Curves for the Billionaire

by Alexis Moore

  They both waved at the guest through the rear window as the vehicle moved slowly away.

  ***

  Chapter Four

  “Happy?” Zachary asked, his eyes probing hers, as the driver moved onto the main road and quickly accelerated.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Expecting him to kiss her, she waited breathlessly. Instead, he kissed her cheek, put his arm around her and leaned back against the seat of the limousine. Samantha glanced at him in surprise. In repose he looked so much younger and less in control. And like Fiona, he had faint dark circles around his eyes. Samantha felt guiltily conscious of the fact that he had worked extra hard to clear his diary of obligations—rescheduling as many appointments as he could for earlier dates and postponing others until after his return.

  Within moments he was asleep. Bemused she closed her eyes and let the sound of his deep breathing loll her to sleep, too.

  She awakened as the limousine pulled into Heathrow Terminal 5.

  Zachary had arranged for her luggage to be collected earlier in the day and over the next hours Samantha was treated to a preview of what her new life would be, even if only for two or three years. She felt slightly guilty as they sailed through British Airways Fast Track Security and tried to avoid making eye contact with any of the economy passengers waiting in line.

  Still full from the sumptuous meal they’d enjoyed at their reception, she and Zachary opted for Afternoon Tea in the Concorde Room.

  And just when she’d thought that things couldn’t get any more decadent, Samantha discovered that Zachary had arranged for the airline’s Turndown Service for both of them. They were given soft cotton sleepwear and literally tucked into fully flat beds with Egyptian cotton duvets and comfortable pillows. The only thing that would have made the experience more perfect, Samantha thought, would have been sharing the bed with Zachary, her head snuggled against his broad shoulder.

  They declined the offer of breakfast in bed for the following morning, opting instead for an extra lie-in. Just before arriving at Dubai International, Samantha grabbed her bag of toiletries and went to freshen up in the bathroom. When she returned Zachary’s seat was empty, but he came back a minute later, the bag of luxury products the airline had provided clutched in his right hand.

  They landed ten minutes before the plane’s scheduled arrival time of 07:35 local time. Once again they were treated with the same flawless service and Samantha began to understand why celebrities became ever more demanding—with people everywhere falling over themselves to ensure your comfort, it would be so easy to come to expect it as your God-given right. Zachary seemed unfazed by it all, but she was pleased to see that he thanked service givers and tipped discreetly but heavily when appropriate.

  ***

  The Royal Suite was a kaleidoscope of bright colours. As Zachary playfully swung her up in his arms and carried her over the threshold, Samantha was grateful that she had heeded Fiona’s advice and packed mostly white garments. It would have been futile trying to compete with the splendour of the room.

  “I hope you’re fully rested.” Zachary lowered her feet to the floor, then took her hand and led her through to the lounge as their luggage was carried soundlessly to the upper level.

  “I don’t feel jet-lagged at all,” she replied, surprised. In fact she felt completely wide awake and ready to take in the delights of the city after a lightning shower.

  “Good.” Zachary turned her towards him and smiled down at her. “Let’s have something to eat before we go to bed.”

  Had he misheard her?

  “But I’m not tired,” she protested.

  “Neither am I.”

  “So why…?”

  Surely he didn’t mean to make love in broad daylight?

  He raised an eyebrow and nodded as if in answer to her unspoken question. Samantha’s heart leapt in her chest. She had thought they wouldn’t go to bed until evening and make love in the darkness—not with bright sunshine flitting through the windows. She released her breath in a startled gasp, and the rise and fall of her breasts brought Zachary’s eyes to the necklace she’d kept on after changing out of her wedding gown.

  “I didn’t know you still had this.” He fingered the gemstone, looking pleased that she’d managed to keep it safe for almost ten years.

  “I don’t wear it often.” The simple words concealed more than they revealed—she didn’t wear it often because she was terrified of losing it. Zachary had given her dozens of gifts over the years, most so expensive she’d had to have them insured, but the necklace was far the most precious. “It was my ‘something old’.”

  “Your eyes are a little darker.” Zachary raised her left hand and kissed the diamond encrusted platinum band he’d placed on it earlier. Then as casually as if he was reaching for some spare change, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an engagement ring which was a perfect complement to her wedding band with a flawless deep golden brown topaz nestled in the diamond-studded petals of a rose. “I think this is a closer match.”

  “Zac, this is too much!” she protested as he slid it in place, but couldn’t help herself as she held her hand up to catch the light. He must have them both specially made—brown topaz as the centre stone for an engagement ring was unusual and so was the rose setting. “It’s absolutely gorgeous!”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  Slipping her arms around his neck, she raised herself on tiptoes and kissed him softly. “Thanks for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” He bent his head and returned the caress. “Let’s eat. I ordered English and Continental for our first morning here, but tomorrow we can be a little more adventurous.”

  Samantha hadn’t heard a whisper of sound, but the dishes must have been laid out mere minutes before they entered the dining room. The coffee and tea were piping hot, the croissants and assorted bread rolls freshly baked. The eggs, sausages and bacon looked so inviting, Samantha’s stomach rumbled in anticipation.

  “Good thing, you decided to feed me or I might have taken a bite out of you,” she told Zachary. They had been friends for too long for her to play a delicate ‘bread and water only’ miss. He’d always said that he like the fact that she enjoyed food and had a healthy appetite.

  “I should have starved you then.”

  “What?”

  Did I miss something?

  “You said that you might have taken a bite out of me,” he repeated. “I think I would have rather enjoyed that.”

  “Perhaps I will…even with a full stomach,” she promised.

  “Please do,” he answered politely, but looked as though he wanted to sweep all the dishes to the floor and take her right there on the table.

  Are you crazy, Sam? she asked herself. Why are you making promises you can’t keep?

  Bending her head, she focused on slicing off a bite-sized piece of the succulent sausage on her plate.

  “This is really good,” she murmured, trying to change the subject.

  “Excellent,” he agreed, his enigmatic smile letting her know that he wasn’t fooled and neither would he forget her promise.

  Suddenly, from being famished, Samantha could only manage a triangle of whole-wheat toast, the rest of the sausage, a rasher of bacon and half of a poached egg.

  Zachary ate heartily, seeming unperturbed by what was to come next.

  ***

  The canopied four-poster bed dominated the master bedroom and Samantha was grateful that she had eaten as little as she had when her stomach begun a nervous fluttering at the sight of it.

  If Zachary’s arm wasn’t around me, she thought almost hysterically, I would have slid to the floor like a heroine in a Victorian novel.

  “I can’t wait to have you under me on that,” Zachary growled in her ear, moving to undo the zip of her dress.

  He pushed the edges off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground as he spun her around to face him. The delicate lace edging added a touch of gla
mour and elegance to the white half-cup bra and high-leg panties, but the sheer fabric left little to the imagination.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Cupping her jaw, Zachary crushed her lips beneath his, all his previous playfulness disappearing as he pressed her semi-nude body against the hard planes of his. Samantha wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, kissing him back and allowing him to align their bodies so that his erection was pressed against where she needed it most—right on the part of her that throbbed and ached in the most deliciously distracting way.

  Grasping her bottom, he lifted her and marched to the bed. She marvelled at his strength even as she prayed he wasn’t in as much as a hurry as he appeared.

  “I’ve fantasized about your breasts for nine years,” he admitted with a groan, his fingers finding her pearl-hard nipples through the lace of her bra. “No other woman’s has ever come close.”

  With his words, Samantha lost the last of her nervousness. The years fell away until she felt the same thrilling anticipation she’d felt on her eighteen birthday.

  “No more waiting.” He unhooked the front clasp of her bra and cupped her breasts as they spilled free. They looked milky white and plump against the tanned skin of his long, elegant fingers. “They’re like strawberries and cream. I can’t wait to see them wrapped around me as you give me head.”

  “What?” Samantha’s eyes almost popped out of her head. She’d never thought that he would be one of those men who talked dirty in the bedroom.

  “This is going to be a long day and night,” he promised, his eyes alight as he stood up to pull his dark blue polo shirt and black dress trousers off in quick economical movements. She could clearly see the imprint of his erection through the black silk of his boxers. She had touched it once before and knew that he was well endowed. That night all she had wanted was for him to lay her across the seat and take her. Now she felt the same excitement, the same desire, but she was slightly more apprehensive. He would have been pleasantly surprised to find her a virgin on that night; he would be shocked now. Swallowing convulsively, she sat up and discarded her bra, glancing away quickly as he slid the boxers downwards and his erection reared upwards to threaten the ceiling.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly become shy,” he teased, joining her on the bed.

  Tell him, tell him, an inner voice screamed but the moment was lost as his lips once again covered hers urgently. Maybe he would sense it, she hoped.

  As he kissed her he ran his right hand up the side of her body, over her thigh to the full cheek of her bottom.

  “Perfect for spanking,” he groaned and squeezed the firm flesh between his fingers.

  “You’re not spanking me!”

  “I won’t,” he promised with a straight face, “if you behave.”

  Samantha didn’t know if he was serious or joking. The idea of him spanking her was preposterous. Neither of her parents had ever laid a hand on her. And yet there was something delightfully naughty about him baring her bottom and smacking it if she misbehaved.

  His lips trailed a wet path along her throat to her breasts and her nipples peaked in anticipation.

  Instead he paused, looked up at her and whispered, “Offer it to me like you did on your birthday, sweetheart.”

  Something in the request delighted her. He could have done it himself, but she suspected that it was part of the fantasy he’d mentioned moments ago. In her naïveté and impatience that night she’d offered him her breast and he’d temporarily lost control.

  So, in a similar fashion to that night, she cupped her breast and brought her nipple to his lips.

  He placed his hand under hers, lifted the heavy orb higher and circled her nipple with his tongue several times, looking up at her as he did so. Then with a deep sigh, his lips closed around it and tugged firmly. The sensation was almost unbearably intense. Samantha moaned as she threaded her fingers through his silky dark hair and held him close to her.

  Freeing her other hand from under his, she ran it over the taut length of his body. His skin was soft and smooth, but the underlying muscle gave it a different texture to hers. She touched the light sprinkling of hair on his ridged stomach and his body jerked in reaction. With only a brief hesitation, she closed her hand around the head of his erection and stroked downwards.

  Zachary gave a low growl of satisfaction and adjusted his position, bringing himself within easier reach.

  “Yes, touch me, sweetheart” he encouraged, surging his hips back and forth to maximize the stroke of her hand.

  It was tautly erect, a broad satin-skinned column that was a little broader at the head. She felt his hand sweep up her inner thigh and his fingers tangle in her wet curls. He growled with satisfaction as he slipped a finger inside her slick wetness.

  “God…you feel good. So wet and so tight.” He kissed her as he eased her hand off him. “I promise that the next time will be slower but I have waited so long for this…I need this…I need you,” he groaned as he slid his body on top of hers.

  His eyes held hers as he nudged her thighs apart and wedged himself between them. Samantha felt his hardness press against her entrance, felt his muscles bunch, his body tense for a deep penetrative jab.

  Perhaps if he hadn’t been looking so deeply into her eyes, looking for her reaction as he joined their bodies, she would have kept silent but she couldn’t have hidden her response from him.

  “Zac I haven’t….” Her mouth felt suddenly dry and she couldn’t get the words out. She swallowed and tried again—she was a doctor for heaven’s sake! “I haven’t had sex before.”

  “What?” His body stilled, his eyes opening in surprise as her words registered. His chest heaved as he took two deep shuddering breaths and rolled off her. He lay on his back for a moment, taking several more deep breaths before demanding, “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “I meant to when we entered the room but you kissed me and I lost my train of thought,” she admitted.

  “God, I’m so glad you told me in time.”

  She smiled seductively across at him. “Is it a problem?”

  “Not a problem. I just need to slow the pace a little.”

  “Oh” Samantha couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She almost wished now that she hadn’t said anything—she had been as eager as he.

  “I want you totally ready for me. First, I need to kiss every inch of your beautiful body,” he said, kissing her forehead and then both eyes. “And get you so hot, you’ll be begging me to make love.”

  He kissed her deeply before she could respond to his bold statement.

  The arrogance of the man!

  She arched her neck under his caressing lips as he lingered there, nibbling the flesh and running his tongue over it in teasing circles. Then he moved lower to cup her breasts, pushing them close together and leisurely admiring the contrast of her deep pink nipples and creamy flesh.

  “Perhaps raspberries and cream,” he corrected and took one between his teeth.

  She winced and turned her head away.

  “No, sweetheart.” He hovered over her right nipple, his breath warm against it as he waited for her to open one eye and then the next. “I want you to watch me pleasure you. I want to see what turns you on…how much pleasure…and how much pain you can take. ”

  “Pain?” she questioned.

  “It’s the sweetest part of pleasure. Just let yourself feel.”

  He took the nipple into his mouth and used the edges of his teeth on it again.

  “Ah. Ah. Aah!”

  Each nip send a thrill of sensation to the sensitive bud at her centre and instinctively she raised her hips off the bed and rubbed herself against him to ease the throbbing ache.

  “Now feel the contrast.” He teased her left nipple gently with his tongue. It was pleasant but didn’t create the same urgency, the same intense sensation, that his teeth had.

  “So, pleasure or pain?”

  “Pain,” she wh
ispered softly, embarrassed to say the word out loud.

  “I didn’t hear you.” He gently circled the left nipple again and then nipped it sharply. “Pleasure or pain, my sweet?”

  “Pain,” she conceded as he continued to arouse it with his teeth.

  “I’m not talking BDSM here, so you don’t have to be afraid I want you to be my sex slave.”

  “As if!” she retorted indignantly.

  “Don’t tempt me,” he warned, his face suddenly taking on austere lines that made it seem unfamiliar. Samantha shivered in reaction. Fiona had always warned her that he had to have a ruthless side to have succeeded in business the way he had, but she’d never seen it. How much of his real self did he keep hidden from her?

  He shook his head as if to clear it and moved up to smile down at her. “I don’t want that from you. I just want you to be honest with me. To tell me when the pain, or the pleasure, is too much.”

  “Can someone feel too much pleasure?” she asked disbelievingly.

  “Yes they can..” He kissed her and she felt a frisson of awareness. He seemed to be talking from experience. “There’s a thin line between the two and it’s more easy than you know to blur them. But there will be none of that between us.”

  He sat up and eased the drenched thong off her hips, brought it to his nostrils and inhaled its fragrance deeply before he tossed it over his shoulder.

  “So natural and so beautiful.”

  Samantha released the breath she had been unconsciously holding. She’d debated waxing and buying some feminine sprays for the first time in her life, but had decided against them at the last minute—she knew that thorough cleansing was the most effective way of staying sweet smelling and she had always been meticulous about personal hygiene. She had made use of her conveniently packed sterile wipes in the airplane’s facilities before disembarking, and Zachary, she’d decided, was the kind of man who would shave a woman if he needed to.