Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel

by Hawthorne, Aria

  Miles enveloped her body into his chest and guided them over to the broad leather cushions of his couch, burying his own naked body over her. Miles blazed on the gas fire place and massaged Maribel’s body with warmth—her breasts, nipples, and backside chilled from their exposure to the drafty air and the cool surface of the island. Maribel savored the heat from the fire place and noted how the reflection of its flames softened Miles’ gaze upon her. He lowered his lips and kissed her mouth with affection. His tenderness disarmed her—it always disarmed her—and she exhaled with her confession.

  “I’m always so reluctant to give myself over to you.” The sound of the crackling fire comforted her with a sense of peace and security. “But then, you always find a way to make me feel like I can’t resist.”

  “Why are you so reluctant?” he asked, his chin nestled over her shoulder, his body draped over her like a blanket.

  “Because I’m afraid of what happens when you decide I’m not as special as you think I am.”

  Miles suddenly pushed himself up onto one hand and peered down at her, the reflection of the fire blazing in his eyes. “Maribel,” he said with determination, “every day we spend together, I find out you’re more special than I had ever imagined.”

  Maribel rolled her eyes. He laughed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

  Maribel could feel his warm limp cock against her thigh. She nudged him away, playful. “No, I don’t.”

  “Maribel,” he suddenly grew serious. “This isn’t just about sex for me.”

  Maribel shifted away her gaze and towards the fire. He finally had named her most intense fear, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to him. Even if it was just about sex, she thought, she didn’t mind because they had been the most intimate, passionate three days of her life. She just didn’t want it to end before she had a chance to know—somehow—if she was truly different to him than all the others.

  “Maribel,” Miles repeated with firm command, “this isn’t just about sex for me.”

  “But we barely know each other…” she whispered, then shifted her eyes out through the panoramic windows into the black abyss of the open night.

  “No, you’re wrong,” Miles countered, rotating his body deeper into her own. “I’ve been watching you every day since you were sixteen, every day since I helped you get your job interview. I fully expected you to fail, so I kept my eye on you—every day. In the beginning, I expected you to show up late to work, call in sick, or simply quit—pushed out by the demands of working retail. I was convinced that I had made a mistake in appeasing my aunt and recommending you as a new hire—convinced that somehow it would come back to bite me. So every afternoon, I came down from my office, just to prove to myself that I was right. You know what…? It was you who proved me wrong because you never missed once.”

  “I didn’t realize you had even bothered to notice me.”

  Maribel looked up at Miles. His eyes were seized on her, and he held her in his arms like she was his most prized possession.

  “And I didn’t realize how determined you were,” Miles confirmed. “That was the first thing I learned about you.”

  Maribel listened to his confession and settled into his embrace. Her mind drifted back ten years to those early days.

  “I wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to do it all—work and continue going to school every day. But I knew I didn’t have a choice, and I was so grateful to be able to make enough money to take care of my mom and pay our rent. And yes, I was terrified of being late. I actually got permission from my high school to leave early every day, just to make sure I could get to work early. I knew from my mother that I was taking over Mrs. Strauss’s position as a sales clerk. I knew she had been there for forty-five years, and that everyone knew and loved her, so I had to make a good first impression. But I didn’t know you were watching me.”

  “I was watching you—carefully. Every afternoon, when I boarded the elevator, I told myself that I was checking on you to appease my own pride, but really, I was checking on you because I had become interested in you. You were so young, but already mature beyond your years. I remember overhearing you greet the customers with such politeness—‘Is there anything I can help you with today?’” Miles mimicked Maribel’s soft voice and earnest care. They both laughed with ease. Maribel attempted to nudge Miles away, but he refused to let her go.

  “And that was the next thing I learned about you—your understated sense of composure and grace, which was intriguing to me because I was so different. I was just a self-centered, arrogant, twenty-something bachelor who didn’t care about anyone or anything other than making money and proving to the world that I was a force to be contended with, just because I had bought a bunch of downtown properties, and now I needed to be answered to.”

  “You did seem a bit arrogant,” Maribel betrayed with a giggle. “You used to stop in the middle of the Grand Lobby and finish your business calls before heading into the elevators. I remember I could hear you talking sometimes—all the way in the ceramics section.”

  Miles flopped his head into Maribel’s chest with shame; she giggled and stroked his hair. “Don’t worry. All the sales girls loved it. You were quite the topic of conversation during our lunch breaks.”

  “But you knew better, I’m sure.”

  Maribel shrugged. “I was too young and too busy to involve myself with those kinds of things.”

  “Yes, I used to always see you on Saturday night and wondered why you weren’t out with your friends or boyfriends. Instead, you were always there at the department store, folding underwear and arranging socks. You didn’t have much of a chance to be young and carefree, did you?”

  Maribel fell silent. There was no sense in feeling sorry for herself then—or now. She turned the question back onto him.

  “What were you doing at the department store on a Saturday night? Didn’t you have better things to do?”

  The sharp contour of Miles’ chin shifted in the darkness, and she felt his heavy legs and warm chest releasing his weight from her body.

  “Keenly perceptive.” Miles leaned back on his bicep. “I’ve come to learn that about you as well.” He suddenly grew pensive, gauging the emotional gravity of what he was about to say to her.

  “Those months after my aunt passed away, I often would stay at the office for hours after it got dark, usually drinking and feeling sorry for myself. My mother died when I was young. My father and I hadn’t spoken in years. My aunt was the only person in my life who knew the real me, knew I was just a lonely, insecure kid with too much money and too little sense to know what to do with it. So those days after she passed were some of the hardest days of my life. That’s why every night, I’d come down from my office and walk through the department store, just to kill time so I wouldn’t have to come here—alone. And it became a routine for me—a comfort—because I knew I would have the chance to see you, and somehow, that made everything a little more bearable.”

  “I had no idea…” Maribel’s voice faded as she watched the light from the fire place kindle emotions deep in his eyes. She didn’t realize about his own mother, or the acute pain he endured with the passing of his aunt. She suddenly felt the desire to reveal something painful of her own. “I remember how one night, you made an effort to come up to me and acknowledged my mother’s death. I was careful not to ever tell anyone about her illness because I was scared that someone would report me to the State. So when she finally passed, the grief and suffering was like a secret that I was forced to endure—alone. But I remember how you came up to me and touched me shoulder. ‘Maribel, I’m sorry to hear about your mother. She was a special woman who cared about you very much’—you said to me before striding away. I barely knew who you were, or that your aunt and my mother had been sick together, but still, those few simple words of condolences meant the world to me.”

  “I didn’t realize you remembered that.”

  “How could I ever forget it?”

  The
ir eyes locked. He suddenly kissed her—longer, deeper, more penetrating than ever before. It was more than just a kiss, and they both felt it.

  “See? How can I resist you when you kiss me like that?” Maribel laughed through the darkness. He was invading her heart and she knew there would be consequences. “What if it’s all too far, too fast?”

  “Three days of sex doesn’t make a relationship, Maribel. I won’t deny that because I know it’s true. I’ve had more casual relationships than I care to admit, and that’s how I know that this is different for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it’s usually just a game to me—a game of power and control, a way to prove that I can have anything I want—even things money can’t buy. But I’ve never pursued the sexy receptionists, or the pretty assistants, or flirtatious wives whose husbands I wanted to fuck over in a business deal. I’ve always pursued the bitchiest woman—the hardass M&A lawyers, the uptight accountants, even the catty clients who claimed to hate Chicago and my buildings because they didn’t have the prestige and glamour of a Park Avenue address—just to see if I could get them to relinquish their ice queen personas by getting them flat on their backs.”

  There was a meditative moment between them, as if they were both absorbing the gravity of his confession. Maribel sensed that Miles wanted to tell her more, so she fell silent and let the sound of the crackling fire help gather his thoughts.

  “But it’s been a shameful way to waste my time—and theirs—because it brought me nothing but misery, and taught me nothing except that I’ve been acting like a narcissistic bastard who only cares about reaffirming his own shallow ego. So I understand your concerns, and why you think this might just be all about sex for me. But nothing could be more different because you couldn’t be more different.”

  “Is that how you know Gillian?”

  Maribel was careful with her question; she heard caution in her own voice, as if she wanted to know, but was afraid to hear the answer. She felt the hesitation in Miles’ answer.

  “Gillian is one of those relationships that I regret…yes,” he finally confirmed.

  “And now?”

  “And now, she has the power and the conviction to try to destroy as many of my business deals as she can. And I’m fine with that. I’m fine with the monetary loss—even if it’s millions of dollars—if it means regaining a bit of my soul. But I’m not fine with her trying to destroy the trust between me and you.”

  Maribel felt his strong body, towing her back into him.

  “What we have between us is something that I can’t explain and don’t want to understand. I only want to protect it because it’s the only thing making me feel like I’m happy to be alive. And I can’t change the past. I can’t change all the mistakes I’ve made, but I can strive to be a better man—now and in the future. And I can strive to be a better man with someone like you by my side.”

  Maribel sensed that he was waiting, waiting for her to meet his eyes to prove how much he was willing to give to her—how much of himself he was willing to share. When she finally found the courage to look at him, he was staring at her with such intensity that it dissolved all her insecurities about his motives and intentions. They had stripped themselves physically and emotionally bare, and now there was nothing left between them except the inevitability of losing themselves completely to the other. Miles tongued her deeply, then lapped his lips over her belly, breasts, and tits. He did not seek to overpower her, like so many times before. This time was different. He rose up to his knees, permitting her to stroke his erection. Miles rarely granted her the opportunity to touch him, but now, he exhaled into her palm and released a sigh that revealed he was making himself vulnerable to her. He cradled her head and kissed Maribel again—and again—and again. Then, he stopped and peered into her eyes, and confessed from his heart what his gaze had already requested.

  I want to make love to you, Maribel…

  Maribel received his request with a hush of inner silence. He grasped her hand into his own. Will you let me make love to you? She held his stare, steady. Their fingers locked. She kissed him with longing. It was the answer he had been waiting for.

  He guided her down onto the couch and searched out her mouth, tonguing her with passion—luscious sweeps that entangled their breath. Her arms crossed over his shoulder as he mounted her and slipped his warm erection between her legs, settling it where they both wanted it most. Maribel closed her eyes and submitted herself to the heavy weight of his masculine body.

  Are you ready to accept me? he whispered.

  She had never been more ready.

  She raised her hips, inviting him in. He consented with a slow deliberate penetration.

  Yeeeeeessssssssssssssss… Maribel gasped, feeling the initial burn of friction before it bled into pleasure. Miles steadied her with tenderness… you feel amazing, he exhaled and thumbed her clit with reassurance. God, how he always made her feel so amazing, Maribel thought, and arched her back, absorbing the firmness of his cock and the stimulation of his fingers. Every part of her body ached to submit to him in every possible way. But now, it was he who seemed to be submitting himself to her. He shifted his weight with precision and allowed her to fondle his sack, closing his eyes and releasing his tension to her touch. Then, with a guarded thrust, he pushed into her again, his cock searing deeper than before. Maribel embraced his chest, accepting him with silent yearning. Miles hugged her in return—a simple confession that he wanted to stay inside her forever. She sensed the change between them, and spread her legs wider for him. He settled into her and caressed her cheek. She prepared herself for the full force of his desire. He relinquished it and plunged deeper with a determination to unite them in a way that neither one had anticipated, but could no longer repress. They both heaved. Miles lingered, controlling his urge to climax before her.

  I want us to feel it together.

  Maribel understood. She wanted it, too. She lifted her arms and relaxed, allowing him to slip out his cock and slip in his fingers, probing her deeper her with every sigh. He had come to know her so well, she exhaled, so…so…well… Miles slid his free hand under her backside and groped her cheeks, loosening her inhibitions and encouraging her to contract and release her wetness around his fingers.

  Yes, that’s it. I can feel you changing, he whispered, and they savored her tremors and quivers together while alternating between kisses of affection and kisses of passion. Maribel gave into every stroke, letting him build her up with the promise of an intimacy between them that she had never experienced with any other man. His warm cock throbbed—firm and swollen—against her thigh, but still, he was holding off until she was flush and ready to release herself to him. Suddenly, Maribel seized with a spasm of arousal. Miles pacified her with a hush, and lowered his lips to suck off her nipples, listening to the change of her every breath. Yesssssssssssssss… the force of his hot mouth over her breasts and the rhythm of his stroking fingers between her legs finally ignited a series of trembles and quakes that only he had ever produced with such fury. Primed and shuttering, Maribel reached out for Miles and drew his ear to her lips. Make love to me, I’m ready for you.

  Miles pressed his forehead against her own—acknowledging the value of her unconditional trust. He towed her up from the couch and smothered their naked bodies over its ledge. His tongue swung into her ear and washed down her neck. He steadied his chest against her back and spread open her stance with his knees. Cupping her breasts with his hands and pressing his pelvis against her backside, he braced her entire body and penetrated her from behind—a long enduring thrust that consummated the sincerity of their union with one decisive lunge. He accelerated his pace until they surged in unison, the warmth of his undulating ripples coursing inside her. Maribel collapsed into Mile’s embrace. He spooned her body and wedged themselves into the leather cushions with a sensitivity that Maribel had never known. The sound of the crackling fire consumed their thoughts and slowed the rhythm of t
heir respirations—panting, emotional heaves that acknowledged what had changed between them. Maribel had never been in love. And now, she was certain that she never wanted it to end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maribel awoke to the sound of husky voices.

  She was alone in Miles’ bed, soothed by the morning sun shining in through the sweeping bedroom windows. She heard the distant murmurs of conversation trading back and forth, and smelled the distinct aroma of breakfast. She saw her pajamas, carefully folded and lying at the foot of the bed. It was a signal for her to get dressed and come find him when she was ready.

  She wandered through the long open hallways and found Miles in the kitchen, doing battle with a skillet and a pan full of bacon. The oil and meat cracked and sizzled, which drowned out the voice coming through Miles’ speakerphone on the countertop.

  “It’s still on the table. The Olson & Anderson deal is still in play, but he can’t get the deal done because you’ve been M.I.A. since Friday.”

  Maribel sat down on a barstool at the island. Miles turned and greeted her with his eyes; they were bright and inviting. He looked fresh from a shower, his dark hair slicked back and his skin smooth from a shave. He was wearing his matching athletic shirt and pants, which accentuated his tall form and well-toned chest.

  He mouthed to her—Good morning.

  She smiled and mouthed it back. He leaned over the island for a kiss and passed over a mug with more cream and sugar than coffee. He had been paying attention, she thought as she sipped it. He knew how she liked her coffee. She glanced at the island and thought about last night. It felt like they were newlyweds, embarking on their first morning as an official couple.