Stripping the Billionaire

by Noelle Adams

  His mouth had found her clit, and he was teasing it the way he had her nipple earlier. His fingers were still in place, and they started to pump again, and Mandy clung desperately to the headboard as the erotic tension began to build inside her again.

  He was having to fight to hold her thighs apart as she got closer. And then she came hard—even harder than before—when he sucked tightly on her clit.

  As all the tension in her body dissipated in pleased languor, she collapsed back onto the bed, panting loudly and closing her eyes.

  She felt him moving over her fully again, and when she opened her eyes she was briefly startled. She was expecting to see his familiar bearded face and instead saw this handsome, flushed, and beardless stranger again.

  Only he wasn’t a stranger. His eyes were Ben’s. And his smile was Ben’s. And his kiss was Ben’s as he claimed her lips again.

  She tasted herself very faintly in his mouth, and she caressed his cheek and jaw until he finally broke the kiss.

  “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “The next time you come, it will have to be with me inside you, because I don’t think I’m capable of waiting any longer.”

  “Then don’t wait. I want you, all of you. Right now.”

  “I hope you have another condom in your purse.”

  “Yeah. There’s another one there.”

  He groaned as he climbed out of bed, grabbed the purse, and brought it to her. She pulled out another packet and unwrapped it as he took off the rest of his clothes. Then she reached out to stroke his erection, feeling deeply possessive when his breath hitched audibly as she caressed him.

  “Fuck, Cupcake,” he said at last. “I was serious about not being able to wait any longer.”

  She smiled and rolled on the condom, checking to make sure it was secure before she lay back down on the bed and let him move over her.

  Then she parted her thighs for him so he could finally ease himself inside.

  “Oh, fuck, baby,” he rasped, as he slid deeper. His eyes closed briefly and he turned his head to the side. “How do you feel so good?”

  She was making silly little sounds as she tried to process the intense sensations and deep pressure. She reached up again to stroke his face until he opened his eyes to gaze down at her again.

  She shifted slightly, and he gave a few little thrusts in response.

  She gasped in pleasure and shifted again to get him to thrust some more. It worked, and she lowered one hand to grab his tight butt so she could feel it as he moved into her.

  “I need more.” She tried to draw his head down farther so she could kiss him. “Ben, I need more.”

  “Then you have it. I’ll give you anything you need.” His sporadic little thrusts transformed to a hard, steady rhythm as he evidently pulled himself together enough.

  She stifled a cry of relief and bent her legs up on either side of his hips, meeting his thrusts with her own. And then he was kissing her again, even as he made love to her, and the combination was so powerful that she couldn’t begin to process it.

  Her body and her heart were completely out of control, trying helplessly to get Ben closer and closer, as if she might draw him inside of her completely.

  So, when her orgasm came, it surprised her, and she cried out too loudly as the waves of pleasure overtook her. He was right behind her, choking on an exclamation of completion as his body jerked tightly against hers.

  And then he was taking her fully into his arms and holding her close, his body hot and relaxed and everything she wanted. And he was murmuring things to her that she wanted to hear, about how beautiful she was, how sweet she was, how he didn’t want to ever let her go.

  Ben wasn’t anything she’d thought she wanted, but she wasn’t planning to let him go either.

  ***

  Mandy spent most of the next day painting the parlor.

  It was exhausting but not as tedious as stripping the wallpaper a couple of days earlier. Plus, she felt different now than she had before, when she’d been confused and upset about Ben.

  Even as she taped and painted, she was on a giddy high, her mind whirling with possibilities about a relationship with Ben.

  She still couldn’t believe it was happening—that she was this crazy about him, when he wasn’t even close to the kind of guy she’d always looked for in the past.

  She also couldn’t believe that he would be so into her, but she knew she wasn’t wrong about the deep feeling she saw when he looked at her. He was feeling about her the same way she was about him.

  She actually didn’t see him much all day, since he was working elsewhere in the house. She didn’t mind, though. She kept painting and dreaming happy daydreams.

  She finished in late afternoon, and they had dinner with his mother, but Mandy was so exhausted that she wasn’t as talkative as normal. She saw Ben shooting looks over in her direction a few times, and she smiled at him, just to make sure he knew she was okay.

  After they’d eaten, they took care of the dishes for Mrs. Damon, who was on her way out to play Bridge with friends.

  Mandy’s thighs and shoulders hurt so much that she winced as she straightened up from putting the last plate in the dishwasher.

  “Are you okay?” Ben asked, reaching out to pull her against him.

  She leaned against him gratefully, reveling in the feel of his strength and masculinity.

  It was still strange to see him without the beard, but he was definitely Ben.

  “I’m just a little sore,” she admitted. “I painted the whole parlor today, and it had all those nooks and the trim work, so it took a long time.”

  “I know you did. You worked too hard. I keep telling you that you don’t have to do all that manual labor.” He sounded slightly grumpy.

  His tone made her smile. “And I keep saying I don’t mind. I wanted to get it done. Tomorrow I get to start decorating!”

  She felt him smile against her hair. “I guess that’s something to look forward to.”

  “It is. I can’t wait.” She straightened up and winced again. “Hopefully, I can move tomorrow.”

  “If you can’t, it’s your own fault.”

  She giggled and stretched up to kiss his jaw. “Thanks for your sympathy.”

  “Any time. What do you want to do this evening?” He glanced over at the clock. “We can go out for dessert or something, if you feel like it. You haven’t gotten to see much of the city since you’ve been here.”

  “I know. I like the idea of going out, but I don’t think I’m up for it. I think I’ll just take a bath and go to bed early.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  There was a look in his eye that gave her a hot shiver. “Were you thinking that was an invitation?” she murmured, stroking her hand down his chest over his shirt.

  “Was it?”

  “You’re welcome to come to bed with me. But I’m telling you now you’re going to have to do most of the work.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into a kiss, and she loved the feel of the amusement and affection in his body.

  She’d never thought she’d get to see, feel, know Ben like this.

  “You’ve got it,” he said. “I’ll be responsible for all the work.”

  She was happy and tired as she got her pajamas and went to the bathroom. After a long, hot bath, she came out to find that Ben was still downstairs.

  It was just eight-thirty, but she couldn’t summon the energy to go find him. So she lay down on her bed to wait for him.

  The next thing she was aware of was the bed moving.

  She gasped, her eyes flying open in surprise.

  Ben had just climbed into bed beside her, his dark eyes soft on her face. “Sorry to wake you up.”

  “You are not sorry,” she teased, smiling at him groggily. “You were hoping I’d wake up so you could get some sex tonight.”

  He reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. “Do you really think I’m that selfish?”

  “Not selfish. Just
very interested in sex.”

  “Maybe. You’ve turned me into a real horn-dog. But you’re really tired, and I’m not so desperate I’d expect you to fuck me in your sleep.”

  “I think I’m okay.” She stretched her arms, trying to wake up, and she let out a little choked sound as a muscle in her shoulder grabbed painfully.

  “Damn it, Cupcake,” he muttered, his face changing into a familiar glower. “I told you not to work so hard.”

  She frowned back. “I can work as hard as I want.”

  “Turn over.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “I said turn over. On your stomach.”

  “Why?” Her whole body flushed hot.

  His glower deepened. “Because I’m a horn-dog, and I feel like butt sex tonight, of course. Why do you think?”

  She clearly recognized the sarcasm in his tone, and it made her snicker. “Butt sex will have to wait…a really long time. But we can have regular sex if you want.”

  “I wasn’t looking for sex. I just wanted to give you a back rub, if you’ll just turn over.”

  “Oh.” She flushed again, this time with pleasure. “Okay. That I can do”

  She rolled over and sighed as Ben began to massage her neck, shoulders, and back with strong fingers. She consciously loosened her body, breathing deeply, and after a few minutes the pain and tension in her body softened into relaxation.

  “You’re really good at that,” she said, her voice coming out very thick.

  Ben was working on the muscles at the nape of her neck, kneading them skillfully. “I do my best.” His voice sounded a little thick too.

  He worked his way down her back, pushing up her camisole so he could massage her bare skin, and soon Mandy was practically moaning as her body responded deliciously.

  She felt so much better that she could hardly process the shift. “You’re so good at this,” she gasped, as he worked over the small of her back.

  “You already said that.” His tone was so thick now it was guttural.

  “Well, it bears repeating.” She’d had her eyes closed, but now she opened them and turned her head to look up at Ben, who was kneeling on the bed above her.

  As soon as she saw his face, she realized how he was feeling. His face was tense and slightly flushed, and his eyes were very hot.

  She gasped again, differently now. “You’re turned on!”

  He frowned at her again. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is that you’re turned on! What about giving a backrub is so erotic to you? I wasn’t thinking about sex at all.”

  “I know you weren’t. But you sounded like you were having sex, and my hands were all over your gorgeous body. What the hell did you expect?”

  She really wasn’t feeling very sexy. She felt incredibly relaxed and ready to go to sleep. But she felt a surge of warm affection as she looked up at his grouchy face, so she made herself sit up so she could give him a hug.

  He returned the embrace and, although his body was tight with palpable tension, he didn’t turn the hug into sex. He said into her hair, “What was this for?”

  She pulled back and grinned up at him. “This was because I’m crazy about you.”

  His face softened. “If I get that kind of reaction, then I’ll get turned on during backrubs all the time.”

  “Sounds good to me. Now lie down. It’s my turn now.”

  “What’s your turn?” His forehead wrinkled slightly but he lay back against the pillows at the insistence of her hands. “I don’t need a backrub.”

  “I’m not giving you a backrub.” She leaned over him, kissing him on the mouth softly until he grabbed her head and deepened the kiss. She enjoyed it greatly, but she was still too tired to be very aroused.

  When she pulled away from his mouth, she kissed her way down his body, her lips and tongue skimming along his toned chest and his flat abdonmen. He was visibly aroused beneath the fabric of his boxers.

  “Cupcake? What’s going—” His rough voice broke off when she pulled down his shorts and took his erection in her hands. “Oh, fuck.”

  She loved the rasp in his voice, the sign that he was so affected by her touch. She could feel the response in the tightening of his body as she leaned down and twirled her tongue around the head of his shaft.

  “Oh, fuck, Cupcake,” he gasped, his hips bucking up slightly as she slid her lips farther down around him. His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping it harder as she started to suck.

  She didn’t think she was an expert at blow jobs, but she figured she must be doing a pretty good job if he was reacting like this. She hollowed out her cheeks rhythmically and gently squeezed the base of his erections and then his balls.

  He couldn’t lie still, and she could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust into her mouth. His whole body clamped down like a fist before he let all the tension go, all of him shaking as he released a long, low moan as he came.

  She was feeling quite proud of the sated languor she saw in his expression, felt in his body, as she straightened up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He was watching her out of half-closed eyes and giving little moans as he exhaled.

  “I guess that means it was pretty good,” she said, stretching out at his side.

  He reached over to wrap a strong arm around her. “That was better than good. That was…damn.”

  She smiled and kissed the side of his chest. “Good.”

  “I thought I was supposed to do all the work.”

  “I changed my mind. But it was purely from efficiency. I figured that was the quickest way to get to the snuggling time.”

  He chuckled at her teasing tone. “Cupcake, after that, we can snuggle as much as you want.”

  “Good.”

  He tilted his head down to kiss her softly, and she couldn’t seem to stop smiling. She’d never felt like this in her life—like she was so deeply connected with him, both body and soul.

  They lay in silence for a few minutes. She stroked his chest, and he stroked her hair and back, both of them wrapped up in their own thoughts.

  Then she asked, without segue, “Why did you lie about your brother?”

  His body tightened briefly—in surprise, probably. “What do you mean?”

  “The other day, when you were telling me about how your brother died. You lied to me. You said it was an accident that was nobody’s fault.”

  He let out a long sigh, with a different resonance than his pleased exhales before. “I was afraid you might recognize the story, since his death made international news.”

  “Oh. I thought maybe it was…it was because you didn’t want to open up to me.”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Then, “Maybe it was. Michael dying was one of the hardest things that ever happened to me. He and my mom were the only family I ever had. And, by then, I was already starting to see I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from my uncle. When Michael died, it felt like half of me was torn away. It’s hard to talk about.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “I’m not really big on opening up to other people.”

  She shifted so she could look into his face. “I know you kind of closed down after what happened with your uncle, but you can open up to me. You know that, right?”

  He answered after a few seconds. “Yeah.”

  “You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He caressed her cheek with one hand.

  “So I hope you’ll be honest with me. I feel like we have something really good.” She laid her hand over his heart. Normally, she was more careful in the early days of a relationship, but it felt different with Ben. It felt like they were together in a way she’d never been with anyone else. “I want to be close to you.”

  Again, it took him a minute to answer. “I’m trying, Cupcake. I’m really going to try.”

  She nodded, feeling happy again. After all, it would be unreasonable for her to expect Ben to change overnight and immediatel
y become an open man who poured his heart out without qualm. The things that shaped a life couldn’t be forgotten just because you wanted them to be. “Good. I’m going to try too. I never would have thought this would work between us, but I think it really can. I want it to.”

  He leaned down to brush a kiss into her hair. “Me too.”

  She was getting sleepy, but she wanted to keep talking to him, so she mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m so crazy about you. But maybe it can work between us. Now that you aren’t such a hulking Neanderthal.”

  The words made sense in her head, but she vaguely wondered if she’d articulated them in a way that could be understood. Then she wondered why Ben’s body tightened briefly, but she was drifting to sleep, so she decided she’d think about it the next morning.

  ***

  On Saturday evening, Ben put on his new tuxedo, and he immediately felt like he couldn’t breathe.

  He and Mandy had slept later than they meant to that morning. He’d fallen asleep shortly after she had, and he didn’t wake up until almost eight. He almost never slept so soundly, and it was disorienting. As was Mandy’s sweet, trusting face when she opened groggy eyes and smiled at him.

  He wanted to see her face like that every morning, but the fact that he wanted it so much sent a cold wave of fear through him.

  Everything was happening so fast. It was like his whole life had been upended. He wasn’t sure he could keep up.

  He was still the same man he’d been two weeks ago, with or without the beard. And yet Mandy was looking at him like he was different, like he was one of those pulled-together guys she was looking for who could give her the stable marriage and family she wanted.

  That wasn’t Ben. It just wasn’t.

  Now, he would have to try to please her, and he knew all too well that such attempts never worked out.

  She thought he wasn’t a “hulking Neanderthal” anymore, but he was. He still was.

  He managed to hide his worries, since they would only hurt her, and he’d smiled when she told him he better work outside today so the lower half of his face could get a little sun.

  They’d done some work in the yard, until it had gotten too hot. Then Mandy and his mother had gone to a salon in preparation for the cotillion that night.