The British Billionaire Bachelor

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Unzip my trousers and pull me out,” he ordered, and leaning slightly forward, whacked her with the spoon, once on each cheek.

  She had been feeling a little weak and warm from the food and champagne, but the smack snapped her back to life. Unbuckling his belt, she undid the single button and lowered the zipper, reaching through the opening of his boxers, gently bringing his manhood into the dim light of the car.

  “Each time you suck me you must ask permission,” he murmured, the spoon resting enticingly on her bottom.

  “Please, may I suck your cock, Sir?” she mewed.

  “You may, and you must do so slowly. When I whack you once you will speed up, twice you will slow down. Begin, please.”

  Belle’s lips felt full and wet and warm. Lowering her head, she glided her mouth around him. Magically the lipstick transformed into a slippery coating that enabled her to slither her mouth with ease, and the taste of cinnamon grew as she continued her work, the sound of Simon quietly groaning filling the air.

  She had found a slow, flowing rhythm, but a stinging smack from the spoon urged her to increase her pace, sending a new wave of wet longing between her legs. Wiggling as she continued, she brought her thighs together, squeezing tightly, loving the sensation.

  “You’re enjoying this,” he commented softly, “and you’re doing it very well my dear. You like the spoon too, I can tell,” he continued, and whacked her twice on each cheek, as if to underscore his point.

  She let out a muffled yelp, then remembering the instruction, slowed down her attentions. His cock swelled in her mouth, releasing dew drops of pre-come, and she pressed her lips together more firmly, using her tongue around the tip, eliciting a deep, happy groan.

  “Come here,” he growled, reaching under her arms. “Come here and lower yourself on to me.”

  Crawling on to his lap, she saw him slip a condom over his cock, then holding himself with one hand, guided her down with the other, impaling her sopping, open, eager crevice. She moaned happily, throwing her head back with pleasure as she sank down.

  “Ohhhh Simon,” she murmured. “It’s so incredible...”

  She could feel his hands at the top of her dress grasping the zipper, and a moment later it glided down, the skimpy threads holding the dress at her shoulders floating down her arms, exposing her nakedness.

  “Keep your chin up and arch your back,” he breathed, but he needn’t have. Lost in the moment, she was already happily thrusting her breasts towards his welcoming mouth.

  His tongue licked and his teeth lightly nipped, making her groan with pleasure, but a moment later he opened his mouth wide and engulfed her breast, sucking hungrily. A thousand pins and needles shot through her, making her cry out as the scintillating sensation hurtled through her entire being. He didn’t let up, continuing to devour her marvelous mound, and for a moment she thought she was going to climax. Unexpectedly he pulled away, but it was a momentary pause, as he traveled his mouth across to her other luscious melon.

  He repeated the extraordinary attention, and this time, as the salacious sensations surged through her cunt, she was convinced she would not be able to stop the release surging through her loins. Her pussy was pulsating against his cock, all from the ministrations he was offering.

  When his mouth withdrew, kissing across her clavicle to her neck, she collapsed her face into his shoulder, weak from the buildup, feeling exhausted and almost frail, her hot depths throbbing, aching for the explosion.

  “Belle, would you like to come? Here? In the car?”

  “Oh yes, Simon–oh please, please...” she begged. “Now–I need it now!”

  “My goodness, you are impatient.”

  “Yes, I am,” she groaned, moving her hips. “I know–I can’t help it...please, Sir, please make me come.”

  “Very well, but next time you’ll have to wait. You’ll learn...”

  “Yes, yes. I will!” she cried. “I promise...!”

  Grasping her by the waist he swiftly moved her to the floor of the car, flipping her on to her hands and knees. She gasped, almost dizzy from the speed with which he had moved her, finding herself facing the thick, soft, luxurious carpet. Clutching her by the hips he impaled her, ramming fast and hard, the thrusts shocking and thrilling her as he pummeled her to orgasm, not letting up for a moment, his pelvis slapping her hot bottom.

  “Simon–Oh God, Simon–I can feel it...” she cried.

  “Come on then, come for me,” he demanded, slapping her ass repeatedly as he fucked her. “Come now!”

  The command sent her into orbit, and she spun around the stars, hearing his groans of release as if from a far-off moon. She spun and spun, sparkling flares flying through her brain, and when it stopped, it stopped with such abruptness, she collapsed forward with no ability to catch herself.

  She felt herself being lifted, cradled like a child. She opened her eyes and saw his handsome, caring face looking tenderly down at her.

  “Oh my gosh,” she murmured. “That was...”

  “Yes, wasn’t it?” he smiled.

  She lifted her chin and kissed his neck, then closing her eyes, rested her head against his shoulder.

  “I think I’m going to sleep for a week,” she muttered.

  “Hmmm–I doubt that,” he said, his voice low and warm, “but you will sleep well tonight. We both will.”

  “I don’t want to move,” she sighed. “Just want to stay here, like this, forever.”

  Simon breathed in the scent of her, and laid his head against hers in quiet wonderment at the feelings swirling around him. As disconcerting as it was to experience such emotion, he could not deny the happiness that filled his heart. Glancing out the window, he spied the artfully lit windows of the high-end retailers slowly meander by. Faceless mannequins stared back at him, and for a moment he flashed on the hundreds of women with whom he had shared his bed. He could recall the famous because they were the famous, but Belle, when they parted company he knew he would never forget her.

  When they parted company.

  He didn’t want them to part company!

  He needed to move his body, he needed to clear his head, he needed–?

  “Time to get yourself straightened up,” he decreed, attempting to move her off his lap.

  “No! I intend to stay right here for a very long time,” she replied, snuggling against him.

  “Hmmm...well I could always help you along with the spoon!” he warned.

  “Okay, okay,” she replied quickly. “I’m moving, but I want it on the record that it’s under protest.”

  “Noted! Now off you get,” he ordered.

  Once Belle had straightened out her dress and pulled up the shoulders, he zipped it up for her. Finding her bag, she pulled out the comb and ran it through her hair, then checked her small lighted mirror for smeared makeup, patching herself up with the tissues.

  “Simon,” she began, softly, “did Parker put these things in here?”

  “Of course not,” he said, shaking his head. “He bought the bag under my instructions when you were shopping. Everything else was placed there by me. I doubt that a lipstick designed for such a purpose would be Parker’s forte. Though one never knows,” he chuckled. “Belle, the line between my personal and professional life is thick and made of concrete. Everyone who works for me knows that, and respects it. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she answered, feeling as if she’d just been ever so slightly scolded.

  “You need to remember that when you’re dealing with my staff. Courteous and considerate always, but never familiar,” he warned.

  “Yes, Sir,” she nodded, thinking it might not be as easy as he made it sound.

  Reaching forward, he pushed a button on the control panel.

  “Back to the hotel please,” he announced.

  “Yes, Mr. Sinclair.”

  Parker’s voice was crisp and clean, and staring out the window into the night, she couldn’t help but wonder how many other women had heard those v
ery words.

  It was on his twelfth birthday that Simon Sinclair had been told he was adopted, but he had already guessed. It was obvious. He was already 5’4”, taller than his diminutive mother, and because he was ‘growing like a weed’–according to his family doctor–it wouldn’t be long before he shot past his 5’8” father. He had dark unruly hair and sparkling blue eyes. His mother was a redhead, and his father, though prematurely graying, was blonde, and they both stared through hazel eyes. The information hadn’t been readily or happily given, but Simon had gently pushed, using his good-natured insistence, until finally the man and woman he called mum and dad, with much huffing and sighing admitted the truth.

  He had been brought into the family as an infant, and while his mother had doted upon him, his father was a reserved man, though not unkind or uncaring, and has attended all the important events in Simon’s life. He was just not of an affectionate nature.

  Simon bore them much gratitude and loved them dearly. They had provided a beautiful home and an outstanding education, which he had never taken for granted and used to tremendous benefit, but laying in his bed, in the luxurious suite at the Bel Air Hotel, the sweet Belle sleeping beside him, her warm soft naked body nestled against his skin, he considered why it was he could move so skillfully from woman to woman, able to keep his distance, eluding any kind of emotional attachment.

  Had he been ripped from his birth mother’s arms? Had it been an emotional wrenching away, or had she not cared at all, simply handing him off without a second look? Was it possible being separated as an infant caused him to...?

  Belle stirred, murmuring his name. He threw an arm around her, pulling her into his chest.

  You can control your own destiny! You’re gifted my boy! Seize your future and make it your own.

  Those were the words his father had said to him the day he had left the house and moved into his first flat in Kensington, and Simon took them to heart, though his many accomplishments and heights of success was still stunning to him. He had achieved every goal he’d set himself, bought every toy, and traveled to the lands that intrigued and fascinated him. Even his sexual life was unique, and because he was Simon Sinclair, one of England’s most eligible bachelors, finding willing partners to kneel before him was as easy as ordering coffee.

  But he had never considered his father’s words in his personal life.

  The faceless mannequins danced in his head...

  You need to sleep, he told himself. Perhaps you’ve just reached a point in your life where you’re open to experiencing a real relationship with a woman. It’s probably no more complicated than that.

  Closing his eyes he sank into the mattress, allowing Belle’s gentle breathing to lull him to his dreams.

  Hours later, Belle awoke to the gentle caresses of Simon’s soft palms. The same hands that had delivered the peppery spanking in the back of the limousine the night before, were now tenderly fondling her sensitive cheeks, and his lips were kissing her neck between whispered murmurings of warm, loving words. Sighing, she moved her hips to meet his member as it slithered forward into her open, hot, wanting depths, and moaned in sleepy pleasure as he adoringly rode her to an early morning climax, leaving her breathlessly serene. As she drifted off, back into her calm, sleepy state, she barely heard him move from the bed. By the time he had showered and dressed she was fast asleep.

  Walking quietly into the living room he settled on the couch, and picking up his cell touched the speed dial for Tyler Anderson. It was 8 a.m., which meant it was 4 p.m. in London, a good time to catch him.

  “Simon! My friend! How is Beverly Hills treating you?” his friend inquired, his usual enthusiasm clear in his voice.

  “Been an interesting trip,” Simon replied.

  “And how is Belle Somers? To your liking I trust?”

  Simon could hear the smile on his friend’s face, and the question, though expected, caused Simon to stand up and begin pacing.

  “Excellent. She is, well, she is...I’m not quite sure how to answer that question.”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “Tyler, she’s the reason I’m ringing,” Simon declared, moving out on to the patio and closing the door behind him. “You know I like to get straight to the point, but I don’t want to get into this if you only have a few minutes.”

  “Simon, for you I have all the time in the world. Is there a problem?”

  “Ah, I’m not sure I’d call it a problem exactly...”

  “All right old chum, spit it out.”

  Simon took a deep breath. If there was anyone he could talk to about the unexpected turn of events it was Tyler, but it was still difficult. How could he even begin to explain something he didn’t understand himself?

  “I seem to be developing, what I suppose is referred to as, deep feelings, for her. It’s quite bizarre.”

  Just saying the words out loud, sharing the experience made him feel better.

  “Well, this is a first!” Tyler exclaimed, genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Neither did I. It’s shocking and I feel a bit at odds. Not quite sure what to do,” Simon continued. “It’s only been a few days. How could this have happened so quickly?”

  “Ah, yes, it does,” Tyler chuckled, “and now you feel out of control, which for you must be quite disturbing.”

  “Exactly,” Simon admitted. “Back to my question. What do I do?”

  “Not sure you necessarily have to do anything. Just enjoy it. I assume she feels the same. I can’t imagine any woman not being totally thrilled at your attentions.”

  “She rejected me at first,” Simon said lowering his voice, hating to admit it.

  “You’re joking? Speaks well of her,” Tyler remarked.

  “What do you mean?” Simon asked. “That’s an odd thing to say.”

  “Just means she doesn’t have stars in her eyes. I mean, many women would jump in just because of your wealth.”

  “Yes, this is true,” Simon agreed thoughtfully.

  “Anyway, you have to assume your feelings are mutual and just let nature take its course.”

  “But I’m planning to return to London in a couple of weeks, possibly sooner.”

  “And you are thinking what exactly? To bring her back with you?”

  The question Tyler posed was the one that had been bouncing around Simon’s head since he had woken up. Finding her warm, luscious naked body laying next to him had been a divine slice of heaven. It was an oddity. He usually insisted his lovers leave when their fun was done. If a woman did stay over, he would speed her out the door first thing in the morning.

  “How can I possibly do that, or even ask her to do that? You know what my life is like. How crazy busy I am, and she has a life here.”

  Tyler paused. Simon was right. The man did have a very hectic lifestyle.

  “Is she the independent sort, or is she the type who would have a tough time with you gone all day?”

  Simon considered the question, and the thought occurred to him, though he didn’t know why, that he would miss Belle more than Belle would miss him. She seemed to have no issues being by herself or spending time alone.

  “She’d be fine. At least, it seems so,” Simon replied.

  “My advice, for what it’s worth, is to just carry on. When it’s time to leave you’ll instinctively know the right thing to do.”

  Something white flashed across Simon’s peripheral vision, and he turned to see Belle walking through the living room, wrapped in the hotel bathrobe. She smiled as their eyes met, sending an unexpected lightening rod of emotion through his heart.

  “I have to go in a minute,” he said quietly, “but Tyler, you had a lifestyle like mine when you met Cheryl. How did you, I mean...?”

  “I’ll tell you what old Pops told me when I asked him a similar question back then, and don’t forget Simon, Pops was the ultimate man about town, a confirmed bachelor if ever there was one.”

  “Please!” Si
mon said quickly, watching Belle as she sank into the couch to wait for him.

  “He said–Tyler my boy, every man is a playboy until he meets the right woman.”

  Simon paused, the words sinking in.

  Every man is a playboy until he meets the right woman.

  “Tell Pops I said hello,” Simon muttered, not sure how to respond to the profound statement. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Later then,” Tyler replied, and clicked off the line.

  Simon dropped the phone into his pocket and walked back into the living room, plopping down next to Belle.

  “Come here you gorgeous creature,” he smiled, pulling her into him, sliding his hands inside the thick, white robe.

  “Hmmm, Simon,” she hummed, her hands moving around his neck, kissing his face. “Why don’t you come back to bed? Let’s snuggle some more.”

  “You are a very wanton woman,” he chuckled. “I wish I could but I’m already MIA. Cecil is no doubt wondering why I haven’t checked in with him yet.”

  “Cecil–my competition,” she giggled.

  “I’m starving. Feel like having breakfast in the dining room this morning?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  “Go and get dressed. I’ll make some calls while you’re getting ready.”

  Leaning in, Belle laid her lips against his, slipping her freshly minted tongue through his teeth, dancing it upon the roof of his mouth. His cock sprang to instant attention and he groaned as her bathrobe slipped off her shoulders. He trailed the tips of his fingers down her spine, then lifting her gently, placed her on his lap, wrapping his lips around a bright pink, stiffened rosebud nipple.

  She leaned her head back, moaning with the attention, murmuring his name, but the moment was short-lived. The hotel room phone rang, shattering the spell.

  “You,” he muttered huskily, “are much too distracting...”

  The insistent ringing continued, and reluctantly he moved her off his lap, reaching across to the phone sitting on the side table at the end of the sofa.

  “Hello? Yes. I will call you back in five minutes.”