My Wicked Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 6)

by Serenity Woods

  I smile and kiss her. “It would have been fun. But Cinderella, you shall go to the ball.”

  She sighs and kisses me back. “I suppose we should start getting ready. You’ll come and have a shower with me though, right?”

  “Sure.” I hide my surprise as she rises and stretches. Samantha hated me going into the bathroom when she was in there. The act of preparing for the day was a secret she guarded closely, as if it would be shocking to see her with wet hair or no makeup. She was like the heroine from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel TV series, who got up when her husband was asleep to remove all her makeup and put her hair in curlers, then set her alarm to wake up an hour before him so she could prepare herself all over again.

  “Give me a sec.” Clio goes into the bathroom, then a couple of minutes later I hear the shower go on and she calls me in. It’s a wet room with a large shower, so there’s plenty of room, but we still stand close together under the spray. We wash each other’s hair, then soap the other down, rinse, then stand there for a while under the hot water, arms wrapped around each other.

  “Thank you for an amazing night,” she says, turning her head to kiss my chest. She lifts her gaze to me. Her eyes are a stunning baby blue, and for the first time I notice how they have little gold flecks near the irises, like the sun peeking through clouds.

  I kiss her lips, taking my time, feeling a flicker of regret but not knowing what to do with it. There’s no point in thinking further on it. We had a great one-night stand, and now it’s time to move on.

  We leave the shower, dry ourselves, and get dressed, and I smile to hear Clio singing as she puts on her makeup. I rarely see her in anything but jeans or cut-down trousers at work, but today she’s wearing a dark-blue mini dress, showing off her shapely legs. The scooped bodice has elastic threaded through it, and it looks as if it would be easy to slide it off her shoulders and expose her gorgeous breasts.

  Mustn’t think about that. Don’t want to have to hide an erection while I’m helping myself to croissants and coffee.

  We go down to breakfast and chat about the upcoming drive and the wedding while we eat. I try not to think about last night. In the past, before Samantha, I had several one-night stands, mutual sharing of bodies, with both parties barely thinking twice once we parted. But of course this is Clio, my cousin, and with whom I work, so it’s not going to be as easy to throw off thoughts of the two of us together.

  Yes, being related, working together, knowing her brother, they are the problems.

  Not the fact that she was so hot she nearly set me alight.

  Or that it was the best sex I’ve had in ten years.

  Or that in one night, she understood me better than my ex-wife did in all the time we were married.

  Or that I want her again.

  I mustn’t. I can’t. But now all I can think about is her beautiful body, and the way she was so enthusiastic in bed. How am I going to get that out of my mind when I have another road trip with her, and then all day and night at the wedding?

  Chapter Eleven

  Clio

  By eight-thirty, we’ve picked up the car and we’re on the road. We’ve gone for a four-wheel-drive SUV, even though it’s nice weather, mainly because they’re comfortable and roomy, and we settle ourselves in for a long drive. I take the first leg, heading out of Queenstown, past Arrowtown, and toward Alexandra.

  It’s a gorgeous morning, the sun sitting on top of the mountains that circle us, and the lake glitters bright gold. Ryan connects his phone via Bluetooth to the car’s sound system, and he begins playing some acoustic blues and rock that sits well with the late-spring morning.

  I feel inordinately happy. What an amazing day it was yesterday, and now I have another whole day with Ryan. Okay, so it might not be quite as spicy as it was last night, but even though I have to admit I’m disappointed about that, I concede I’m excited about having him to myself for a few more hours. And this afternoon and evening, in Dunedin, hopefully we’ll still get some time to chat at the wedding and reception. Maybe I’ll even be lucky enough to grab him for a dance.

  For now, though, it’s just the two of us, and we both sing as I head the car through the Remarkables mountain range, heading east.

  We talk about all sorts of things, too. An hour and a half passes as we talk about the music we like, bands we’ve seen. Our favorite movies, and places we’d like to travel. We talk about the towns as we pass through them, and admire the gorgeous scenery. It truly is beautiful down here, but in a different way from the Bay of Islands. The bay is stunning, especially in summer, and I adore the warmer weather, the palms and ferns, and the holiday atmosphere that pervades the place most of the time. I’ve spent a good portion of the last five years in Palmerston North at Massey University, and while it’s a nice city with all the facilities I’d ever need, it’s nowhere near as beautiful as the bay, with its bright colors—emerald greens and cerulean blues.

  In contrast, Queenstown and the Otago area are breathtaking in their bleakness. The white-topped mountains have more color at this time of the year than in the winter, but the steep slopes are painted mainly in browns and greens, with the occasional splash of blue where a river sneaks through the valleys. It’s awe-inspiring, and it makes you feel tiny in its magnificence. Right now, I can see why everyone calls it ‘Godzone’—God’s own country. I feel as if I’m heading to meet a powerful almighty—and I’m not talking about my brother.

  As I drive, I try not to think too much about what happened between me and Ryan last night and early this morning, because I know it’ll make me hot under the collar. I had a feeling he was going to be great in bed, but I didn’t quite expect us to be so… compatible. It’s difficult to expunge it from my brain, though. Images keep flickering in my mind, memories of his demanding kisses, and how much he seemed to enjoy it when I begged him to go harder. Jeez, I love sex when it’s like that. I half wish I’d chosen to do it like that again this morning, but then after saying that I did enjoy going down on him. The way he cupped the back of my head and swelled in my mouth… Mmm. That was hot. But it was a shame we only got to have sex once. Imagine having a whole weekend in bed with him! Or a whole week! We could work our way through all the positions I know, and I’m sure he’d be able to add a couple to the list. I bet he’s a dirty bastard. I’ve no doubt there’s a hundred things he’d like to do to me that he wouldn’t dare to put into words.

  “Penny for ’em,” he says out of the blue, and I realize I’ve been lost in thought for several songs.

  I decide to be honest. What’s the point in lying? “I’m thinking about sex,” I tell him.

  He laughs. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  I glance across, amused. He’s grinning at me. “You’ve given me a one-track mind,” I say. “I keep thinking about last night. And this morning. And some other things we could have done.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Like what?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You want details?”

  “Oh, I do. Very much.”

  “Okay. I keep thinking about doing you from behind.”

  “Ooh, yes. Me too. On all fours? Or lying down?”

  “I’m really not fussed,” he replies with feeling, and we both laugh.

  “Is there anything you don’t like doing in bed?” I ask him.

  He purses his lips. “Can’t think of anything. You?”

  “I’m not super keen on pain. I don’t find it a turn-on.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I mean, sometimes, pleasure and pain are a close thing, aren’t they? I quite like it… um…”

  “Rough?”

  “Mm. But obviously you already know that.”

  “Yeah.” He’s looking across at me now, and his eyes have turned sultry. I should stop. But I don’t want to. It’s fun. Despite what everyone thinks, not every guy enjoys talking about sex like this. Some men feel self-conscious or embarrassed. It’s cool to discover someone else who finds it as muc
h fun as I do.

  “So I already know you like vibrators,” he says.

  “Oh yes.”

  “How many do you own?”

  “Probably not as many as you think. Three or four different sorts. They all do a job.”

  “How often do you…?”

  I shrug. “Most nights.” My sex drive has always been fairly high. I glance over at him. “How about you?”

  His lips curve up. “Most nights.”

  My gaze lingers on him for a moment as I imagine him giving himself long slow strokes that gradually grow quicker until he spills into his hand. I tear my gaze away and return it to the road before I have an accident. “Wow. Now I’m hot.”

  “Turns you on, does it?”

  “Well, duh. I’d have to be made of ice not to be turned on by that thought.”

  He just smiles and looks out of the window, and I realize it’s likely from what he’s already told me that Samantha wasn’t the sort who’d be interested in watching her man do that. They sound completely incompatible. It must have been so difficult for him if she didn’t want him that way. No wonder he was so eager when he was in bed with me.

  My heart goes out to him. Most of my partners have been happy to experiment in bed, and although some have been more fun than others, none of them have made me feel as if enjoying sex was a bad thing.

  I think he deserves a treat.

  “Do you like anal sex?” I ask as he takes a swig from a bottle of water.

  He coughs, waits a second and swallows, then throws me an amused glare as he wipes his chin. “Jesus. Don’t do that to me.”

  “Sorry. I just wondered.”

  “You did it on purpose right when I was drinking.”

  “Might have. Well?”

  “I’m hardly going to say no. I haven’t had a huge amount of experience, I have to say.”

  “What about being tied up and stuff? BDSM?”

  “I don’t mind doing the tying up.”

  “Ooh, a dom?” I widen my eyes at him.

  He gives a short laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t mind playing.”

  I moisten my lips at the thought of him tying me up and doing unmentionable things to me. “Mm.”

  “Maybe we should change the subject.”

  “I suppose. I think my panties are soaked through.”

  “Oh jeez.”

  “Want to check?”

  He laughs. “You’re such a wicked woman.”

  “I’m serious.” I open my legs. The car is an automatic, and the road is currently straight, so I don’t have to worry about changing gear.

  I glance at him again. There’s a touch of surprise in his eyes, and a whole load of heat. He looks down at my bare thighs and places a hand on the left one nearest him. Then he slides it up to my panties.

  I murmur my approval, and so he hooks a finger under the elastic and slowly slides it down into me. I shift a little on the seat to give him access, and his fingers slide into my folds.

  He groans. “You’re wet.”

  “It’s not really surprising. I’ve been thinking about sex for the past hour or so.”

  He strokes down, then back up to circle over my clit, and I sigh and lean my head back on the rest. Ohh… that feels good.

  “I’d fuck you with my fingers until you came,” he tells me, “but I don’t want you to swerve off the road.”

  I sigh. “Good point.” I bite my bottom lip as he continues to stimulate my clit. Oh God, now I really want him.

  With his free hand, he gestures ahead, where there’s a small slip road and a rest area. “Pull over.”

  I stare at him. “Seriously?”

  “I’m deadly serious.” He removes his hand. “Pull over.”

  Thrilled, I indicate and come off the main road. It’s a viewing area, overlooking the valley, and it’s currently empty. I think we’ve only passed two other cars on the road.

  I park the car and turn off the engine, expecting him to start stroking me again. To my delight, however, he pulls the lever at the side of his chair, tips it right back, then reaches out and pulls me across the car onto his lap.

  I squeal and laugh—it’s a big car, but there’s not tons of room, and neither of us is tiny. Still, he’s insistent, and with a bit of wriggling and squirming and a whole lot of laughing, it’s not long before I’m lying on top of him.

  “You want to have sex?” I ask, breathless.

  “I do. Get your knickers off.”

  Giggling, I squirm again, but I don’t have enough room to pull them down my legs. “Shit.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he advises. “I’ll adapt.” He sinks his hands into my hair and pulls my lips down to his.

  I give in and let him kiss me soundly, moaning a little as I feel his erection pressing against my mound through his jeans. He tucks his fingers in the elastic bodice of my dress and tugs it off my shoulders, slides a hand into one bra cup, and lifts my breast up and out so it’s propped up by the cup, the nipple exposed. He fastens his mouth on it and sucks, and I gasp and clench deep down.

  Oh man, that’s amazing, and I superheat in minutes as he plays with both nipples, arousing me until I’m panting and begging him to take me. Only then does he retrieve a condom, and then we have a fun few minutes as I try to give him the space to undo his jeans and roll it on. A car goes by and I duck down with a squeal, then laugh as he moves me astride him again. He pulls the elastic of my panties aside, presses against me, and then I sink down onto him.

  “Ohhh…” I blink a few times, looking into his eyes.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, his voice husky with desire. “You’ll have to do most of the moving—I’m wedged tight in here.”

  “I think I can manage that.” I don’t have a lot of space, either—my right arm is pressed up against the door and my left against the driver’s seat, but I’m not going to let that stop me. Kissing him, I begin to rock my hips, and there’s just enough room for a few inches of movement.

  “Aaahhh…” he says, exhaling. “That feels amazing.”

  “Mmm.” I nibble his bottom lip and tease him with my tongue. “There’s not much space and we don’t have long, so I’m going to ride you quick, big boy, all right?”

  “Fine by me.” His big brown eyes are full of desire, making my heart pound.

  I thrust as best as I can, driving him in and out of me, and because we’re pressed so tightly together, with every movement of my hips I grind against him. At the same time, he cups my breasts and plays with my nipples. Desire spirals quickly inside me, and it’s not long before I feel an orgasm approaching.

  “Are you far away?” I whisper.

  “Waiting for you, baby,” he murmurs back.

  My lips curve up, and I kiss him deeply as all the muscles inside me begin to tighten. Ooh, I’m so close… He rolls my nipples in his fingers, then pinches them, and it’s enough to tip me over the edge. “Aaahhh… fuck…” I shudder and clench around him, and he slides his hands down to my hips and holds them as he thrusts up inside me. His fingers dig into my skin, and he groans as he comes, the two of us locked together in bliss as our bodies clamp and stiffen and swell around and inside one another.

  When we’re done, I collapse on top of him, exhausted, smiling as he puts his arms around me and hugs me tightly.

  “Oh God that was amazing,” I whisper.

  “No,” he corrects. “You’re amazing.”

  I decide not to contradict him. I’m more than happy for him to think that’s the case.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan

  It’s not long before we’re on the road again, me driving this time. I think the whole episode took less than ten minutes from start to finish.

  Even as I start feeling guilty, Clio leans back and sighs, and says, “Wow, that was amazing, I like it hard and fast sometimes,” so I decide I’m not going to feel too bad about it.

  I glance across at her. She’s singing again to the music, dancing
a little in her seat as she looks out of the window at the mountains rearing up into the sky. I smile. I love her carefree, open attitude to sex.

  “I’m starving,” she says suddenly. “That’s all the exercise I’ve been having.” She laughs.

  “We’ll be at Roxburgh in about ten minutes,” I tell her. “We’re making good time, despite all the distractions, so we’ll stop and grab some supplies if you like.”

  “‘Despite all the distractions,’” she repeats. “I’ve never been called a distraction before.”

  I feel a sudden twinge of wariness that she might feel I meant that in a derogatory way. “Shit, Clio, I didn’t mean—”

  “Christ, I know. I was teasing you.”

  I return her smile, although the uneasiness lingers. I don’t like feeling as if I’m using her. She’s my cousin, and even though she’s sassy and feisty, she obviously has a sensitive side.

  “Ryan,” she scolds softly, “don’t worry about it. That’s what this is, isn’t it? A distraction? There’s nothing wrong with that providing both parties are on the same page.”

  “I guess.”

  “I haven’t had so much fun in years. Maybe ever.” Her eyes sparkle. “You’re so gorgeous, and you’re amazing in bed. I’m so glad we did this!”

  I can’t help but feel pleased at her compliment. And she’s right; it is fun, and as we both know it’s only temporary, nobody’s going to get hurt, right? We’ve had our fun, and now we can go to Dunedin and enjoy ourselves at the wedding without worrying that the person we’ve just slept with is going to cause us trouble by demanding to see us again.

  Except I totally want to see her again. And have sex with her again. Of course I do. I’d be nuts not to want to after her little speech about everything she’d like to do with me in bed.

  “Penny for ’em,” she says, and when I glance at her, she’s already laughing, so I know she’s guessed what’s going through my mind. It’s more than that, though. I like her. I want to spend more time with her.

  Does it really have to end today?

  “You’re like crack,” I tell her. “You gave me the first hit free and I’m addicted now.”