Dear Greek Billionaire

by Marian Tee

  “Don’t c-change the subject.” A rebuff, but breathlessly voiced. Stavros usually found other women’s protests artificial and coy, but with this woman of his, it was different. For some reason, when it was Willow, her stubborn resistance just made her more desirable in his eyes.

  As Stavros continued nuzzling her neck, driving her mad with pent-up desires, Willow tried to distract herself, asking, “A-aren’t you supposed to be at a meeting?”Shiiiit. She couldn’t stop stammering. She hated it when she did but she almost always ended up doing so with this man, and it was all because he excited her to death.

  This time, the nuzzling stopped. “I cut it short.” Stavros’ voice was just the slightest bit disgruntled.

  Her eyes widened. That wasn’t like him at all. “Why?”

  Lowering her to his desk, he said sardonically, “You really have to ask?” Even as his eyes bored through her, his hands didn’t stop moving, his fingers nimbly working its way down the buttons of her silk blouse.

  “After the barrage of messages you’ve sent me?”

  When are you coming back to the office, boss? Your secretary’s waiting for you and she needs your help…taking her clothes off.

  Mr. Manolis, I’d just like to remind you of your appointment tonight. With me. In bed. Preferably naked.

  Remembering the messages she had sent made her blush, but even so, pleasure spread through Willow at the way she so obviously affected him. She knew it was bad of her to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. Even now, she still felt insecure and uncertain, a large part of her finding it impossible to believe that Stavros could perhaps want her as much as she wanted—

  “Willow.” A low growl had her eyes flying up to him, and she flushed at the scowling look he slanted towards her. Shiiiit. He knew. Why was it so easy for Stavros to know every time she was struggling with doubts?

  “I want you. Only you.”

  Even as her body practically melted at the words, Willow also couldn’t help wincing at the way Stavros had bitten them out. Shiiiiit. He was mad again.

  “Sometimes, I just feel like we’re playing a game of make believe—”

  He bent down, biting a silk-covered nipple. As she gasped, Stavros lifted his head, asking in a hard voice, “Does that feel make believe to you?”

  He was still mad. And shit, but somehow it just made him sexier, just made her want to run her hands over his body and feel that all his hardness was…hers.

  “I’m sorry.” She thought to kiss and make up, but Stavros was unsmiling. “And you think that’s enough?”

  Uh-oh. He was in that kind of mood. She should be alarmed, but foolish her, it only made her more hot and bothered, and Willow choked out, “No, sir.”

  Desire glittered in his eyes at her response, and she loved that he got a kick out of her obedience as much as she was enslaved by the way he so effortlessly wielded his authority.

  “I’m glad you understand.” His gaze slowly drifted down, and that was when she realized he already had her blouse completely open. Her first instinct was to cover herself—

  “No.”

  Shiiiiiiit. There it was again, and at the commanding note in his voice, her arms fell back against her sides.

  “You really have to be punished.” The words, combined with the roughness of his voice, had her swallowing. God, she wanted him so much more now. So, so, so much more.

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” He was pushing her blouse down her arms now. “You are never to cover yourself when we’re alone.” The blouse was discarded on the floor, leaving Willow aching and exposed in her bra and skirt.

  “Do you understand?” Stavros unclipped the front-clasped bra, and her breasts spilled free.

  “Y-yes, sir.” Oh God, the way he was staring at her breasts. He made her feel like a prey – but the kind that wanted to be devoured.

  “Good. And now…”

  She bit her lip hard, not wanting to make a sound as his hands slowly cupped her breasts.

  “I’m going to punish you.”

  Sensual need licked her body all over at the growled promise, a powerful shudder racking her as Stavros’ fingers moved to the puckered tips of her breasts. And then he pinched them both.

  Willow’s head fell back as her lips parted in a silent scream.

  “Good girl.” Words purred to her ear.

  Another silent scream, but she didn’t know how long she could keep her pleasure to herself.

  “Because that’s how your punishment will be. I’m going to make you come right here, right now, and you’re not to make any fucking noise.” He bit her ear, making Willow arch against him with another silent gasp. “Understand?”

  “Y-yes.”

  And then the punishment began. His mouth crushing hers, his tongue swooping inside, and all she could do was tremble and close her eyes at the conquering kiss. His mouth moved down, his teeth nipping the tender skin of her neck just before he started sucking. Her nails dug deep into her palms as she arched her neck. She wanted more, but she wasn’t sure if she could handle more without screaming.

  Down his mouth went again, replacing his fingers on her nipples. As he started to suckle her breasts, her eyes flew wide open, her lips parting in a quiet sob of agonizing pleasure. She didn’t think she could take much more of this. Not without dying.

  An eternity was spent with him worshipping her breasts. He was there so long she ended up gripping his head and tried to have him suck her nipples deeper into his mouth.

  She was resting on her elbows, panting without noise, his fully-clothed body between her bare legs, when he lifted his head. For a moment, their gazes met.

  “Not a sound.” A hard reminder.

  She had barely nodded when his hand found its way under her skirt and his skillful fingers came into contact with the soaking wet flesh between her thighs.

  Shiiiiiiiiiiit. She imagined screaming the word out loud as Stavros started to stroke her through her panties. Dimly, she felt him gently pushing her back until she was lying completely against the desk, and she didn’t demur when she felt him propping her legs up on the table.

  Briefly, his fingers left her aching flesh as he worked on getting both her skirt and panties out of the way. Her dazed gaze followed his hand as he threw them away, leaving her naked.

  Her attention jerked back to Stavros when she felt him moving her legs, pushing them further open even while keeping them bent at the knee.

  Willow’s breath became strangled when she saw his head slowly disappear between her thighs. Oh God, oh God—

  Aaaaaaaah. Her entire body shook at the first lick of his tongue. Oh God, oh God, how could she ever survive this? Her thighs started to shake as well, started to close together—

  “Hold your legs open,” Stavros snapped, “and keep them open for me. Understand?”

  “Y-yes.” She clasped her legs by the knees.

  His head went back down.

  This time, it wasn’t just his tongue. It was everything. His thumb on her clit and another finger joining his tongue as it thrust in and out of her pussy.

  He destroyed her with every stroke, every thrust…every lick. She so badly wanted to let go, but she strove to do what he ordered, to keep herself open even though she was dying, dying, dying—

  “Do you want to come now?”

  “Yes.” She sobbed the word out, and she almost let out another sob when she saw an exquisitely sensual smile slowly form on Stavros’ lips.

  “Then…come for me.” Three fingers thrust all at once into her hot, wet core, and excruciating pleasure rippled through her at Stavros’ intense penetration.

  She came.

  She came and came – so, so much to the point that she felt like she had blacked out for a second, with the way his fingers didn’t stop diving in and out of her pussy, filling her, stretching her, owning her.

  When she resurfaced, she found herself fully dressed and curled in Stavros’ lap. They were in the corner couch of his office, and
he was playing with a lock of her hair, as if savoring its silky texture.

  “Good morning.” Wicked amusement underlined his tone as their gazes met.

  She flushed at the knowing look in his eyes. “Shut up.”

  He raised a brow.

  She said defiantly, “Shut up, sir.”

  Stavros laughed. “Incorrigible witch.”

  After helping her get up, Stavros informed Ashley they would be leaving for the day. His commanding gaze was on hers as he spoke, and she swallowed back all her instinctive protests. When he was in this mood, it was just better to humor him.

  Putting the phone down, Stavros lifted his brow at her. No objections?

  “My things are still on my desk,” she said by way of answering and when Stavros’ tense form relaxed visibly, she knew she had made the right choice.

  “I’ll wait for you then.”

  She hurried back to her desk at his words. As she gathered her things, she could feel Ashley smirking at her. “Shut up.” Snapping her briefcase shut, she hesitated then walked to the reception counter.

  Ashley sobered up at the look on Willow’s face. “What is it?”

  “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” She hated, absolutely hated that she had succumbed to asking such a thing, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I don’t know, Wil…but I can tell you honestly that you’re different. A lot of women try to visit him here, but…” Ashley’s smile was droll. “You know how he’s trained me, and no one’s got the ‘okay’.”

  “I was applying as his secretary,” she grumbled. “Of course I’ll get the—” Willow paused at the look on Ashley’s face. She was incredulous. “You mean other women have also tried applying as his secretary?”

  “Heiresses, models, actresses, you name it.” Ashley’s voice was dry. “And they wanted any job, even mine, just to be close to Mr. Manolis.”

  “But none,” Willow said slowly, “made it.”

  “None except you.”

  When Willow came back to the office, her Montblanc briefcase in hand, Stavros set aside the contract he had been perusing. “Ready?”

  No question why she took so long, Willow thought with a gulp. Most men hated waiting, but Stavros…

  Stavros threw her an odd look as he came to his feet. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Reaching her side, he took her hand and they walked to his private elevator together.

  Shiiiit. She really had to be more careful with this man. He was just too damn sharp most of the time.

  As the doors closed in front of them, Stavros’ head turned towards her. One brow went up. Well?

  “I was just wondering why we needed to leave early,” she answered blithely.

  “Another meeting for the project.”

  “Why do you like calling it just ‘the project’?”

  He shrugged.

  She smirked. “You’re embarrassed because it’s going to make you seem like a soft touch, aren’t you?”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Stavros’ voice was stiff, but the stain on his cheekbones belied his words.

  Willow’s laughter rang out in the elevator. The sound infuriated and aroused him at the same time so he decided to satisfy both by curling an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

  Gasping as she landed against him, Willow demanded laughingly, “What the—”

  He shut her up with a kiss, hard and long enough to leave her gasping for more when he raised his head.

  He lifted a brow. Are you still going to be a tease?

  “No more teasing,” she promised. “Just kiss…”

  His mouth went back to hers the next second.

  Stavros only released her mouth when the elevator reached the basement, but he didn’t let go of her hand as they walked to his limousine.

  The meeting went smoothly enough over lunch, with Stavros forcing Willow to do another presentation, this time for a French investor. By the end of it, she had only committed three faux pas.

  “A commendable improvement after your performance with Adler Brandt,” Stavros murmured as they went back to his limousine.

  “Shaddap.”

  Stavros lifted a brow.

  “Shaddap, sir.”

  Shaking his head in amused exasperation, he surprised her by lifting her off her seat and dumping her on his lap. “Incorrigible as ever.” His dark gaze holding her blue-green eyes captive, Stavros slowly lifted the lock of hair he held to his mouth.

  Willow’s heart hammered at the tender gesture, and she felt like she was even more dazed than before. Cold, unemotional, reserved – words that were always used to describe the Greek billionaire holding her in his arms, but right now they were far from the truth, with the way he was looking at her.

  Releasing her hair, he said softly, “Congratulations, Ms. Somerset. Job well done.”

  Shiiiiit. Why did it feel so special to hear those words from him? To cover her embarrassment, she muttered under breath, “I deserve a reward.”

  Stavros almost smiled. Only Willow could say that and not sound mercenary. “What do you want?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Anything?”

  “Anything within reason,” he corrected.

  “Spoilsport.”

  The brow went back up. Are you going to tell me what you want or are you going to continue wasting our time?

  Shiiiit. Why did that raised-eyebrow look of his always make her want to ravish him?

  Looking at him, more questions bubbled up inside her, making Willow feel helpless and confused. How much does he like me? How much do I like him? Where was this all going?

  The answers eluded her, but one thing she was sure of was that she did feel something for Stavros. Her boss. Her savior. Her lover. She had felt it the first time they met, and whatever it was, the feeling had grown the more time they spent each other.

  Whatever it was, the feeling convinced her that what she was about to say was the right thing to do. “Mr. Manolis?”

  He raised a brow.

  She went straight for the kill. “My reward is that you’re going to take my virginity.” At his stunned look, she added sweetly, “Whether you like it or not.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dear Greek Billionaire,

  Gosh, thanks for remembering my first name, sir, but sorry, I don’t think it’s a privilege. I think it’s just plain common courtesy, considering I’ve been working for you for months.

  ~ The Art of Turning Down a Greek Billionaire

  This was ridiculous. Stavros ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was twenty-seven years old, a fucking adult, and one with enough power, strength, and skills to knock down most people in a fight. Aside from that, he also happened to be the CEO of one of the world’s most successful empires and yet here he was, tense as hell just because a slip of a girl wanted to have sex with him.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his car and went to the elevator. Control, Manolis. Moments later, and the doors were sliding open to his office. The first thing he saw?

  His witch of a secretary, looking more like a pin-up model with her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, blue-green eyes framed by a sexy pair of glasses, hourglass body covered in a black figure-hugging dress, and long legs made longer and shapelier by her fuck-me-wedges.

  It had been a week since Willow had declared war on him, and every day the struggle not to fuck her just felt more and more impossible to overcome.

  “Good morning, Mr. Manolis.” Polite words, but with her throaty bedroom voice, they sounded fucking hot.

  His cock, already erect at just the sight of her, now throbbed painfully at the sound of her voice.

  He struggled to keep his voice curt as he said, “Ms. Somerset.” When their gazes clashed, there was a knowing look in her eyes, and it matched the sweetly taunting smile playing on her lips.

  Stavros almost winced. Damn. The little witch knew he wanted her, and she wasn’t even bothering to pretend ignorance about it.

 
“Your coffee, sir.” She started towards him, hips sashaying in the way he loved.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Now he couldn’t take his eyes off her gently swaying hips. Even so, he strove to stay in command. “Just place it on the table.”

  “Oh, no, sir,” Willow protested ever so softly. “I really don’t mind.”

  His teeth clenched. Goddammit, why did he feel like the tables had turned and he, a Greek billionaire, had suddenly become the hunted and Willow, his not-so-experienced but virginal secretary, the hunter?

  “It’s just the way you like it, Mr. Manolis.” She was referring to the coffee, but she also made sure to smooth one hand down the curve of her hip, knowing that the double entendre wouldn’t escape Stavros.

  And judging by the way his nostrils flared, it didn’t. “Dammit, Willow.”

  She gave him her best butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile. “Yes, sir?”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stavros knew the little witch was toying with him. The knowledge should have enraged him, but instead, it only made him want to give Willow his damn body as her personal plaything.

  What the fuck was wrong with him, allowing himself to be seduced, stalked, and pussy-whipped by a 24-year-old innocent?

  “Your coffee, sir.” Willow had finally reached him.

  The scent of her was intoxicating, and her proximity even more so. Before he knew it, he was taking a step back—

  Willow’s eyes widened in shock just before she started to laugh, asking incredulously, “Are you actually afraid of me?” And just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming, she took another tiny step forward.

  His entire body tense with the effort it took to control his wild, stormy need for her, Stavros backed up another step.

  Willow half-gasped, half-laughed. “Oh my God, you are!”

  “The fuck I am,” he muttered even as he felt color marking his cheekbones.

  “I can’t believe this. I…” She placed the coffee on the table, murmuring, “I better put this down before I spill it.”

  “Just leave it,” he told her swiftly, “and—”

  Willow straightened. “Now,” she murmured with feigned thoughtfulness, “where were we?”