The Billionaire's Heart: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 0) (6 page)

Samira could barely contain her excitement as Ivan led her by the hand down a corridor towards what looked like an empty secluded conference room. He looked incredible in his suit – so powerful and dominating. She’d been horny all day since they’d parted after he’d met her at college. But she’d managed to resist taking care of herself, and had instead spent her time imagining what the sex was going to be like with him this time… Hopefully she was about to find out…

He tried the door and it swung open, so they walked in and switched on the lights. Samira strode in, feeling sexy in her heels and skimpy dress. She was wearing stockings underneath, and she couldn’t wait to show him.

“This is fun,” she said.

He inspected her, adopting a stern expression. “It was very naughty of you to flirt with my brother like that, making me jealous.”

She smirked and glanced away. “I’m sorry…”

“Huh-uh. Well, now I need to show you that you’re mine. Right?”

“Am I?”

“Yes you are.” He paced around her like a caged tiger, running his dominating gaze all over her. “And now that I’ve got you alone, what shall I do with you?”

Lust coursed through her body. He halted in front of her and kissed her hard, pressing his fit torso and firm cock against her yearning body. “You’re so fucking hot, Samira. I need to feel your tight warm pussy around my cock. Agreed?”

“Ah… agreed…”

He bit her neck and ran his strong hands over her curvy hips and waist. “God, you’re perfect. Now… don’t move an inch; I just need to make sure you can’t escape.”

Samira chuckled, enjoying the game. He grabbed a table and slid it in front of the door, blocking off the exit. She knew it was only there to stop anyone from coming in and catching them, but she loved the thrill of being dominated by this glorious man. He was safe; she trusted him.

He strode back and pulled her against himself, kissing her strongly and easing his tongue into her mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’re gonna forget your own name. I’m gonna possess you with pleasure. You’ll be filled with nothing but me – all your thoughts from now until we leave this room will be only ‘Ivan Quinlan’. Do what I tell you, alright?”

Samira tried not to giggle with desire. She kept a straight face and nodded. “Yes, master.”

He cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “Hmm, I like you calling me that. Say it again.”

She gazed at him with coy eyes. “Yes, master.”

He ran his hand down her thigh and reached around to squeeze her ass. “Tonight you’re mine, Samira. You’ll submit to me, and I will give you everything you came here for.”

She nodded, trying not to buckle at the knees with arousal. No man had ever spoken to her like this – it was amazingly liberating.

He picked her up easily and carried her over to a large table in the corner of the room. Then he plunked her down gently. “Strip for me,” he said. “I need to see you touching yourself.”

“Anything for you, master.” She knelt up and hitched her dress around her thighs, enjoying the sensation of revealing the tops of her stockings. She could see he was impressed as she swayed her hips and slowly drew down the straps of her dress, revealing her amply-filled bra. She thrust out her chest, knowing he was captivated. Then she removed her bra with a flourish and reached up to fondle her breasts, turning herself on, as well as him. 

Ivan stepped forward and caressed her face, gazing at her with smouldering eyes full of passion. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Samira’s heart fluttered at his touch. She ached for him to take her deep. Her voice trembled with desire. “What’s your next instruction?”

“Pleasure yourself,” he said. “My own little porn star – for my eyes only.”

“Yes, master.” Samira raised two fingers to her lips and sucked them theatrically, then she reached down and delved her hand into her silky panties, making a show of rubbing her throbbing clit and dipping her fingers into her wet pussy. She dropped her head back and made horny noises, knowing it would increase the pleasure for him, as it did for her.

“That’s it,” he said, watching. “Get yourself nice and wet for me.” He stepped forward and reached out to run his fingers through her hair, causing it to fall down around her shoulders. She stopped touching herself and swung her legs to wrap around his thighs, pulling him closer. He grabbed a handful of her hair and gently pulled her head back so she was looking up at him. 

“Tell me you want me,” he said, controlling her lust with his sizzling gaze.

“I want you thrusting me hard,” she said. “Until I lose control and I’m completely possessed by Ivan Quinlan.”

“Good.”

Ivan lowered his face down towards her rock-hard nipple and sucked it gently, causing hot lust to surge between her legs.

Samira grabbed a handful of his hair. “I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day.”

Ivan raised his head. “Good, because now I intend to take you hard – to give you absolute pleasure while I take mine. My next instruction: fondle my cock and get me ready for you.”

“Yes, master.” Samira unzipped his trousers and tugged out his huge erection, then she started to pump her hand up and down the shaft. Ivan dropped his head forward and kissed her collarbone, biting her neck and working his way back down to her breasts.

Samira leaned back onto her hands so he could suck her nipples, then he eased two fingers into her panties, and circled them around the outside of her wet pussy. “I need to fuck you.”

“Yes, Ivan…”

She groaned as his long fingers slipped inside her, filling her up and stretching her to receive his wonderful cock. She ground herself against his hand, rubbing her clit on his palm, as he moved his fingers deep inside her, towards euphoria. It felt naughty to be doing this in here – being dominated by him, almost fully-clothed, knowing they could be caught any moment. Samira’s lust caught between her legs, and she suddenly realised she was going to come.

Ivan sensed it too, so he withdrew his fingers and delved in his pocket for a condom.

Samira rolled the rubber down over his cock, then guided him back towards her pussy. He moved her panties aside and eased himself gently inside her. Teasing her and taking it slow.

“Ah, yes…” she whispered, enjoying the thrill of him filling her up.

He thrust his hips gently, pushing his cock further in. “I’m gonna fuck you into ecstasy. You’re mine, Samira, and I need to possess you with pleasure.”

He reached around and grabbed her ass, holding her firmly in place as he rocked her hips back and forth – rubbing her against him. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grinding her hips into him and using him to satisfy herself. He thrust harder into her – pounding her strongly – and suddenly her pussy contracted around him as the orgasm caught. She dropped back her head as wave after wave took her – relishing the pure pleasure that rippled up and down her body, making her groan from another dimension. She was vaguely aware that Ivan was grunting as he thrust deeper and deeper – a guttural noise that made Samira feel like a wild animal. But then reality dropped away and she was taken by sheer ecstasy – no longer able to hear or speak. She grinned as the overwhelming pleasure consumed her, skimming her over a cloud of bliss until she was totally taken by Ivan. Possessed by his pleasure. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, and she heard herself calling his name, begging for more… harder, faster, yes, yes, yes!

Eventually, Samira’s awareness started to float back to reality and she realised that Ivan had stopped thrusting – he must’ve come without her even realising. Her consciousness drifted into the room, so she opened her eyes and focused on the gorgeous man who made her feel so ecstatic. Unable to suppress it, she burst into joyous laughter, and Ivan laughed, too – the tough, dominating act disappearing; replaced with tender affection.

He wrapped her up in his strong arms and kissed her on the top of the head. “You’re awesome, sweetheart. I really mean it.”

“Thank you. You’re pretty cool yourself.”

He gazed at her and stroked her cheek with his long fingers. “How did you get here?”

She frowned. “Taxi. My stupid car’s not working again.”

He laughed tenderly. “I actually meant in a romantic metaphysical sense, like ‘where have you been all my life?’”

Samira chuckled. “Oh right, sorry. Thank you for being romantic!”

“I’m not good at expressing myself with words. But I sure like to show you how much I care, huh?”

“I love the way you care.”

He helped her off the table. “Come on, let’s go back to my hotel and see what happens... Then tomorrow I’ll take a look at your car.”

“Thanks – I’d appreciate that. The ‘seeing what happens’ and the car repairs!”

“Anything for you, babe.”

She grabbed her bra and started to put it back on. “Well,
that’s
an offer I can’t refuse – you’re so good with your hands. I hope to feel them all over my body again and again.”

He zipped up his trousers. “We’ve got all night.”

Samira buttoned her dress. “We have. I just need to freshen up. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Alright. I’d better tell my brothers I’m leaving. I’ll meet you out there in five.” 

Ivan asked the front desk to call a cab, then he made his way back to the bustling room where his brothers were still celebrating their win. Adam was chatting with the blonde he’d met earlier, and Dylan was talking to a couple of suited business associates. Ivan decided it would be better to interrupt Dylan.

He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him out of the conversation. “Hey, you guys don’t mind if I get outta here, do you?”

Dylan raised his voice against the hubbub. “No. You taking Samira somewhere nice?”

Ivan grinned. “Uh-huh.”

Dylan chuckled. “Oh, you just did, right? I thought you looked a little flushed.”

“She sure is one hot woman.”

“She’s great, Ivan, seriously. I can tell you like her a lot, huh? And I think mom would like her, too. She’s strong-willed, beautiful… a little bit kooky.”

“She’s not kooky!”

“She thinks she’s a fortune teller.”

Ivan laughed, feeling his affection swell. “She’s unique. Listen, I’ll see you when I get back to New York, alright.”

“Sure.” They hugged boisterously.

“You take care of yourself,” Ivan said. “And make sure Adam stays outta trouble.”

Dylan shrugged. “I’ll do my best – as always.”

Ivan squeezed him firmly on the shoulder. “Congrats on the award, seriously – you guys are awesome. I’ll be seeing ya.”

Ivan strode away from his brother, already looking forward to getting Samira back in his arms. But his jovial mood disappeared as he stepped into the busy lobby and saw that she was being pestered by a white-coated waiter. The waiter was coming on to her, which was bad enough, but on closer inspection, Ivan realised he was the guy from the beach yesterday.

“Danny, leave me alone,” Samira said. “Why don’t you take no for an answer?”

Danny reached out and tried to grab Samira’s hand. “Because I know what your ‘no’ means, sugar.”

She pushed him away. “Get off me.”

He laughed and reached out to grab her again.

Ivan strode over and grabbed him by the shirt, ready to fight. “
You
again? Didn’t you get the hint that she doesn’t want you anywhere near her? And neither do I.”

Danny smirked at him, apparently more confident than yesterday. “Tell it to someone who cares, loser.”

Ivan let go and realised there was another guy standing with them. He was dressed in a sharp suit and looked like a spoiled brat. He had one brown eye and one green eye, and a grey streak in his jet-black hair, which he probably thought made him look cool.

“Have we got a problem?” the brat asked.

“This guy was hassling me at the beach yesterday, Jeremy,” Danny said. “He threatened me to stay away from Samira.”

Jeremy raised a cool eyebrow. “Oh really. Well, Mr Tough Guy, Danny’s my friend and I’ve just instructed him to tell this young lady that it’s her lucky night – she gets to be the meat in our sandwich.”

“Don’t be disgusting,” Samira said. “Come on, Ivan, let’s go.”

Jeremy held up his hands. “Not so fast. My dad owns this hotel chain. It means I own it and everything in it. He said I can use the free rooms whenever I feel like it. And, lucky lady,
you’ve
caught my eye.”

Jeremy reached out to touch Samira.

Ivan stepped between them. “Leave her the fuck alone, you piece of shit.”

“Make me.”

“Don’t fucking tempt me, asshole.”

“Mind your own business, idiot,” Jeremy said. He turned to face Samira. “Come on, baby, I’ve got some friends in high places who could easily send you back to where you came from. I could make things very tough for you – I could probably get you kicked out of college. So why not just you let me show you a good time? It’s best for everyone.”

Samira faltered. Ivan could see she was scared about being deported. She shot Jeremy a submissive look and Ivan was worried she was about to acquiesce. She reached out and rested her hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and gazed deep into his eyes. Then she leaned forward, as if she intended to beg him not to threaten her education or her life in America. But Ivan’s heart surged with pride as Samira’s expression morphed into contempt. “Listen, idiot, I don’t care who you know or what power you think you might hold over me. I told you where to stick it. And it won’t be in me. Come on, Ivan, let’s just get out of here.”

Samira took a step forward but Jeremy grabbed her, unleashing fury within Ivan – he span Jeremy round and punched him hard. Danny launched himself at Ivan, keen to get his revenge for yesterday, but Samira twisted and kneed him in the balls. He keeled over, letting go of Ivan’s arm as he dropped to the marble floor.

Jeremy recovered from the punch and rubbed his cheek. “You’re dead-meat.”

Ivan glanced up and saw two burly bouncers bounding over to help the boss’s son. They were huge – width
and
height – and they were now on a mission to pay Ivan back for what he’d just done to Jeremy.

Ivan grabbed Samira’s hand. “Let’s go.”

They hurried out of the hotel entrance where the night-time humidity smothered them like a rubber curtain. It was dark out here and unfortunately the taxi hadn’t yet arrived.
Shit
.

Ivan and Samira turned back to face the hotel and saw that Jeremy was jogging down the granite steps with the bouncers – and they were seemingly under his command.

“Get him,” Jeremy said, like an owner releasing the rottweilers.

Ivan stood in front of Samira to protect her as the bouncers approached. He hoped to fend them off until the taxi arrived – surely it shouldn’t be too long – he ought to be able to handle this; it was just another scuffle. Ivan didn’t go out looking for trouble, but a lively childhood of fighting dirty had taught him plenty of tricks. He knew how to flatten people fast; when Ivan got in a fight, it wasn’t to make the other person submit – there was no ego trip involved. His style was ‘punch their lights out and get away unharmed’. It was simple: fight quick, as if your life depended on it. Punch, kick, gouge… if you get them on the ground, keep them on the ground. Hit hard, hit fast…

He rooted his feet to the floor, tucked in his elbows, and lifted his fists up to shoulder height. He intended to let those two artless meatheads come to him – the closer they were, the easier it was to jab an elbow in the nose, a knee in the balls…. Rip off an ear –
that
always stopped a fight pretty damn quick.

He’d brawled with guys like these before – corporate thugs who were technically not supposed to rough you up. But all that pent-up unspent testosterone had to go somewhere. They were like chained dogs, desperate to get in the ring.

The bouncers launched themselves at Ivan to grab him. He managed to land a few jabs on one guy, before the other punched him hard in the stomach, winding him. He forced himself to stand upright – he needed to stay on his feet – but the tank-on-legs slugged him in the face, sending him backwards. He quickly re-centred. Those two blows had pissed him off; he
wasn’t
going to lose this. He pulled back his fist and punched one of the guys hard in the face, making him stumble.

He didn’t want Samira involved in this, but she’d now thrown herself at the other guy, gripping onto his back and wrapping her legs around his waist. He flailed around, trying to throw her off. But Ivan knew how strong those thighs were. He ran to help her and slugged the struggling bouncer hard on the nose. He jolted backwards at the force of Ivan’s blow, knocking Samira off with such power that she crashed down to the ground. Ivan crouched to help her stand.

She grabbed his proffered hand. “Ivan, look out!”

Both thugs grabbed Ivan off-guard and pinned him to the wall. Ivan panted for breath, struggling against them, refusing to let them win. But they were strong and he was tiring.

“Hold him still,” Jeremy called. “I want to make sure this guy knows not to mess with me.”

Jeremy pulled back his fist as the bouncers held Ivan – one on each side. Where were his fucking brothers when he needed them? But Ivan wasn’t going to allow this spoiled brat to punch him. He struggled in their firm grip, kicking his legs wildly so Jeremy couldn’t get close. Ivan glanced around for Samira, and he grinned as he saw her coming up behind with a ceramic plant pot, which she smashed down on the back of one of the bouncer’s heads, causing him to topple like a felled tree. Ivan scrabbled up and punched the other bouncer hard in the face with a crunch of bone against his fist. But the guy was made of tougher stuff than Ivan had hoped – he’d obviously been trained well. He grabbed Ivan by the front of the shirt and pulled back his fist.

“Looks like you’ve won,” Ivan said, bluffing for time.

The bouncer smiled triumphantly. “Looks like it. Surely you didn’t think that we – urgh!”

Ivan’s knee caught him hard in the balls, making him collapse to the ground like a pathetic little boy. He rolled in agony in the fetal position.

Ivan stood over him. “Rule one of street-fighting, buddy. No stupid little speeches. Get in and get out.”

The guard grunted, trying to stifle the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Two down... Ivan glanced around for Samira, and saw that Jeremy had his arms around her from behind and was trying to drag her back inside. She was putting up a good fight, struggling and trying to headbutt him with the back of her head. But she was tiring, too.

“I told you to leave her alone!” Ivan shouted.

Jeremy glanced over and realised that both his bouncers had been floored, so he quickly let go of Samira and held up his hands to try to placate Ivan. “I was just joking, come on, you can take a joke, can’t you?”

Ivan strode over, Terminator-like, and grabbed him by the shirt, then he turned him around and twisted his arm up his back, forcing him to buckle at the knees. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. I don’t care who your daddy is or how much you rate yourself, there’s a rule decent guys follow and it’s called ‘consent’, you got me?”

Jeremy nodded frantically. “I know, I know… let go, you’re hurting me.”

“Yeah, I know I am. This is how
you
make women feel when you try to force yourself on them. See? It’s not nice, is it?”

Jeremy frantically shook his head. “No, no, it’s not.”

Ivan glanced up at Samira who was watching with an impressed smirk.

“You see,” Ivan said. “I get the feeling that you’re the type of sleazebag who thinks the length of a woman’s dress implies something about how much you’re allowed to touch her. But that logic’s no different to saying I couldn’t stop myself from breaking your arm for coming on to my girlfriend. It’s all about self-restraint. Which I’m currently choosing
not
to employ. You see what I’m saying?”

“Yes, yes, I do!”

“Now apologise to Samira and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

Jeremy glanced up. “I’m… I’m sorry!”

Ivan threw him to the ground, where he landed on his knees.

“Come on, sweet lady.” He wrapped his arms around Samira, and they climbed into the waiting cab.

Ivan asked the driver to take them back to his hotel, hoping he didn’t look too much of a mess. But he probably did. His muscles relaxed into the leather seat, waiting for the adrenaline rush to subside. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slow. He realised Samira was staring at him, so he turned his head and smiled into her eyes.

“You okay?” He caressed her face. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No. I can’t believe that guy. Who the hell did he think he was?”

“A fucking asshole.”

Samira rummaged in her purse and pulled out a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding. Here.”

“Thanks, it’s alright.” He dabbed his nose and mopped up the blood.

Samira reached out and squeezed his arm. “Um, you said I was your girlfriend.”

He grinned. “I did. You wanna be?”

She laughed. “I’d love to! At least until you go back to New York.”

“Let’s just enjoy our time together.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, and they chatted about how disrespectful some guys could be. Samira reminded him that she came from Iran and that she’d heard it all before, but he still couldn’t bear for guys to think they could treat her badly. It was one thing playing the dominant guy in the bedroom, or even being assertive in reality. But being an asshole was never acceptable.

When they arrived at his hotel, Ivan realised he looked a disaster. But the well-dressed woman at the reception desk welcomed him back politely, because his platinum credit card spoke louder than his blood-stained face.

He led Samira up to the penthouse where all the best suites were located, feeling as if they could be on their honeymoon. He picked her up with a romantic flourish and carried her into the room, taking care not to bash his bruised ribs. But he needed to feel her against him now and always.

The suite was bright and stylish, with lovely big windows and brand new furniture. The king-sized bed looked welcoming and comfortable.

“Lie down,” she said. “Let nurse Samira tend to your wounds.”