A Forbidden Love (Eligible Billionaires Book 9) (5 page)

Ilana’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Maybe Devon would understand.
Maybe he wouldn’t think that she was nuts or a bad businessperson.

“But not now, and not with his own capital,” he went on. “Not at this point. No, he’d offset the risks.”

“Offset the risks?”

“Right, find someone who needed the investment, someone who needed to show that they’d invested in a company. Big businesses need to do that. Tell me that you at least registered as a nonprofit so that you could get tax-deductible donations? Maybe even sponsorship from a big corporation?”

Ilana bit her lip and stared at the ground. It sounded like there was a whole world of things that she and Amelia could’ve done to support the Center. Now, instead, she’d ruined their chances at ever having a thriving business.

Devon touched her arm. Ilana glanced up, to find him smiling encouragingly at her. “These aren’t big problems. You’ve got a great location with a great business about to open and a ton of people who want to bring their kids here. The rest of it you can still figure out.”

Ilana sighed. Maybe. If she had enough time to figure it out.

“Would you let me…I don’t know…help you with some of the business stuff?”

Ilana couldn’t contain the smile that burst over her face. Would she? “You’d do that?”

Devon nodded, his own grin widening. “I’d love to. This is exactly the type of thing I want to be doing. Businesses that can make a profit and give back to the community. I need to find a sustainable model I can present to my business partners—my brothers. You and the Center are the perfect test case.”

Ilana took a deep breath. Hope flooded through her for the first time since Felicia had delivered the bad news to her at the real estate office. Devon. He could help her, would help her. She might not be a distressed damsel needing to be saved, but she was one who needed help learning how to make her business run. And he was the exact knight in shining armor she’d been wishing for.

“So why Venice?”

“Why not?” Devon pulled the cork from a bottle of Cabernet and poured Ilana a glass of wine. After an evening of working at the Enrichment Center, they’d settled on Thai takeout at his place. He’d insisted that she sit and rest her foot, so he sat down beside her on the couch, put a spring roll onto a plate, and handed it to her.

“Mmm.” She eagerly took the plate with both hands. “Feed me and I’m yours forever.”

He could hope…wait, what? He dipped his own spring roll in peanut sauce and devoured the entire appetizer in two bites.

“So that wasn’t really an answer to my question.” Ilana set her empty plate on the table in front of them. He filled it with Lad Nar.

He’d been hoping to sneak that dodge past her. How much could he tell her? That he’d wandered the world for months before settling in Venice? That he was about as far as he could get both in lifestyle and geography, from his former life? That his family was pressuring him to return to New York? That the catalyst for his travels and his decision to stay in Venice was a horrible trial that involved sex trafficking and prostitution going on without his knowledge in the clubs he and his brothers owned? Not the typical conversation you had on a dinner date with a woman you’d really just met, but this, tonight, Ilana, this wasn’t your typical dinner date, or your typical woman…none of this was typical. The intense interest in her eyes and on her face, in every line of her body language, spoke to Devon at a level he’d never experienced before. His gut told him he had a knowledge of her that he couldn’t explain. He
knew
her. Not that they’d ever met before, of that he was certain, but he had a deep sense she belonged in his life, that they were somehow connected.

To toss her a superficial response, a polite answer that obfuscated the truth, was to disrespect her and what Devon already knew to be true—that he wanted her not just physically, but in a deeper way. And while he couldn’t explain why his feelings for Ilana ran so deep so quickly, he knew them to be honest and genuine. She deserved candor.

“Illegal things happened in our business.” Devon wiped his lips with a napkin and faced Ilana squarely. “Clubs my brothers and I owned. In retrospect, I should’ve been aware of what was going on, but I wasn’t.” He squinted, his eyes losing focus as thoughts and memories of late nights and women and Sergey flew through his mind. How? How had he been so blind to the obvious? “And—” Devon shook his head. “I’m not sure how I didn’t see it. It’s made me doubt myself and my choices. Really, it made me doubt my whole path in life.”

Ilana’s smile slipped from her face as he spoke, replaced with a serious, concerned look. She clasped his hand, gave it a sympathetic squeeze. The warmth never left her eyes.

Thank God.

She could have reacted a million different ways. Horror, shock, fear, disdain, even laughter. Any of them would have been natural, expected, but they would have broken Devon’s heart. He’d just bared an aching piece of his soul, one he was still trying to heal and rebuild. He’d given her the truth on little more than a hunch that she, Ilana, would become a cornerstone in his life. A foundational element to build his Venice existence on.

Her thumb softly caressed the back of his hand. “I…I’m touched that you shared that with me.” Her eyes never left his, a tiny crease between her brows as she scrutinized his face. “We haven’t known each other very long but…I feel close to you.” Her lips twisted in a small, sad smile. “And I know it’s not easy. I guess we all have things that are hard to talk about, right?”

Devon nodded. “This is the first time I’ve really talked about what happened. With anyone. In nearly a year. I couldn’t…didn’t want to. I still have too many questions about myself and the life I was living and how…it just seems negligent now.” He looked down at their clasped hands and frowned. Yes, he’d been busy, and yes, he’d been running a multimillion-dollar division of Travati Financial, and yes, his contact with Sergey had been limited, but yet…he should’ve known. He should’ve asked the right questions. He couldn’t forgive his own failure.

Ilana reached out with her other hand and gently turned his face up so his eyes met hers. Her touch soft, kind. “Hey.” Again the melancholy, understanding smile. “We do the best we can, and when we know better, we do better.”

On their own, the words were weak consolation—Devon couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. But the look in Ilana’s eyes, that look of concern and warmth and genuine belief that Devon would and could do better, gave them power. He might not be able to believe completely in himself yet, but the idea that this woman, this amazing beautiful woman who had put her entire future on the line for a dream to help kids and make life better in her community…somehow just the idea that a woman so extraordinary believed that he could do better was enough. Was more than enough. It was a powerful force inspiring Devon to believe right along with her.

Her ice-blue eyes peered into his, her hand wrapped around his, and she was so close, so near, the scent of her intoxicated him. Devon couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and his lips claimed hers.

Heat coursed through his body. His sex hardened. His heart pounded. It had been the better part of a year since he’d even thought about women—he’d gone from billionaire playboy to celibate since the end of the trial. Shame and remorse had repressed any desire. He’d wanted little more than to travel and be alone and think. No longer. With Ilana’s lips pressed to his, Devon’s deadened desire roared to life. Her lips, soft but firm, met his. His tongue caressed the seam of her lips, and that sweet mouth opened to him.

Every muscle in his body coiled tight with want. Devon turned toward her, his cock straining against the barriers of cloth between them. He buried one hand in her thick, silky hair as his arm circled her shoulders, pulling her close, wanting her closer. A tiny moan crossed her lips.

Fuck.

The soft sound of her desire, of her want, nearly undid him. His kiss deepened in intensity, urgency, but she didn’t shrink away. Yes, yes, yes. His hand left her hair to move across the front of her shirt, fingertips circling the hard outline of one erect nipple.

“Oh Devon,” she gasped. She slid a hand down over his shirt and then to the flesh of his belly.

He pulled back, away from her mouth. His eyes locked to hers. “I want you.”

A smile slipped over her face, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “I want you, too.”

Devon kissed her again and lifted her into his arms. He would have her. He would make her his. He knew in his heart he was meant to tread this path he was on. He would have Ilana in his arms again and again and again.

*

Ilana’s taut nipples thrust against the silk of her bra, as Devon’s lips worked hers with hot, unrestrained want. My God, she wanted this, she wanted him. Devon carried her up the stairs and around the corner to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers.

The soft sound of waves caressing the shore drifted through the open windows. He placed her on his bed and gently lay beside her. She’d craved this moment, wanted this moment, even as its power scared her. Her connection with Devon was a live wire. For the first time she didn’t just want to tell Devon about her life, her entire life, she needed to. Her fingers drifted down the hard muscles beneath his shirt and flattened against the hot silky flesh of his belly. Then she pulled his shirt upward, tearing it from his body. The moonlight outlined his muscles, shadowing the contours, and the desire to feel his skin on hers, his lips hot against her neck, tore through her. Devon slipped her shirt and bra away from one breast, leaned forward, and pulled her nipple into his mouth.

Heat seared through Ilana’s body. Her head tilted back and she sank into the pleasure of Devon’s tongue circling the tight bud. Her hips pressed forward uncontrollably, seeking his hardness.

His tongue stroked her nipple as he sucked. Yes, she wanted this, this bliss with Devon. This heat, this desire, lost in this moment and his touch. With Devon’s deft touch, her shirt and then her bra fell away from her body. One hand caressed her other breast while he continued to torment her nipple with his hot mouth.

Yes. Please yes. But it wasn’t enough. She needed his sex, to grasp and pull and give him pleasure like he gave her. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, one fingertip brushing the head of his cock.

Devon gasped. His belly tightened.

Yes, she wanted to give him pleasure, she needed to hear his pleasure, to see the heat in his eyes. She unbuttoned, unzipped his jeans, pushed the fabric down over his hips. His cock hard and long and thick, erect before her. She grasped the silken flesh, feeling it slide across her palm as she ran her hand down the length of his cock. A strong even stroke.

“Fuck yes,” he gritted out, her nipple sliding from his mouth. She lost her grip as he trailed his lips down her belly, over the curve of her waist, her hip, peeling away her clothes until she lay utterly bare before him.

“Spread your legs.”

Ilana did as Devon commanded. Her knees fell open, her sex wet and ready for him, open and exposed. His gaze locked to hers as she watched him lower his head to her mound.

Tingles shot through her body. She tightened and held her breath. Slowly Devon opened her sex with his fingertips, parting her flesh. Her hips thrust up, seeking the pleasure he offered.

“You’re wet for me,” he whispered. The heat of his breath teased her aroused flesh. She moaned in anticipation.

He ran his tongue, featherlight, over her sex. She bucked upward.

“Please,” she whispered.

Devon’s tongue circled her clit, but left the sensitive, delicate flesh alive with need and untouched desire. His tongue stroked down and pressed deep inside her. Her sex tightened around him. His fingertip massaged her clit.

Ilana’s breath grew short and fast. Her fingers clawed the sheets as Devon grasped her hip, holding her still against the sheets.

“Devon, my God, please!”

He pulled his tongue from her, moving his mouth up to engulf her clit as three fingers slid deep into her sex. His tongue teased her clit as he sucked her deep into his mouth…oh God, his mouth on her sex. Over and around his tongue moved, again and again, pulling her to the edge of orgasm. She dug her fingers into the bed, her hips rolling up and back to meet the pressure of his tongue, sharp desire driving her. Her sex clenched around his fingers and she rode her orgasm over the edge.

*

Watching Ilana come was pure pleasure. Her body writhing and arching. Sweet sounds of desire bursting from her parted lips. Her back arched and her head pressed back against the pillow as her hands clawed him, clawed the sheets. She took the orgasm he gave her.

With one final stroke of his tongue over the slippery bit of aroused flesh, her clit slipped from his mouth. She lay spread-eagle before him, heavy-lidded with satisfied desire. Wet for him. Ready for him. He knelt between her legs, his cock huge and hard and aching for her.

Her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip as her eyes ran down his body. Her post-orgasm look only excited him more. A tight tingle started low in his back. His balls already drew up close to his body. He didn’t have much left. Good thing he’d gotten her off first, because he’d be finished quickly.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

Yes. He put a hand on either side of her and leaned forward, sucking her bottom lip between his and giving her a gentle nip. Her hips thrust upward and her wet pussy pressed against the head of his cock.

Fuck yes.

Every muscle in his body turned to stone. One thrust? Maybe two? Fuck, this woman undid him. Made him need to come. His cock pressed gently into the tight muscles of her sex.

Hot. Wet. Fuck yes. For him.

His nostrils flared. The scent of her arousal on his mouth, the taste of her on his lips. He thrust in slowly and her legs wrapped around his waist. He looked down at her face. Yes, those eyes, those eyes were the eyes he was meant to look into for the rest of his fucking life.