if I do something that upsets him. He simply retreats to his “man cave,” which is his martial arts gym. Once he cools off, he returns, acting as though nothing bothered him in the first place.

  Julian sometimes closes off from me and doesn’t tell me what he is thinking or feeling. He occasionally gets so wrapped up in his work that I don’t see him or hear from him for an entire day. I only feel him come into bed at night and snuggle next to me.

  When I was younger, my mother wisely told me, “You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.” My mother explained that love involves seeing the imperfections in another person and loving that person regardless. I can say that I truly love Julian and all that he encompasses.

  On a beautiful July morning, we welcome a healthy baby boy. We are ecstatic. I couldn’t help it—I named our son Julian.

  It’s very tiring at times, being at the newborn baby’s beck and call, but it’s much easier when you have unlimited wealth. Julian has hired a live-in nanny to help me. I don’t have to cook or clean or do anything that most mothers have to do. However, I’m still the first one to get up in the middle of the night, every single night, and tend to the baby’s needs.

  We stay for another year in Norway, then move to Geneva, Switzerland, settling down in Julian’s main residence. Julian has set up my mother in a beautiful four-bedroom home by the lake, about a ten-minute drive from our house.

  Switzerland is the ideal place to live and raise a family. It’s safe, clean, and beautiful. In winter, the snow covers everything, creating a fairy-tale look. Julian and I ski during the day, then spend romantic nights by a blazing fire while the wind whistles outside.

  During the summer, we frequent the many stylish restaurants and coffee shops in Geneva. We go for long walks in the meadows. We enjoy late-night swims under the moon in our outdoor infinity pool, surrounded by mountains. We let our son run through the lush greenery surrounding our home.

  My life would be so different had I never met Julian. It’s incredible that one moment and one person can change your life so drastically and make you happier than you ever thought possible. I now understand what Julian has been trying to tell me all along—that life is about happiness and love. Those are the only two things that matter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  We celebrate our son’s second birthday. Little two-year old Julian looks like his daddy, and I can imagine him following in his father’s footsteps, stealing a woman’s heart one day. He is a handful at times, but with a live-in nanny and Julian’s help, he already shows signs of keen intelligence.

  “I have a party I’d like to take you to,” Julian says after dinner one night. “The nanny will care for our boy while we are gone. We can enjoy a much-needed night out.”

  I can definitely use a night out. I haven’t let loose in a long time as I have been so focused on the two Julians in my life. “I’m up for a party. I could use a night out and a drink.”

  “I will make sure to get you good and drunk,” Julian says, flashing his irresistibly gorgeous smile at me. “But first I want to ravish you,” he whispers.

  Julian carries me caveman-style into the bedroom. He carefully peels off my dress and underwear as though I’m a long-awaited Christmas present.

  Julian lets me strip him naked. I take off his suit and shirt, savoring the feel of his bulging arms and admiring the sculpted, sharp lines of his tanned chest and stomach.

  He kisses me deeply, savoring my mouth. I close my eyes, inhale the masculine, spicy cologne emanating from the side of his neck, and taste his succulent lips.

  He kisses in a very manly way. It’s not forceful; it’s take-charge, domineering, and assertive. He alternates between soft, gentle caresses on my lips and heated, fervent French kisses. My body unexpectedly reacts to his masculine scent and his kisses in primal, impulsive way.

  He continues to kiss me adeptly. I put my hands on his chest, feeling the definition of his rock-solid pectoral muscles. I slide my hands down onto his defined, eight-pack. He has a fighter’s body, and my female brain cannot help but be aroused.

  My nipples harden and I can feel my insides release wetness. I swirl my tongue around his. He groans as I suck on his bottom lips.

  I place my hand onto his knee and slide it up his thigh toward his cock. He groans when my fingers brush the hard bulge beneath his pants. I press and rub my fingers against his pants where his cock anxiously awaits me.

  He pulls me toward him, wrapping his bulky arms around my waist. I meet his eyes and smile. The look in his eyes fills me with warmth. I feel safe, cared for, and loved.

  I take off his pants, revealing his powerful, steel-like legs and his thick, heavy package. I get down on my knees. I lick my lips, readying my mouth. His hard cock twitches.

  I lick around the head, filling my mouth with the taste of his salty, slightly sweet pre-cum. I suck at the head, initiating the release of more pre-cum into my mouth. I swallow greedily.

  I cup his balls in the palm of my hand and massage them gently, teasing and preparing their contents to fill me. I lick his balls and take one into my mouth, sucking gently.

  “Fuck, Cheryl, just like that,” Julian commands.

  I suckle each of his sacks, leaving a warm coating of my saliva on them. Julian grabs my head, pulling my mouth away from his balls and guiding it to his cock. I take the cue and fill my mouth with his length. I suck hard as Julian rams his hips forward, fucking my mouth.

  I feel his length push back into my throat, bypassing my gag reflex. He moves at a harsh, fast pace, hissing through clenched teeth as he thrusts. I’m eager to please him and swallow his cum, eager to have him fill every nook and cranny of my body with his seed.

  I sense his body stiffen, getting ready to expel the contents of his balls into my mouth. Instead, though, he withdraws, positions me onto all fours and gets behind me.

  I push him back and scream. “No, stop, don’t do this to me!” I rush away from him, but Julian strides toward me, cornering me against a wall. “Please, at least if you are going to do this, wear a condom,” I plead, standing naked and defenseless in front of him.

  Julian steps forward, his pupils dilated, his lips parted. This is turning him on beyond anything else I can do or say.

  I get dripping wet as I anticipate him grabbing me, fucking me hard, and spilling his liquid inside me, satisfying himself and using me for his pleasure as though I were a sex toy or his rape victim.

  I admire his handsome face, watching as his manly jaw clenches and his azure eyes scan me, picturing all the dirty things he wants to do to me.

  “Fuck condoms,” he bellows. “I’m going to fuck you hard. You will be so raw and frayed inside that walking will not be an option.”

  It’s a primal moment as we gaze at each other, me enacting a victim, helpless and at his mercy, and him enacting the strong, muscular pr
edator, able to do with me as he pleases.

  “I will fill that pussy so full that my sperm will drip out of you for days, until the next time I want to empty my balls,” he growls.

  “So you are planning on raping me more than once?” I cry out, trying to sound terrified.

  “You will stay locked up in this room until I’ve had my fill of you.” Julian turns his lips into an evil, salacious grin.

  I release more wetness, loving nothing more than the idea of pleasing my powerful, primal husband.

  I make a motion to escape, but Julian grabs me, throws me on the bed, and gets on top of me. He shoves his cock into me as though he were in a rush.

  He buries himself to the hilt inside me. I feel a stab of pain as his cock deeply lodges within me and he sets a steady, hard, pounding rhythm.

  “No, please,” I cry out.

  He plunges deeper and deeper, increasing the pace, his balls slap loudly against my ass.

  He’s so hard it feels as though his cock will rip and tear my delicate inner tissue. I am at Julian’s mercy and loving it. With every powerful thrust my breasts swing forward and backward. His thrusting speed increases until my breasts are wildly and uncontrollably jostling. Julian fucks me like he’s never fucked me before, wild and merciless, filling my ears with the sound of his harsh breathing through clenched teeth.

  He stills until the only movement I feel is his pulsating cock buried deep. A sudden hot, thick, massive blast of his cream shoots against my g-spot and inner walls. All the muscles in my body clamp tight and for a moment my world is a burst of pleasure. I climax, and my body winds down, turning into a puddle of boneless flesh.

  Julian groans as he rolls his hips, still releasing the remnants of his balls. I twitch as I come down from my high. I lay under Julian, relaxed and satisfied. He fucks incredibly when it’s staged rape.

  I whimper as he slowly pulls out of me, unleashing a hot, sticky flood onto my inner thighs. My insides feel tender and drenched with Julian’s seed.

  We lay in each other’s arms for a while, a warm mess of body fluid and sweat, tangled in our white silk sheets.

  Julian makes the first effort to move. He sits up so that my head is in his lap. He lights a cigar and smokes it leisurely as he gently runs his hands through my hair, and up and down my back.

  “Have some, Cheryl,” Julian whispers. “You can finally drink and smoke again.”

  I curl up in his arms and take a few puffs from the cigar. I hold the smoke in my mouth. When I blow it out the whole post-orgasm bliss rises to another level. Seriously, whoever doesn’t smoke after sex is missing out.

  I take another mouthful of smoke, close my eyes, and blow it out through my rounded lips. It doesn’t get any better than this.

  Julian and I finish the cigar, each have a shot of espresso corretto, and dress. I put on a green Valentino dress, revealing just the right amount of cleavage. When Julian sees me, his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

  “Fuck, you look���” He searches for the right word. “You look breathtaking. You are breathtaking.” He grins with an evil spark in his eyes. “If we weren’t already running late, I’d rip that dress right off you and ravish you again.”

  I scan Julian up and down as though I’m laying my eyes on him for the first time. I am speechless as I take in his strong, masculine build dressed in a classy tuxedo. His black hair has a healthy gleam, his tan the color of rich coffee. His knowing, bright blue eyes scrutinize me beneath thick, lush lashes.

  “You are practically fucking me with your eyes, Cheryl,” Julian says and chuckles. “If only you did that on the day we met, I’d say you were cheating on me behind your fiancé’s back before you even took off your clothes.”

  “I’d say it should be illegal for you to wear a tux.”

  “I’d say I’ll do whatever it takes to get me what I want,” he responds.

  Julian guides me into a large lounge area in a private, members-only nightclub where I see men smoking cigars and drinking champagne worth more than most people make in a year. The interior is sleek and mostly black with some hints of red.

  “Stay by my side,” Julian commands. He raises his arm to let me wrap my hands around it.

  I cling to his side as he leads me past hundreds of wealthy men and women, stopping occasionally to greet and talk with a few. I see men in tuxedos and women in long evening gowns, wearing glittering jewelry that looks like it’s worth millions of dollar. Even the young, well-groomed waiters are wearing lavish tuxedos.

  I’ve never seen so much wealth concentrated in such a small area. It’s extravagant and glitzy. Both the men and women admire me as I stride past them. Many of the women gaze longer than they should at Julian. I cling onto his arm tighter.

  “I’d like to introduce you to some good friends of mine,” he whispers as we approach a group of eight men seated at round tables and couches. They’re drinking alcohol, smoking cigars, talking energetically, and laughing among themselves. A short distance away, a group of five beautiful young women talk, drink, and laugh.

  As soon as the men and women spot Julian, they stop chatting.

  “May I introduce my wife,” Julian says proudly.

  Everyone stands and offers his or her hand. The men cast admiring eyes up and down my body. The women are polite and sweet, complimenting my dress. I learn that the five women are married to five of the men. Three men are single.

  We spend the evening with them, chatting about travel, luxury cars and jewelry, and upcoming parties and charity events. A waiter circles us constantly, making sure everyone has a full flute of champagne in his or her hand at all times.

  I spend some time talking with the ladies while Julian talks with the men. The women inform me that for the past two years, Julian has declined many invitations to parties and events. They tell me how surprised they are that he has settled down. They thought he would be a bachelor for life, as he liked the ladies too much to stick with just one.

  “He’s wonderful with the baby and is a very good father and husband,” I say when the women won’t stop talking about Julian’s playboy days.

  I also speak with a few of the men—Mark, Andrew, Timothy—and they tell me how glad they are that Julian has settled down with someone.

  While I am talking with Andrew, Julian approaches, wraps his arm around me, and gently presses his lips to my ear. “Remember, my cum is inside you,” he whispers. “And there will never be a day when my cum is not inside you. You will always have my cum deeply imbedded inside your tight little pussy.”

  He such a bad boy. I smile, flutter my lashes, and pretend that my husband has whispered something incredibly sweet, a term of endearment such as “I love you, sweetheart” or “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Julian starts talking with Andrew about his latest real estate developments. I learn that Andrew also owns many residential and commercial properties around the world.

  Mark joins our conversation, bragging about his real estate investments in China and Australia. The three men go on to discuss businesses they have recently bought or sold. I gather that most of Julian’s friends make money the same way Julian does and must have as much wealth as my husband, if not more.

  I listen for a while, amazed at how intelligently and eloquently Julian speaks with his friends. I peck him on the lips and tell him that I’m going to talk to the girls.

  “Okay sweetheart,” he whispers. “Remember, when I get you home I’m going to pump you full with more of my cum.”

  I smirk and glance at the two men, who have no clue what he’s whispered into my ear. I love that Julian can be so civilized and talk so eloquently with his friends, yet act so primal and whisper dirty things to me while others are close by.

  I start up a conversation with two of the women, Anita and Sandra, who seem to like me the most. We arrange to go out together in the near future. I gather that the three other women are still analyzing me, trying to decide whether or not they like me.

  A
fter a while, I develop a maternal longing to go home and check on little Julian. Even though he is in good hands, I have a hard time being away from him for long. For the past two years, I’ve spent every waking moment with him. The longest I’ve been away from him has been the few hours during the night when he sleeps.

  We make our way home and find our boy tucked away, sleeping soundly in his bedroom. Julian and I stand by his crib, watching as his chest rises and falls with each little breath he takes.

  “Now that I have you alone, I can deliver on the promises I made earlier this evening,” Julian whispers. He sweeps me off my feet and carries me into our bedroom.

  I wake up the next morning with a mild hangover and a deep ache from where Julian violated me last night. He has left a bottle of Advil on the nightstand.

  A ping from my phone startles me. Hazily, I read the text message on the screen. My heart feels as though it has jumped into my throat.

  I’m going to have you. One day.

  Kiss your husband goodbye.

  My mind works at high speed. Who has my cell number? It must be someone I recently met. The only male candidates were at last night’s party. Is it one of the men I talked to? What will Julian do when he hears about this?

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