Billionaire's Wondrous Flight to Paradise (A BDSM Erotica Story)
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BILLIONAIRE'S WONDROUS FLIGHT TO PARADISE
By
Jenevieve DeBeers
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PUBLISHED BY:
Smokin’ Hot Press
Copyright 2012 by Jenevieve DeBeers
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and locations within either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and locations within either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * * * *
Hilary Ashworth is one of the richest women in the world, twenty-seven, and beautiful. In a word, she has everything anyone could want. What she wants is to leave her high-stress Wall Street job for a month long Hawaiian retreat, but then she took on passengers onto her private jet — a notorious rap mogul and his "Rude Crew." The rapper just needed a ride to LA, but what they all got was a wild, wicked game of Super Heroine in Peril role-playing. What happens when the sexy billionairess puts on a skimpy Wondrous Woman costume and challenges the rappers? Did she really think she could handle so many alpha males at once?
* * * * *
Billionaire's Wondrous Flight to Paradise
"Put that box in the bedroom," Hilary Ashworth said. She caught the eyes of the worker behind him, "Put yours over by the couch."
She looked around her private jet. It was a big one, just completed. This would be her first flight in it. She was kind of excited, despite her cool demeanor at the moment. Gone was the corporate Gulfstream. After spending the last ten years turning the five hundred million dollar fortune her parents left her into just over six billion, she deserved a little toy just for her. This wasn't a corporate plane. It was all hers.
My first flight to paradise, she thought.
She watched as man after man filed in and left boxes of the stuff she wanted to personalize and decorate her jet with while heading to her Hawaiian getaway. For the last five years the twenty-seven year old beauty spent Thanksgiving through Christmas there, only returning to New York for the New Year's celebrations.
Thankfully there wasn't a lot to bring up. She'd come straight over from her office, and a grueling five hour meeting. Hilary was eager to change out of her dark gray designer suit and sky high Casadei stiletto pumps. Her jammies were already laid out on the bed. With no staff onboard but the flight crew, she'd have complete privacy. Just thinking about it made her tingle.
Her iPhone rang. It was the song she set to identify her boyfriend, Curtis, who was waiting for her in Hawaii. He'd been filming a movie there for the past two months and Hilary was more than eager to be a couple again. She hadn't seen him since he left ten weeks earlier.
"Hey, baby," Hilary said, a big smile spreading across her face.
"Hi, Hilary," he said. He sounded distracted. "I have a few minutes between scenes and thought I'd call and see how it's going. Have you left yet?"
"We're loading the plane up now," she said. "We'll takeoff once everything is loaded up."
"Are you bringing luggage?" he said. "You have a full wardrobe here already."
Hilary laughed. "Baby, you know I have to bring the new clothes I bought for the place, but mostly they are loading up the stuff I plan to decorate the plane with. I want to decorate while in flight, but I might just sleep. The charity event last night took a lot out of me, and then I had a marathon meeting all morning that stressed me out to the max."
"I hear that. After working eighteen hours yesterday, we had to attend a little charity thing here, too," he said. "I didn't get home until…um…"
Hilary's baby blue eyes widened, hearing a very distinct sound. A slurp. The fact he stopped mid-sentence at the sound made her heart pound. Curtis was very much a man, a big, handsome man that the ladies loved way too much. He liked to look, and she didn't begrudge him that, but he swore he never touched.
"What was that?" Hilary said.
"What was what?"
"I heard a slurp. What are you doing?"
He didn't answer right away. "I didn't hear a slurp, but I am close to the Kraft table and there are people walking by eating and drinking."
"Oh. I guess," she said. Though seconds before she was sure it was a dick sucking slurp. She's heard that exact same slurp many times coming from herself while sucking Curtis' cock. She rarely noticed during the act, but Curtis being an actor liked to film their love sessions and watch afterwards. Hilary was amazed at how much noise she made that she was never aware of before Curtis and his video recording fetish. "It kind of sounded like a blowjob."
"Oh man, do you have sex on the brain as bad as I do?" he said, sounding eager. "It's all I've been thing about for the last two days. Knowing you will finally be here, in my arms, in my life, has me giddy."
She got all fluttery hot inside. She sucked on her lower lip, combing her fingers through her hair. Curtis loved her hair and was constantly burying his hands in it. Felt so good.
"Aww, baby, I know how you feel. You've been gone so long, and I was stuck here because of that stupid Rheinholt debacle," she said, feeling her insides getting mushy. "I've really, really missed you at night. I've been so stressed out."
Visions of him riding her hard and fast flashed through her mind, sucking her breath away. He was pure alpha male in bed, dominating her completely. God, how she loved to surrender to him. No power plays, no hard-nosed decisions, no fawning underlings fighting for her attention — being controlled, dominated by a strong man was such a turn on.
"Me and beautiful Hawaii have a whole lot of stress relief for you, baby," he said. His words sent a thrill up her spine. "When you arrive, I'm going to rock your world for three days straight."
Her belly tightened, pussy aching. She felt her juices start to flow and silently cursed the fact he was still hours and hours away.
"Just three days?" she said, a big wicked grin spreading.
"Well, the fourth day here will be Thanksgiving, and you have that big get-together planned," Curtis said, sounding as hungry for it as she felt. "Unless you were planning an orgy…"
Curtis loved the whole group sex thing. She agreed to it once or twice a year, but was basically a one man kind of woman. Most of the time it was a two women, one man ménage à trois. More his fantasy than hers.
"Well, an orgy might be something to be thankful for, but I was thinking of something a bit more traditional," she said, shaking her head. "With a Hawaiian flare, of course."
"Thanksgiving luau?"
"Exactly!"
He grunted, as she heard another slurp. At the same time a stranger stepped into her jet, escorted by one of her security men. Hilary was torn. What was going on with Curtis?
"What was that?" she said, hating how suspicious she was becoming.
"Huh?" he said, sounding distracted again. "Hey, did you bring the costumes?"
Hilary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He always did that to her, driving her crazy by abruptly changing the subject. She knew what he wanted. Curtis had a major super heroine fetish. He was constantly asking her to dress up as one super heroine or another, wanting to play act out him capturing her. And then doing very wicked, sexy things to her. Mostly tying her up and screwing her stupid.
"Yes. I brought five," she said. "But what…"
"The Wondrous Woman costume?"
She shook her head. He was o
bsessed with that raven-maned comic book icon. Sometimes she wondered if her resemblance to Wondrous Woman was the only reason he was interested in her. To please him she'd had a baker's dozen sexy variations of the costume tailor-made. His two favorite versions were in her carry-on luggage in the jet's bedroom.
"Yes. It's your favorite, so of course I'm bringing it," she said. "In fact, I'm bringing two — "
She was interrupted by another slurp, followed by a barely discernible moan. By a woman.
"Man, I can't wait. Hey, baby, I have to go. The director's asking for me back on set," he said, and ended the call before she could respond.
Hilary stared at the phone in her hand. She was not the jealous type, but that was bad. Curtis had never given her cause to suspect him of cheating before, but he was a man with strong sexual urges and needs. And they had been apart for a painfully long time.
Thomas cleared his throat, interrupting her reverie. Her hand tightened around the iPhone as her baby blues rose up to hold his eyes a long second.
"Ms Ashworth, this is Jamal Bryant. He wishes to speak with you," Thomas said. He was head of her airport security team, charged with guarding the jet while she was home in New York City. "He claims to know you."
Jamal Bryant looked familiar to her. He was a tall, slim African-American in a designer suit and small wire-rimmed glasses. He had a very no-nonsense businessman vibe about him.
"I feel as if I do know you, or at least I've met you, but I'm drawing a blank on your name," Hilary said, extending her hand. "I'm so sorry."
Jamal shook her hand with a firm, but not obnoxiously hard grip. His hand was warm and soft. No recent hard labor for him, if ever.
"No offense taken, Ms Ashworth. I'm sure you meet hundreds at different events and can't be expected to remember everyone's name," he said. "We've met at a number of media and charity events, though I'm mostly in the background behind my employer."
"Who is?"
"DJ Ray."
"The rapper?"
"Rap mogul, Ms Ashworth," he said. He looked so proud you'd think it was himself he was bragging about. "His label has twelve of the top twenty rap acts. In addition, he is the top selling rapper in the world."
"Yes, I know who he is…may I call you Jamal?"
"Of course."
"Thank you. Call me Hilary, please. Now, how can I help you?"
For the first time he looked nervous as he hesitated and licked his lips. Hilary quirked a brow, waiting impatiently. She really wanted to get into the air and begin her much needed destressing.
"DJ Ray's jet has been grounded due to mechanical issues," he said. "Unfortunately, he really needs to get to an event in LA, and we can't get a plane quickly enough for him to make it on time. Then we heard you were heading for Hawaii, and departing immediately."
"You realize this jet is capable of flying to Hawaii nonstop, don't you?" she said.
He deflated. "Yes."
Hilary really didn't need to play taxi to the rich and famous. She just wanted to do a little decorating and a lot of sleeping. If she agreed, then she'd feel compelled to entertain DJ Ray and his entourage.
"How many are in his party?" she said. Hilary had met him a number of times at parties in the Hamptons, and other events. He was always attended by a large entourage. What he referred to as his crew. "This is a custom jet, so has limited seating."
"Ten, counting myself," Jamal said.
Hilary hesitated again. The jet could accommodate that number easily enough. But she hadn't hired anyone to wait on guests yet. The entire crew was pilot, co-pilot, and navigator. That meant she'd be the one waiting hand and foot on her guests. Not the makings of a stress-free flight. Just thinking about it increased her stress. On top of that the landing and takeoff fees for the LA airport would be huge. It would be crass of her to ask him to pay them.
"Tell DJ Ray I'd be honored to take him to LA," she said.
Jamal brightened. Nodding enthusiastically, he started backing away. "Thank you! We really appreciate this."
She smiled graciously as he left. Then she sat in one of the large leather seats and crossed her legs.
"No rest for the wicked," she whispered.
"You just can't ever say no, can you, Ms Ashworth?" Thomas said.
"No. Not to one of my peers," she said. "Besides, I'm in the entertainment business, too, so I can't say no to a player as big as DJ Ray. The entertainment magazines and TV shows would crow about the 'insult' I delivered to him."
Thomas shook his head, chuckling low. "You want me and a couple boys to come along? There's a bunch of them."
She rolled her eyes and dismissed it with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.
"Please. I'll be fine. I'm not going to spoil yours or anyone else's Thanksgiving like that," she said. "Go. Enjoy the holidays with your family."
With her in Hawaii, Thomas and his team would be off with pay until her return New Year's Eve. And it didn't count toward vacation time.
"Thank you, Ms Ashworth. Happy Thanksgiving, and Merry Christmas, too," he said, and then looked out the open hatch with a curious look. "They're here. A long line of black Chevy Tahoes and Suburbans. You'd think the President was arriving."
Hilary smiled, glancing out the small window. "Rappers are one and all over the top. It's part of their appeal." She wagged her brows at the security man. "Maybe DJ Ray will make it rain money as we fly over Texas."
Thomas just frowned. "You joke, but DJ Ray and his Rude Crew have a reputation for being pretty wild. I believe he calls it Big Pimping or something to that effect. I think you do need some security on this flight."
"Nonsense. Go. Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, get the hell out of here," she said, and grinned at him. Thomas sighed deeply, shook his head, and left. "So sweet of him to worry about me."
Shortly after Thomas' departure, her guests began filing in. A big, black bodyguard in a black suit and dark gray shirt and tie came in first. Hilary knew him. His name was Anthony Biggs, but everyone called him Big. He was six foot six, massively built, and always seemed so angry. Big had been one of her bodyguards for six months, before he was hired away by DJ Ray five years back.
No one, ever, messed with Big.
"Hey, Big. How's life been treating you?"
"Good enough, Miss Hilary," he said. He always referred to everyone as Mr. or Miss and their first name. "Mr. Jay is generous."
Hilary could never read Big. He had a perpetual scowl behind dark sunglasses. Since she'd seen him last he'd shaved his head.
Speaking of, DJ Ray led his crew in. He was as tall as Big, though not as massively built. He also wore sunglasses and had a shaved head. He wore his usual black leather vest and leather pants. His gang tattoos were prominently displayed on his thick arms, chest, and washboard belly. A beautiful woman hung off each arm. Hilary had met them both three weeks back in the Hamptons. La Toya had the biggest, most gorgeous afro Hilary had ever seen, falling in tight curls halfway down her back. She wore a yellow midriff baring corset, black leather short-shorts, and lace up ankle boots, with lots of bling. Kendra was a hot blonde, and very much a groupie. She wore a black leather halter top, matching micro-mini skirt, and stiletto knee boots. Her only jewelry was a pair of gold chandelier earrings.
"Holy shit," a tall, muscular man cried, coming to a halt with a look of astonishment on his face. He was a good six foot four and very muscular. Like his boss, he wore an open leather vest and showed off his gang tattoos. "Anyone ever tell you how much you look like Wondrous Woman and her alter ego, Briana King?"
Hilary's eyes widened. She glanced at the open door of the plane's bedroom. The carry-on with her costumes was at the foot of the bed. It reminded her that Curtis made sure she brought her Wondrous Woman costume. It seemed to be his primary concern, too.
"Hmm," she said, and then remembered herself. "Yes, I've been told that once or twice."
The other men of DJ Ray's crew came in, flowing past him as he gawked at her. They all looked
at her like she was a tasty treat. Even La Toya. Kendra tightened her hold of DJ Ray's arm, looking more than a little threatened.
"Please forgive Sups," DJ Ray said, his voice a deep rumble. "He's obsessed with comic books, and especially Wondrous Woman."
"Sups?"
"Short for Superior Man," Sups said, showing her the comic book icon's symbol tattooed on his upper left arm. "They call me Sups, because I'm a superior man."
Hilary was speechless for a long moment.
"Ah. Good to know, Sups," she said. She smiled at him, he got more excited, and she rolled her eyes. "What is it about men and comic books?" She stood up, tugged down on her mini-skirt, and looked him up and down. "I'm not Briana King, much less her alter ego Wondrous Woman. So your capture fantasy is not going to happen on this flight, Sups."
"Wow! You role play Wondrous Woman? Do you have the costume?"
"Sups!" DJ Ray barked. "Shut up. Leave her alone."
"But…"
"Enough. Stop hounding her," the rapper said. He turned to Hilary, "Thank you for taking us to LA. I know it's a big inconvenience."
Hilary waved that away as she walked up to him. They hugged and he kissed her on the cheek. Not an air kiss, but he kissed her fully on the cheek. DJ Ray always did. The first time they met he kissed her on the corner of the mouth, but that was because she turned away at the last second when she realized he was going for her lips.
Rappers and rock stars, she thought. They all feel entitled to any woman they want.
Before meeting her current boyfriend, Hilary dated quite a few rock stars, and wannabe rock stars. None of those relationships lasted long, since she felt they didn't appreciate what she was giving them. They treated her body as their due, to use and abuse as they wished. Great sex, but they all failed to feed her emotional needs.
Hilary turned around to find Sups waiting. He wrapped her in his powerful arms, trapping her arms at her sides, and hugged her so tight she groaned. It felt so good, bleeding away some of her pent up stress. When he stroked her long hair, she unconsciously turned her face into his neck and breathed in his scent. Sups smelled really, really good.