Caught Up: With An Alpha Billionaire (A BWWM Romance) (A Love Like No Other Book 1) (5 page)

He reached across the table and unknotted my hands, taking one in his. He rubbed his thumb over my palm. The skin-on-skin contact was electrifying, and I tried to ignore the effect it was having on me.

“The problem is,” he murmured, “it didn’t work. 

“It didn’t work?” I breathed, the stroking of his thumb erotic. I thought of how his thumbs stroked my breasts, teasing my nipples. I thought of his fingers probing –

I mentally shook myself, bringing my mind back to the moment at hand.

“No,” he said, leaning in towards me slightly. “I want you more now.”

“Oh,” I said, speechless for once.

His hand that wasn’t stroking mine reached under the table and found my bare knee. I had long ago abandoned stockings, deciding they were an old-lady thing, and at that moment I regretted the decision. Because his large hand on my leg made me tingle, the sensation shooting up my thigh and ending at my crotch. My heart was pounding now, and I could feel it all the way in my ears.

His look was so intense it was scorching. I swallowed thickly.

“What do you think we should do to solve this problem, then?” I asked, willing my voice to be steady.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, and I’ll show you,” he said, his hand traveling up my inner thigh as high as he could reach.

I was lost under his thrall. “If you think that’s the only way, then I guess I’m in.”

He smiled at me, withdrew his hand, and fished out his wallet. The server hadn’t even returned with my wine yet, but I didn’t care.

Opening his wallet, he threw a hundred dollar bill on the table and we both slid out of our seats. I grabbed my briefcase off the floor and started out of the room.

He followed me, his hand possessively at the nape of my neck. My legs were rubbery with anticipation.

The whole room practically shimmered as we walked out, our need radiating to everyone. I didn’t care.  I wanted him, and he wanted me.

As we entered the lobby, his hand slid from my neck down to the small of my back, the sensation of his fingertips sliding across my spine making me squirm with pleasure. My cunt was throbbing now, the thought of what he was going to do to me making my breath catch.

I started to head towards the door, but he steered me towards the desk. I looked at him quizzically, and he just smiled. 

We made our way to reception and the woman behind it – another tall blonde – smiled at him eagerly.

“Mr. Richardson,” she said, eyeing me. “How can I help you?”

“I need the keys to my suite,” he replied, impatiently.

She handed it over without comment, though I’m sure she could see exactly what our intentions were. “Suite 204. Do you need more than one –“

“No,” he said, grabbing the card.

We were already walking away when the receptionist called after us, “Of course, Mr. Richardson. Have a nice evening.”

He slid his arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the elevator. I jabbed the button for “Up” and he pulled me towards him so the length of our bodies were against one another.

The elevator opened and we stepped inside, alone. As soon as the door closed, his hands moved to my ass and he pressed my hips to his.

I could feel the length of him under his pants, probing into my belly and wanting entrance. He captured my lips with his own and forced my mouth open, his tongue invading me, parrying with my own.

A small moan escaped the back of my throat and I pulled away. “We only have to go one floor,” I breathed, and as I said it, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

“Thank God,” he said. “I was going to rip up your skirt and do you right here if we had to go any higher,” he groaned.

“I think that would just cause more problems than we’re solving,” I muttered, and I could feel him grin as we exited the elevator and started down the hall to the left.

We found his suite fast and he punched the key card into the lock. The little light flashed green and he pushed the door open, and we stepped inside.

The interior was modern and opulent, a huge space with soaring windows and tasteful yet expensive furnishings. I saw a conference table, a living area with a sofa and huge flat-screen TV, and a kitchenette.

I didn’t have much time to enjoy my surroundings, though. The door hadn’t even fully closed behind us as I dropped my briefcase and he roughly pulled off my suit jacket, his mouth again hot on mine. I grabbed his shirttail and pulled it out of his pants, sliding my hands underneath to find his firm stomach and warm skin.

“Tiffany,” he moaned against my mouth. There was more need and heat in that one word than I’d heard from any man, ever. I almost climaxed just from hearing him say my name.

I pulled my hands from his shirt and found his pants button, undoing it and sliding down the zipper. I massaged his massive length through the material of his boxers, and he groaned, pushing me against the wall of the hotel room.

As I rubbed him, he bent down and grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it up so it bunched around my waist. I was wearing bikini panties, and he quickly pushed them down around my knees so I was bared to him. He wedged his knees between my thighs and pushed them open, spreading me for better access.

His fingers found my wet heat and dove into me, sliding into the silkiness with first one finger, then two. I gasped and arched into him, and then he pulled out and began to work my clit between his fingertips.

“God, Alex,” I whispered, feeling my orgasm build in my crotch and my pussy become wetter. “Can’t we at least make it to the bed?” I breathed.

“No,” he answered, pumping his fingers inside me again, hard and forceful. “I want to make you come right here.”

Between his spoken desire and his thrusting fingers, my body responded and I broke over the edge of my climax, bucking into his hand, my muscles answering with a mind of their own.

He didn’t give me time to recover as he pushed his pants and underwear down and parted my legs further. He squatted slightly then slammed into me, burying himself fully, my body stretching in accommodation to his size.

For a moment, we both savored the union of our bodies, then his want took over and he pulled back, almost out of me. He slid in again, this time a little slower, enjoying the sweet friction he created with his thrust.

I disentangled my left leg from my panties and slid them off my foot, then bent my leg up to hook around his waist. His size and girth were exquisite, and I wanted to feel him inside me as much as I could; I wanted to open as far as I could for him. He moaned in response, feeling himself go deeper, losing himself in me.

He braced one hand against the wall to the side of me and with the other he gripped my breast through my thin shirt, massaging roughly, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger so it was painfully hard. The sensation spread through my chest and into my pelvis, the pain and the pleasure mixing in a sweet contradiction.

His mouth dropped open and his breath was coming in short pants now, and his thrusting became more irregular. I could tell he was close to coming, and I met his movements. I could feel another orgasm of my own starting and I gritted my teeth, willing the wave to crash.

As we met each other’s thrusts we both toppled over the brinks of our climaxes together, the pleasure leaving us both breathless.

We came back to ourselves, and he pulled out. I felt thick wetness cover my upper thighs as he pulled me towards the bedroom. Once inside, we collapsed in a heap together on the king bed.

“Did that solve your problem?” I asked wryly, when we both caught our breaths.

“Dammit,” he muttered, passing a hand over his face, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “I’m pretty sure that complicated everything.”

***

After we freed ourselves from our rumpled and tangled clothes, we slid under the covers and slept, me nestled in his arms. I couldn’t remember a time when my body had felt so utterly satiated, my exhaustion so complete.

Not so with Alex, though. It turns out he was an over-achiever in not just business, but sex as well.

About 4:30 I awoke to his hands roaming over my naked body, exploring my curves, warming my skin. His front was to my back, and I could feel his erection throbbing against the swell of my ass.

“You can’t be ready to go again,” I muttered, rolling over and sliding my hand behind his neck.

“I was ready to go an hour ago, but I thought I’d let you sleep,” he murmured against my neck, nipping my collarbone gently, flicking his tongue out to trace a hot, wet trail up to my earlobe.

My cunt started to throb in response, but the size and force of our wall-fucking had left me more than a little sore. I didn’t know if I was quite ready to take him in again.

I pressed my lips to his, tracing his bottom lip lightly with my tongue. He slid his tongue into my mouth and I took it, sucking it in rhythmically. He groaned. His hand dipped between my legs and parted my lips, pressing into the folds of my core, probing with need.

When his fingertip found my clit, I jerked with pleasure, feeling the jolt all the way up to my throat. I sucked his tongue a few more times then pulled back.

I looked into his eyes deeply, his gray irises luminous in the dark. I smiled at him then began to move, pressing kisses along his neck, down to his chest, further still to his flat abs.

He knew what I had in mind and he rolled over so he was flat on his back. I slid my hands underneath his back, moving down to grip his rear as I nipped and kissed passed his belly button, all the way to where his cock waited at attention.

I pulled one of my hands out from behind him and grabbed him, pumping the shaft slowly, sliding up and back, priming him. When he started to thrust slightly, I took the tip into my mouth as I continued to work him. I heard his pleasure escape his lips in a hiss.

There was no way I was going to be able to get all of him in my mouth, so I took him in as far as my gag reflex would allow and sucked gently. He groaned, gripping the sheets next to his hips. I let my tongue flick against the sensitive underside, then languorously slide around the head, teasing him.

As I sucked him, pressure grew in my own core. Even though I wasn’t ready for him to be inside me again, it didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for another orgasm.

I continued to lick and suck, and pump his length with my left hand. I let my right hand travel to my breast, pinching the dark brown nipple and rolling it between my fingers. Then I ran it down my stomach and plunged between my legs, finding my own sex with my fingers and beginning to rub.

He could tell what I was doing, and I could tell it turned him on even more. “I want you to come while you’re in my mouth,” he moaned, caressing the side of my head, then twining his hand in my now-mussed hair. He gently guided my head up and down his length, my tongue still swirling and stroking. I sucked harder, letting him pull back a little, then thrust into my mouth.

My own climax threatened, so increased the speed on his cock, and he began to pant. I was rubbing myself furiously now, my fingers wildly working my clit. I tensed as I started to come, and he moaned as he started to pump into my mouth.

I kept ahold of the base of him as he finished, and then withdrew my fingers from between my legs. I crawled back up him as his erection retreated and my own blood returned to where it was supposed to go, rushing out of my pelvis.

“You are so sexy,” he whispered hoarsely. He kissed me slowly, dipping his tongue into my mouth, tasting himself. Then he took hold of my wrist and brought my right hand to his mouth, capturing my fingers and sucking them, savoring the taste of my arousal.

“You’re not too bad, either,” I replied, liking the feel of his tongue against my fingers. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the pillow, stretching my legs out next to his, enjoying the feel of his body against mine.

I was trying not to think of the professional repercussions of our actions; we could talk about that in the morning. For the moment, I just wanted to lie next to him, and revel in the idea that hopefully, I was no longer just a problem to be solved.

***

We slept until 9, both of us exhausted from our activities the night before. Since it was a Saturday, I didn’t have any specific place to be; my plan had been to work on the case and take a run, provided my ankle held up okay.

When he awoke, he smiled down at me, his dark hair mussed and splayed out against the pillow, his sensuous lips looking downright edible. I smiled back and kissed him.

As we lay in each other’s arms, I felt complete and at peace, and knew those were dangerous things to feel. I knew he wanted me, he’d told me that the night before. But I had no idea what kind of plans he had going forward, or if he just wanted a physical relationship. It sounded like, based on his previous experiences, that was how he operated.

He fucked so well I was pretty prepared to accept those terms.

I rolled away from him and off the bed, and started locating my clothes. He had hurt me the first time we had sex; I didn’t want to give him the opportunity again. And if he indeed did want just a physical relationship, lying happily in his arms the morning after a roll in the hay—or the hotel room – wasn’t going to do me any good.

Best to avoid attachment if at all possible.

I found my underwear, and pulled them on. My bra and skirt were next, and finally I found my shirt and slid it over my head. I needed a shower, but I would wait until I got home to get one.

“So,” I started, my back to him as I dressed, “I’m worried I should take myself off your case.”

I could hear the bed creak as he sat up. “Why?”

“It’s not professional for me to represent you if we have a…relationship.” I explained, looking for my shoes and remembering I had abandoned them by the door to the suite.

I felt, rather than heard, him come up behind me. He slid his arms around my waist and my breath caught, feeling his form press against me. He was hard again, and I could feel him against my backside.

“I don’t want you off the case,” he said, his breath hot against my ear.

“No?” I asked, fighting for calmness and clarity. His roving hands made that hard to maintain.

“No,” he answered, rubbing himself against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh,” I said, as his hand slid against my breast, the thin barriers of my shirt and bra doing nothing to protect me from the heat of his touch.

“Actually,” he said, running his hand down my stomach and beginning to hike up my skirt, “I want you on the case. I’ve reviewed the strategy papers and deposition questions you sent over, and I think they’re brilliant. Much better than Stephen would have done,” he said, inching the skirt up my thighs.

I frowned, forgetting my arousal for a moment. “You want me on the case, specifically?” I asked, my body stilling.

He kissed my neck as his hand found its destination under my skirt.  “Yes. Not because of…this,” he said, sliding a finger inside my underwear, “but because I think you’ll do a good job.”

I remembered the night before, when I thought he was going to destroy my ego. So much for that. His words pumped me in a way he couldn’t begin to comprehend – especially since Stephen had pretty much admitted that he was giving me the case because there was nobody else to take it.