Flown By The Billionaire (3 page)

Looking back, I think that it was a mistake
to try to avoid each other. The only purpose it served was to
create a tension between us that gradually ballooned, until one day
the inevitable happened: it burst.

We were on our way back from Los Angeles
where Alex had been attending a conference. During the journey,
he’d remained in the front of the cabin and I’d been tucked away
behind the bar, finding pointless jobs to do. About two hours from
landing, he called me over.

“Melissa,” he said, rising from his seat. “I
wanted to say I’m sorry for the awkwardness between us lately.”

“No need to apologize,” I said, smiling and
turning in the hope that would be all he had to say.

However, he quickly grasped my wrist to
prevent me from leaving. “Please don’t go,” he said. “I…” he
glanced down at the fingers he held firmly, but not roughly, around
my wrist and gradually withdrew them. When his focus moved back to
my face, his eyes were filled with something I could not
define.

Then, unexpectedly, his head moved toward
mine, not in a sudden rush; but a measured, deliberately slow pace.
I had plenty of time to step away from him, but I couldn’t. I
didn’t want to. Even though a part of me knew that the consequences
could be disastrous both professionally and personally, the larger
part disregarded all thoughts of next week, tomorrow, or even an
hour from that moment.

It felt like an eternity. His warmth
gradually closing in on me, the sandalwood scent of his cologne
growing stronger, and his presence becoming more powerful. Then,
gently, oh so gently, he melded his soft lips to mine.

I stood there, my hands by my sides, unsure
of what to do with them. My eyes dropped heavily and I moved my
lips beneath his, pursing and molding them gently until our two
mouths seemed to fit perfectly.

Until that moment, I’d never experienced a
kiss quite as delicious and sweet as his. He hummed contentedly and
the low rumble in his chest vibrated against my breasts. I hadn’t
even realized he’d stepped forward and that the lengths of our
bodies were pressed together just like our lips.

He was firm, rigid, reliable and strong. All
of those things ignited a sudden fiery passion that I didn’t know
was held inside of me. It was no longer enough to feel his muscular
frame against me. All of the fantasies I’d had about him; the
dreams I’d woken from feeling hot, restless, and yearning, paled in
comparison to the reality of me having him.

Both of my hands moved quickly to his chest,
running up the silky surface of his shirt and exploring the curves
of his hard pecs until I reached his broad, sturdy shoulders.
Lacing my fingers around his neck, I pulled him hungrily closer,
while my lips parted in a moan of delight.

His right arm seemed to instinctively loop
around my waist and he tugged me to him with the same degree of
desire. His tongue swept into my mouth, the tip drawing tenderly in
and out, coaxing mine into a strange, slow, sensual wrestle.

I whimpered, my lower half moving unbidden
in small rhythmic thrusts against his hard hip bone. My heart was
racing, blood pounding raw heat and lust throughout my body. My
head swam with nothing but pure need until I felt the dampness
spreading in the crotch of my panties.

Alex moved a couple of steps back and pulled
me with him. Not that I needed any encouragement, he would have had
to pry me off him. My fingers were trying desperately to grasp his
hair, and my lips moved frantically, clasping and unclasping
between hurried pants for breath.

His legs unexpectedly struck the couch and
he let his body fall heavily into the seat. I stumbled forward with
him, not expecting the sudden loss of his tall and strong frame.
Our mouths parted and I gave a cry of surprise, as I found myself
falling forward. But he had me. His hands were securely on my waist
and he guided me onto his lap.

My knees landed on either side of his thighs
and no more than a second later, I found myself shuffling closer. I
was taller than him now, and it was he now who looked up to me,
awaiting a kiss. For a moment, I simply looked at him. With the
back of my hand I caressed the line of his cheekbone and upper jaw.
“Alex,” I whispered, my voice thick and hoarse.

As his fingers moved from my waist, his
touch slid down to my thighs. He rubbed them gently before moving
back up and around to my buttocks, which he cupped in his
possessive masculine hands.

My eyes snapped shut and I jerked at the
sudden, sexy aggressiveness. “Ahh,” I mewled.

He said nothing as he increased his grip
slightly and pulled me closer to him.

My pubic bone struck his with a sharp bump,
but I didn’t have an opportunity to dwell on that. Instead, my
senses were focused on the large, hard swell that was pushing
against my aroused, swollen outer lips. “Alex,” I panted, eyes
widened in shock at the scorching heat that permeated his pants.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” I blurted.

“You want to stop?” he said, his face
dipping forward to the hint of cleavage that was visible between
the sides of my blouse. As he kissed his way up the curve of one
breast, my chest began to heave with breathless excitement and my
nipples strained at the lacy fabric of my bra.

“Oh, God,” I gasped, lunging my hips
forward.

Leaving my right breast, he moved his
attention to the right, mumbling against my skin. “Do you want me
to stop?”

“No,” I whimpered, one hand moving in small
circles over the back of his head and neck. “No,” I repeated.

Once his mouth had explored every inch of
skin available to him, he lifted his head and his hands unfurled
from around me. His intense eyes had grown darker with lust and he
fixed them intently on my face. His fingers then gently untied the
knotted scarf around my neck. Sweeping the silk away from my skin,
his lips immediately descended on this newly exposed flesh. Setting
every inch of my body aflame, he nibbled and licked his way from my
collarbone to my earlobe. Meanwhile, his hands were occupied with
the buttons of my blouse and were soon edging the cotton off my
shoulders.

I quickly released my hold of him to shed
the shirt, before wrapping my arms tighter than ever around his
neck. “Oh Alex,” I whispered, bending my face to his ear and taking
the rim gently between my teeth.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “I need you.” His fingers
were at my back, unhooking my bra. With deft, warm hands, he
rapidly tugged the material from me, baring my breasts to him.

One nipple was soon enveloped by his hot
mouth. His teeth teased the tight distended nub and his tongue
tracing it almost reverently.

The need to feel the warmth of his flesh
overwhelmed me. Once he released my arms to allow my bra to drop to
the floor, I then grasped feverishly at the front of his shirt.
With his mouth still intent at my bosom, it was difficult to reach
his buttons. With struggled and frustrated groans, I yanked
gracelessly at the material.

Eventually, with a chuckle, Alex lifted his
face. “Would you like some help?” he asked, his hands smoothing up
my torso and caressing the outer edges of my breasts.

Squirming as chills shot down the length of
my spine, I exhaled a shaky breath. “I can do it,” I eventually
said, recovering myself just enough to refocus my attentions on his
shirt. Able to see now, I moved smoothly and unfastened three
buttons before placing my palm on the toned chest I’d uncovered. It
was just as firm and powerful as it had seemed clothed. The warmth
and softness was contrasted with rugged dark hair, which was fine
and short, and covered much of his upper torso. The rest of the
shirt and his tie were still in my way and with a frenzy of
movement, I tugged at the tie, slipping the shorter end through the
knot and chucking the black silk over my shoulder. Surprising
myself, I then pushed the white shirt off his shoulders, dipping my
head to kiss his collarbone.

In all my previous sexual encounters, I had
been passive. I’d been willing enough, but was too nervous and
unsure to make any kind of advance. I’d never even had the nerve to
be on top. Sitting astride Alex was, in and of itself, a first. But
somehow, with him, nervousness and fear took a backseat. I was
driven by desire, the like of which I’d never known. Suddenly, I
understood what it was to
want
someone sexually, to need
them so desperately that nothing else in the world mattered; not my
parents’ expectations or the religious dogma. If the priests and
nuns were right and I was going to hell, what a way to go!

Alex leaned forward so he could yank the
shirt from his arms, and I instantly threw my hands around his
back, pushing my breasts against his solid chest. He glanced up and
I brought my face down to his, kissing him passionately as I
enjoyed the pressure and warmth of his body against my taut
nipples.

As I sucked his lower lip into my mouth, his
fingers gripped the hem of my skirt and began to hike it upward.
There was purpose and hunger in his actions, but he managed to move
with grace and a control that I found very sexy.

Bundling my skirt at my waist, he trailed
gentle fingers over the edge of my panties. In response, my hips
rocked and pushed my inflamed sex to his engorged penis. With a
groan, he removed his lips from mine and looked directly into my
eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he mumbled, as one hand lifted to my
face and scooped a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The fingers
of his other hand were slipping down into my panties.

I froze, every muscle in my body tensing
with dread. I hadn’t prepared for this. If I’d allowed myself to
think that it could actually happen, maybe I would have waxed for
him; that’s what most men like, I thought to myself. As it was, my
hair was trimmed and shaved into a neat triangle, but what if he
didn’t like it? What if he was used to hairless women, and found me
unattractive or even disgusting?

The tips of his fingers moved inextricably
lower, meeting the hair that began at my pubic bone. He didn’t
pause; there was no surprise, no reaction of any kind. Instead, his
hand continued to smooth lower, eventually reaching my distended
lips and drawing his forefinger between them.

I watched his face closely, searching for
any sign of disappointment with my body. He was still looking up at
me, his features fervid and open. As Alex’s moistened finger slid
up to my clitoris, my jaw fell open in a silent moan of pleasure. I
was no longer able to keep my eyes on his. Instead, they drifted
closed and my head dropped back.

“Alex, please,” I panted, thrusting slightly
and offering my needy opening to his affectionate touch.

However, he did not heed my request. While
his index finger continued to roll playfully over the swollen bead,
his middle finger stroked between my folds.

He was driving me insane with longing.
Blistering heat flushed my face, throbbing desire pulsed through my
passage, and an ache of restlessness had settled heavily in my
pelvis.

“God, you’re sexy,” he whispered, his hand
at my face curling around the back of my head and coaxing me down
to him.

I went willingly, dropping forward until my
forehead rested on his. Gradually, I opened my eyes, my vision
hazy.

“Look at me,” he urged.

I blinked, trying to focus on him. His eyes
were so unwavering in their intensity that I felt helpless and
vulnerable. My breath was still coming hard and fast in my chest; I
kept my gaze on him.

Leaving my clitoris bereft, his forefinger
moved to join the middle one and he gently pushed both until the
tips slipped almost imperceptibly inside me.

Instinctively, my eyelids drooped as I
squirmed in an effort to work him deeper.

He resisted. “Look at me,” he repeated,
refusing to move.

I forced my eyes open and braced my hands on
his shoulders. As soon as my gaze met his once more, he tenderly
pushed his fingers forward, curling them as he went and stroking
the front wall of my sex.

Sensing that the rules of the game meant
he’d stop if I took my focus from him, I continued to watch him.
Finding his lips curling in a smile, I offered a shaky grin in
return.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his fingers questing
deeper still. “You feel so good, Mel.”

Needing more, my trembling hands quickly
descended to his lap and began to unbuckle his belt. Leaving it
loose at his waist, I unfastened his pants and tugged down the
zipper. He grunted in relief as his erection was offered more
space, but it was still firmly held within the confines of his
tight boxer briefs. Reaching between the fabric, I shyly wrapped my
hand around his shaft and gasped at the realization of just how
large he was.

“You okay?” he asked lifting his face and
placing his mouth to mine in a quick but expressive kiss.

“Yes,” I replied, nodding.

Carefully, I eased him free of his underwear
and beheld the sight of him. His circumcised head was pink and
glistening with arousal; the shaft was almost completely straight
with just the slightest curve that, in that position, caused the
bulbous tip to curl toward his belly. It was incredibly thick, at
least eight inches in length, and throbbing with a winding, bulging
vein.

Clasping him, I worked my hand back and
forth, imagining the vastness moving within me. He was considerably
bigger than the men I’d been to bed with and I wasn’t sure if I
could comfortably accommodate him.

However, as his fingers suddenly left me and
both hands grabbed either side of my panties, the need to feel him
was much greater than my trepidation.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he muttered,
before roughly tearing the fabric in his hands and stripping it
away from my body.

Uncaring about my underwear, I lifted my
weight onto my knee and shuffled forward. His manhood still in my
hand, I held him steady, stroking my warm folds over his tip and
stopping when we were aligned.