Boxed Set: Rocked by a Billionaire – Vol. 1-3 (11 page)

"I don't need you to lecture me, Sasha. I apologized for last time, what more do you want? I feel as if I'm back in the school playground..."

"That's true! But I'll take care of this... You need to get a few lessons in manners, young lady ... and I intend to give you a few private lessons ... um ... very private ... I want to tame you, wild child!"

His voice took on a very different tone ... it was hot and very sensual. He was winning me over! I gave up any desire to fight, to take over, to make him pay ... I was just relieved that he'd called and our story was not over. I didn't need anything else for now. The certainty that at some point I was going to be able to curl up in his arms was enough to make me let my guard down completely. I was wrong, no doubt about that.

"I don't need any lessons, I said in a tone full of hidden meanings ... I could give you a few by the way, watch out ..."

"Um ... I think that could please me ... you as the schoolmistress ... but later! For now, you need to hurry and pack your bags. Your plane leaves for Hong Kong in two hours!"

"What? Uh, I mean, sorry? Hong Kong? Two hours? Impossible, I'm still in bed..."

"If you had answered the phone yesterday, you would have been able to organize yourself accordingly!"

Unbelievable, he always manages to shut me up.

"But, uh, no ... wait ... I can't..."

"Come on, hurry up," he said. "You are expected in Hong Kong. We are meeting potential clients. You don't want to be reprimanded when you have just taken on a new position, do you?"

"My new job? But I haven't said that I've accepted it yet..."

"Are you refusing it?" he cut in dryly.

"No, of course not..." (So much for me making an impact.)

"In that case, you have a plane to catch in two hours."

The minute he hung up, there was a knock at the door. Oh boy, everything felt completely muddled. In my head, in my life and in this suite ... Everything, absolutely everything, was just surprises, back pedaling and questions. My head was spinning and I couldn't think clearly.

Steven asked me if I was ready as we had to leave immediately for the airport.

Ready? No, of course I wasn't ready! I was still in my pajamas. There was no time to take a shower, and I quickly grabbed whatever clothes I could lay my hands on and shoved what I could into the bag. Fortunately, I hadn't unpacked yet.

I dashed into the bathroom, turbo-brushed my teeth, grabbed whatever I could and followed Steven. No question of missing the plane.

The airport, the flight and the landing passed in a flash. And even better, I slept the whole way, which stopped me going over and over the same questions about Sacha. Why doesn't he just let me go? Who is that blonde? What exactly is the nature of his relationship with Natalia? Is he really married? No, surely not ... But most of all: where did I fit in to all this? I felt I couldn't compete with all these women (and obviously there were many of them!) who had been a part of his life. I think this is what hurt me the most. Whenever I thought about it, it felt like a blade being rammed into my stomach. Would I just be his mistress? A maid-servant that is hidden away ... I didn't expect him to officialize our "relationship" (if it could be called a relationship?). That was not what I wanted or needed. But the idea that I would only be some fifth wheel, no matter what happened, was excruciatingly painful. I couldn't bear to be the last resort. No way.

When I arrived in Hong Kong I didn't even bother going to the bathroom. I knew he would probably just send one of his blokes to pick up the "delivery". So, no need to overdo it. I'd have plenty of time to wash and change at the hotel.

As I pushed my little trolley towards the exit, I just about choked (and fell onto the trolley) when I saw the tall figure detach himself from the crowd that had come to welcome the passengers.

Oh my God ... I looked like a slob. I hadn't even had time to shower before I left ... I started sweating and blushing at the same time, desperately trying to make myself small. I glanced to the right and to the left, carefully avoiding his direction. There was no way out. If I really prayed, maybe I would be able to completely disappear under the trolley!

Oh, woe is me...

I was totally panicked and made as if I was going to turn back, pretending to have forgotten something in the toilet.

"Liz? Liz? Yoo-hoo? Are you blind or what? Is something wrong?"

Sacha's stature dominated me. His jade-green eyes were planted on my flushed face. His raised eyebrow amplified his curiosity.

"Oh, no, uh ... sorry ... it's just that I thought ... well ... I didn't think you'd come in person ... I would have been a bit ... how should I put it ...refreshed, that's it ... refreshed ... if I had known that ... you'd be here..."

His laugh echoed across the airport hall like a rocket, making me jump!

"Liz, you're really ... uh, how can I say this ... priceless, that's it, priceless," he said mockingly, grabbing me by the shoulders.

I blushed even more and, apart from feeling terribly ridiculous, I just felt terrible.

He discreetly kissed me on the forehead. He would have to wait for a warmer reception! He stepped back, grabbed my trolley and said happily:

"Let's go straight to the hotel, I think you need a good bath!"

We took a taxi across the city. It was hot and humid. I kept my distance on the back seat where I was dripping with sweat, Sacha didn't seek any contact either. He was busy talking to a client on the phone. Wide-eyed, I took in every second of this nocturnal urban sight. The city was buzzing with men and women who moved like ants looking for sugar. Bright billboards hung on every corner of the walls and facades, giving the impression of an endless garland of fire, of a city never really knew the darkness of the night. I was blown away, enthralled by what was being offered to me. Hong Kong wasn't like New York. Hong Kong was unique.

The taxi stopped and I reluctantly tore myself away from the back seat. Sacha used this opportunity to bid his client farewell. I was dead tired from all the travelling, the jet lag and the rest, but I didn't want to miss a minute of this new adventure.

A porter opened the door and we entered a huge hall, done out entirely in marble and stained glass, reflections of the most luxurious establishments. Sacha led me to the elevator; we were still being escorted by a porter who carried my luggage. Even if he seemed unfazed, Sacha slipped a hand under my T-shirt in the elevator ... I felt an electric shock on contact with his palm and could not help my breasts from reacting. Sacha noticed this immediately, of course. Sacha, an elevator and me? It's true that elevators have always had a shocking effect on me.

As I expected, the suite was highly sophisticated, with a contemporary design and discreet luxury, like a cocoon. I felt at home straight away and walked in silence over to the huge bay window overlooking the sea. It was pitch black and it looked as if the sea was breathing. The reflections of the city made it look luminescent. The night ahead held many promises.

Sacha took leave of the porter and approached me from behind. I was about to turn around to face him and talk, but he placed a finger on my mouth...

"Shh!" he said softly in my ear, stroking the lobe. "From now on, don't say a word, I will handle everything, I will deal with you ... If you talk, I'll stop!"

OK! I was just as surprised as I was excited by this game. I let myself be guided.

Sacha pulled me towards the small upholstered armchair that faced the bay window and forced me to sit down. I looked at him, a little taken aback, but a bit amused as well. He always had this special way of putting me in the best position, so to speak. When I wasn't with him, I was obsessed with all kinds of questions. When I was with him, I was possessed.

I saw him disappear into the next room and heard the noise of taps turning and the flowing of water, and finally the sound of glass clinking ... When he reappeared he had a look of satisfaction. I didn't dare say anything and contented myself to watch and appreciate the sight of his perfect physique. He had pulled the sleeves of his white shirt up onto his powerful forearms; his jeans were just tight enough so that I could see the contraction of his buttocks with each step. He was well built: thin and muscular at the same time. He radiated sensuality in his every move, every gesture. I had only one desire: to jump on him, rip the buttons off his shirt, violently unzip his jeans and pull out his cock which, judging by the size of the bump in his denim, was already erect. This could only lead me straight to seventh heaven. I swallowed my saliva, and edged further back into the seat. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slowly untied the laces of his derby shoes without taking his eyes off me, flashes full of sexual promises in his eyes. He got up and, ever so slowly, pulled up the sides of his shirt which fell carelessly over his jeans.

I was so wet, my legs were tightly clamped together. My God, it's amazing the mind is capable of causing such bodily reactions!

He dimmed the lights and put on an opera aria ... then he came back to me.

He untied the laces of my Converse sneakers, pulled them off and threw them aside, adding that he never wanted to see me in sneakers again! Then he gently rolled down my socks until they fell to the ground. I never thought having my socks removed could be so sexy. His thumb stroked the instep - I shivered right down to my toes - then up along my ankle to the calf that he lightly scratched. I bit my lip to keep from saying
"Ouch"
. His hands passed over the fabric of my pants, moving up my waist, tapping his fingers all the way. I stroked his hair and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt as he began to climb up towards me. But he grabbed my hand, kissed it and said:

"Shh. Don't move!"

I wanted to tell him that he had forbidden me to speak, not to move! But I decided to shut up. I didn't want him to leave me now that my desire was begging to be satisfied.

When he reached my waist, he grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my arms. I was bare-chested (I never wear a bra when I take a plane) and my high, firm breasts were showing an almost palpable excitement. Sacha stepped back, displaying a satisfied smile. He was enjoying the effect he had on me. He pulled me up by my hands so I was standing, and began taking away the last of my clothes - my jeans and panties - slowly as always. I was completely naked, completely open, completely lubricated.

Sacha disappeared into the bathroom for a second, presumably to stop the water, then he came back and stood in front of me. He stayed there, his thighs pressing against the chair, and began stroking my hair. His gesture might have seemed affectionate, but he was so close to me that I felt the bump of his erection knocking into my cheek each time he moved his arms. Did he want me to suck him off? I was dying to, but I didn't dare take the lead. He pulled away from me, and I sighed. He went over to the console where a bottle of champagne was waiting. He opened it and, without taking his eyes off me, poured the champagne into two glasses. It was like we were shooting a scene in a porn movie; everything in his attitude, everything in this room was just for sex, sex, sex. He came back and, still without saying a word, he handed me one of the glasses. He took his glass but instead of drinking from it, he poured a few drops of the liquid between my breasts, and put the flute down. I took a sip and put mine down as well. He knelt down and began slowly licking every drop of champagne, in the furrow between my breasts, moving towards my stomach and then my pussy. His firm tongue found its way to my labia, my clitoris. He poured a little more champagne and licked and licked until he wasn't thirsty anymore ... while I was swelling with desire, my legs fully spread, my chest shaken by my ragged breathing.

He got up, took my hand and led me into the bathroom. The tub was half full of crystal clear water. There was no foam. The bathroom was filled with the fragrances of bathsalts. I took a quick glance and saw the little glass bottles open on the edge of the bathtub. The humidity perfectly suited the feeling of abandonment that reigned in the room large enough to accommodate this enormous round bath.

Without Sacha saying anything, I understood that I was to get into the bath. Was he going to join me? It was a mystery. I put one foot in the water -
ouch, it was almost boiling hot
- I turned to Sacha and his look told me that he wanted me to get into the bath despite the temperature. I climbed in, holding my breath. Every pore of my skin stung and reddened when the hot water touched it. This sudden submission, so unlike me, was wonderful at the time - terribly sexy. Oh yes, I wanted him to guide me, be in command, dominate me. No soppy emotions with him, and that was fine with me. It would've cooled me down I'm sure. I settled down into the depths of the tub, my skin dotted with red pinpricks. Sacha approached, still dressed, grabbed a loofah and began to wash me delectably slowly. He didn't miss a single inch, not even the tiniest part of my anatomy, alternating between gentle and slightly rougher movements. Not for one moment did he allow his eyes to stray from his work. I understood why he hadn't used bubble bath. I closed my eyes and completely released myself to this intense, carnal adventure.

When he finished, he gently pulled me up by the hand and I stepped out of the water. I felt like a marshmallow, a marshmallow ready to melt ... I was completely relaxed, The fatigue from the journey had gone, but I had no desire to sleep! Sacha quickly dried me and put a silk bathrobe over my shoulders. I was still wet and the fabric clung to my skin. From behind he put a blindfold over my eyes.

"Come," he whispered in my ear.

The opera aria in the background made the whole scene more surrealistic. I had been intimately washed by my lover and I was now even more at his mercy; blindfolded and only wearing a silk bathrobe. All this without us exchanging a word.

I felt the bed knock against my calves and I lay down, trying to be as sensual as possible. I felt Sacha very close to me and not being able to see him was extremely confusing, infinitely exciting. He parted the folds of the kimono and I felt his mouth on my stomach. It was amazingly gentle. With the same slowness as before, he licked me from the navel to the pubis, down to my lips, titillating my clitoris, and then back up to my breasts. I felt the strength of his chest on me as he slowly slid up my body (he had undressed!), and his tender kisses had a powerful effect. He sucked my breast like a baby, biting the tip, and he moaned as he sucked my other breast. I arched my back and grabbed his hair, which made Sacha suddenly stop. He pulled away from me. Where was he, what was he doing? I was dying to know. I was burning up with desire. I silently begged he wouldn't stop now. All of a sudden I felt something around my wrists; he was tying up my hands! He whispered in my ear to relax. I had no idea what I was tied to, but both my arms were tied above my head. I refrained from speaking again; I was just a ball of desire, ready to satisfy any of his sexual demands. Sacha continued to lick every square inch of my skin. I climbed onto my knees and opened my legs without even thinking - my body had taken over. I wanted him to take me now, I wanted to feel his cock in me, I wanted him to fuck me, to pound me and make me come ... I was ready. Could he read my mind or was the arousal of my flesh so obvious? I couldn't wait any longer and just as I was going to beg him to take me, he pulled out his cock and pushed it into my vagina. He penetrated me so slowly that I wriggled my ass to make him move faster ... I was on the verge of explosion. I felt I was going to come loudly, even before he began his backward and forward rhythm. Once again he must have read my thoughts, because he said,
"slowly now,"
as if trying to tame a wild mare. Methodically, he penetrated and pulled out of me while licking and biting my breasts, always with the same control. My flesh opened to each movement. I was being consumed from the inside and only an orgasm could calm this fire, this desire that was almost painful. Then he leaned on his elbows and quickened the pace. I felt his heart beating against my chest and he was dripping with sweat. Each thrust caused a spasm in me, while the opera singer yelled in the background. I was about to lose control when he said
"Come, now! '
... and I melted with a guttural sigh.