The Billionaire and the Virgin: H's story (The Billionaires Book 1)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Alex
STALK GISELE
Other Books by Gisele
Billoniare and the Virgin
By:
GISELE ST.CLAIRE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2017 By: Gisele St.Claire
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Gisele St.Claire holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
***
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Chapter 1
H
June 2004
“Henry, when can I take this blindfold off? I swear I’ll trip over in a minute and squash the baby.”
“A few more steps, honey, and there’s no way I’m going to let you do anything that will harm a hair on either your’s or our son’s head.”
I guided her further from the car down to the driveway until Veronica faced the door.
“Ready?” I asked. “I’m going to remove the blindfold, so it might take a moment to adjust to the light.”
“Hurry, Henry. I’m so goddamn excited.”
I removed the blindfold and my wife gasped. In front of her was the front door of a nine-bedroom house in East Hampton. She took a few steps back and swung around, taking in the enormous yard, then back to the front of the house. She was yet to notice the separate three-bedroom annex and when we eventually walked through the house, she’d see there was a pool house to the rear.
“Henry, what is this?” She asked. My wife was always cautious, she never assumed anything, never took anything for granted.
“This, honey,” I replied, taking her in my arms and stroking her honey-blonde hair, is our new family home. That’s if it meets your approval once we’ve been inside.”
“But, it’s so huge. There’s only the two of us…” She placed her hands across her stomach, “For another five months, anyhow.”
I kissed the top of her forehead. “Our son is just the start. Let’s see how many of the rest of the seven guest bedrooms we’ll be able to fill.”
She laughed at that. Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears. The baby hormones had been making her very emotional of late. “You’d better take me inside to look at it then,” she moved out of my arms and grabbed my hand instead.
I took her through every room one by one. Through the living room with its vast windows that flooded the room with light, with sea-blue couches reminding us that the beach was only a few minutes away. An archway led through to a dining room, with a mirror-topped table that seated ten, and then through again to a magnificent white kitchen. But of course, what I was now desperate to show her was our master suite - a large room painted white, with floor to ceiling windows adjacent to patio doors that led out onto our own private balcony with a stunning view of the ocean.
“Henry, this is too much.” Veronica told me.
“Vee, we came from nothing. Built ourselves up from rock bottom, worked our asses off and now we get to enjoy the benefits of our investments paying off.”
“I guess so,” she looked out at the view. “And it sure is pretty. We get WiFi here okay though, don’t we?”
“Yes, my workaholic wife. You’ll be able to run your property empire from whichever room in the house you decide to turn into your office.”
“I like to keep busy.” She said and then she clutched her head. “Ooooh.” She clutched my arm. “Wow, that hurt.”
“You okay?” I said, and I led her to the edge of the bed. Vee had always suffered with tension headaches, an unfortunate side effect of the stresses of running a billion dollar business, but the last couple of days she’d been complaining more.
“I’m going to ring Doctor Anderson later.” I told her. “It could be due to your blood pressure.”
“You fuss too much.” She said. “I’m just going to freshen up in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“You sure you’re fine?” I asked again and was given a narrow-eyed glare. I raised my hands in surrender. “Backing off.”
“Good.” She smiled. “I love you, Henry Carter, but I’m an independent woman and I can splash water on my face all by myself.”
“I can’t wait for you to see the bathroom.” I said. It was enormous with a free standing bath and separate steam room amongst other luxuries.
Vee had been in the bathroom for a few minutes when I called out to check she was okay. Yes I fussed, yes she could just get used to it. When there was no response, I hurried over to the room, fully expecting her to chastise me once again for fussing.
But she didn’t.
My beautiful wife was slumped on the floor.
I’d not heard her fall because the house was so damn large.
They told me afterward that even if I had heard her I’d have been too late. An undiagnosed brain tumor had taken my beautiful wife. Our baby boy died too inside his mother’s womb at eighteen weeks old.
I lost my wife.
I lost my son.
I lost my ability to love.
My world was gone and with it went my hopes and dreams.
Instead of celebrating life, we mourned the death of a woman taken too soon, and that of my son, taken before he even had the chance to take an independent breath.
I stood at the graveside with Vee’s mother, father, stepfather and her young stepsister. Amelia was just nine years old and spent the entire funeral inconsolable, wrapped in the arms of her parents. I stood beside Vee’s father, who’d never remarried after separating from her mother.
“I’ll never love anyone else.” I told him.
“We’ll understand if you do.” He said, then he looked at his ex-wife, “But I never did.”
I put the house straight back on the market and sold it to the first people who offered on it. I didn’t give a damn what I got for it, I just needed it gone.
I kept the business going. I owed it to my beautiful wife to work my ass off to keep our property empire growing.
Years passed.
I had needs.
I visited a sex club, and I had my needs met, with no strings.
Never again would I marry or try for a family.
I bought the club and named it Club S.
Everyone thought Club S stood for Club Sex.
It didn’t.
It stood for Club Stop. It was where I called time on my life.
Chapter 2
H
Club S. A place of drunken debauchery. A place where I coul
d seek pleasure with no pressure. To everyone there I was H. It had been a long time since I’d been Henry.
The club was decorated in black tones alongside silver accents. Sleek and dark, rather like myself. The people who worked and played here may have thought they knew me, but they didn’t. Only one woman had gotten close a couple years ago. Her name had been Tiffany. What had started out as a pleasurable fuck had become something more. I’d begun to care. But I couldn’t love her, didn’t love her and in the end she married someone else. The fact was I’d arranged for her to meet her future husband. I’d arranged for him to move into the apartment next door to hers. Of course, I hadn’t known then she would marry him. It was a pleasing outcome and freed me to return to what I’d done before - join in the scenes at my club.
At Club S there were rooms where almost anything went. There was also a stage you could hire in advance or if it wasn’t booked, you could bid on the stage in an evening and act out your desires in front of an audience. I’d very rarely been front of stage, preferring to choose a beautiful conquest in the other rooms.
Often, Aidan Hall would join me. A wealthy businessman like myself, Aidan had been begging me to sell him the club for the last year. He wanted to expand and had recently bought an adult film company, GoDown Films. He thought Club S fit into his portfolio nicely, and over the last month or so, his bargaining had stepped up a pace. For the last few years, Aidan had sometimes joined me in a menage. It was only to please women, neither of us were interested in male to male, but sometimes it helped to have a partner to make a woman’s fantasies come true.
Tonight was no exception. Having enjoyed a few scotches at the bar, I moved into the rooms, nodding at the doorman as I went past. I accepted the black wristband with silver stars that showed I was ready to join in the fun, and I mingled amongst the voyeurs. The rooms had large windows, and some members liked only to observe, identified by a white wristband. The rooms could be closed off or opened up, anything really as long as it was consensual. Today had been a fraught business day, I’d had a lot of properties to purchase and manage, and I really needed to employ another member of staff, or let some business go. I could even retire! Maybe, I should consider selling Club S at some point? The fact was I was thirty-eight years old and didn’t know what the fuck to do with my life anymore. I was just going through the motions. The only thing I got satisfaction from these days was fucking and even that was getting old.
I wondered what life would have been like if Vee had lived. How many kids would we have had? Would we have given up the businesses to care for our family? I already knew the answer to that one deep down. Vee had been a career woman. She’d have loved our kids with all her heart, but she’d needed to work, she’d thrived on the buzz of a deal. We’d made a fabulous team. I shook my head to bring myself back to the present time. The scotch had hit and diluted the barrier I placed across my mind, the one that kept trying to tell me that Vee was becoming a ghost wife now, from a time before that now seemed like a different lifetime. It became harder each day to picture her face and to remember our times together. It’s not true that time healed, it’s just it made it difficult to remember.
I looked through a viewing window and found Aidan there with his cock in a redhead’s mouth. She had a pixie crop and looked eager to please. Aidan gave an almost imperceptible nod, and I entered the room.
I slipped off my shoes, shed my black pants and jacket, unbuttoned my shirt, and then removed everything else until I was completely naked.
I was more than comfortable with my body and judging by how the pupils of the redhead’s eyes had just dilated she was happy I was there too. I stood running a hand up and down my ten inch cock. Aidan wasn’t small, but I had a couple of inches on him and I was ready to let ‘Red’ enjoy them.
Aidan slipped out of her mouth and nodded towards me. Red crawled across the floor to me and then took me in her warm mouth. God, I loved the sensation of a warm mouth around my cock and I loved it even more when I thrust myself further into a willing woman’s throat so that drool dribbled down their chins as they tried to manage me. I held on to the back of her head as I felt my cock hit the back of her throat. She handled everything I gave her, no innocent to the act of giving head. That was the thing here at the club most of the time, the people who were members tended to love sex and not get enough of what they wanted in the outside world. It was rarely an innocent person who came to Club S. There were other Clubs in New York for virgins, one in particular that held auctions - Club X. I’d met with the owners there when I first came to New York, let them understand I wasn’t wading in on their territory. They told me I was no threat to them. That I could call my club what I wanted, it would only ever seem a poor copy. I’d like to think I’d done better than that. We had a healthy membership, but I knew that whereas I had kept the business small, Aidan wanted to relaunch, rename and put the place on the map, with a view to expansion across different cities. Once again, I wondered if it was time to let a younger man take the reins and put myself out for retirement. I wasn’t old myself, just jaded and in need of something new in my life, though what that was I had no idea.
I realized I’d become lost in thought while Red was sucking my dick. Was I becoming so desensitized to the club that even this wasn’t doing it for me anymore? I couldn’t look Red in the eyes. I withdrew my cock, turned her over onto all fours, and slammed my cock into her wet heat, making her groan with lust. Aidan thrust his cock back into her mouth and we spit-roasted her. I held onto her hips, driving my cock in her as Aidan cupped and squeezed her breasts. As the pressure built up inside me, I slipped a finger onto her clit and caressed her there until she began to come, the tremors from her orgasm milking my cock. As I reached my own climax, I withdrew my cock and let my silky, sticky stream hit the globes of her white ass. Then I left the room just as Aidan released his own cum right down Red’s throat.
I wiped myself on a towel at the edge of the room and dressed quickly. I’d come and yet had gained no satisfaction mentally from the act I’d just been involved in. It wasn’t working anymore. Being honest, it was becoming as boring as answering emails. Just another job. Yes my cock thanked me for my efforts but my mind yelled its frustration.
We didn’t want Red.
We didn’t want to have sex at the club anymore.
We’re bored, Henry.
Great, I was having mental conversations between my brain and my dick. I really was screwed in a bad way.
I left the club and headed on home.
My driver Matthew pulled up outside the house and I let myself into my apartment. Mary, my housekeeper, had left me a note letting me know where the food she’d prepared for me was and how to reheat it. She’d written a whole host of other things but I had no time to read an essay right now. I’d realized how hungry I was. I would starve to death without her. She had been with me for over ten years now and as the mother of four daughters had at first tried to get me interested in them, bringing them by the apartment with the most stupid excuses until finally they’d all got married and settled down. Then a sadness had come over her that always underlaid her expression. She mothered me, even though I had parents of my own, albeit on the other side of the world. But part of her personality had dulled when she hadn’t been able to fix me.
I heated up the mac and cheese she’d left for me and sat against the kitchen island to tuck into it, grabbing some crusty bread from the bowl she’d left. As I reached to bring her note closer to me on the counter top so I could read the rest of what she’d put, I heard a banging noise, like a door opening or closing.
Fuck. Was someone in my apartment?
Footsteps made their way nearer to where I was. Had Mary not left after all? But why would she still be here? I quickly scanned the note from after the part where Mary had talked about mac and cheese.
So, what a surprise today. Why didn’t you tell me we were expecting a guest? I had to hurry to get the room all ready for her. My, she’s a sweet thing.
A lot different I should expect from when you last saw her. And I’m going to be telling you off for that. Amelia says she hasn’t seen you in fourteen years!
Amelia?
Little Amelia is here?
I jumped off my stool as the door to the kitchen opened and stupidly I expected to see a young girl, my last faded memory being of someone I barely knew being consoled by her parents at my dead wife’s graveside.
But that’s not who came through the door.
A tall, slim woman with golden-blonde long hair, and endless legs is what careered through the door. She was dressed in a short suit with sneakers on her feet. As she saw me she ran and threw her arms around me. All I noticed is that those small pert breasts I glimpsed the shape of through that top were now crushed against my chest. Her arms were around me and her hair was under my nose. She smelled of vanilla.
“Henry. Jeez, man. It’s been years.”
I held her back at arms length and took in her appearance, trying to find some resemblance to Vee, or some hint of the little girl from the graveside but there was nothing. Just a perfect stranger in front of me.
“Amelia?”
“Yes, it’s me. Guess I’ve changed a little, huh? Now why don’t you fix us both a coffee or open some wine, and I’ll tell you why I’m here. I hope it’s not a bad surprise? I figured you’d have space for a guest for a night and Mary said it would be okay?”
She spoke so fast I could barely keep up with her conversation, what with my trying to process that she was here - both in Manhattan and in my apartment - and why she would be here. Opening wine sounded like the best idea so far and so I busied myself, choosing a nice bottle of red and locating two glasses. Amelia hopped on a stool at the kitchen island like she had lived her for years and bemused I joined her sitting on an adjacent stool.
I passed her a glass and ran a hand through my hair.