All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction) (12 page)

After we made love, Connor lay on his back and I nestled against his side, my head on his chest.

“So you knew you loved me when you couldn’t pay me off,” I said.

He chuckled. “I guess so.”

“That’s
sooo
romantic,” I said sarcastically as I poked him in the side.

He laughed, then tickled me in retribution until I shrieked.

After I had quieted down, he said, “At least I realized it.”

“True,” I admitted.

“When did
you
know?”

“Earlier than that.”

“When?”

I blushed, glad that he couldn’t see it. “…on top of the ferris wheel.”

He stroked my hair. “That was an amazing day, wasn’t it?”

I nodded with my eyes closed and smiled. “The best.”

“Actually, I was probably in love with you then, too, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

My eyes flew open. I lifted my head up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Just what I said: I probably knew earlier, I just didn’t want to call it that.”

“Why not?”

He looked intensely uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”

I kept staring at him until he gave in and started talking again.

“I felt like it was a weakness,” he said quietly.

I was surprised how much his words stung.

“That’s just what every girl wants to hear.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Come on, Lily. The last woman I’d been with had betrayed me, I wasn’t with anybody for months after that, and then the first woman I slept with, I fell in love with. Can’t you see where that might be kind of unsettling?”

I lowered my gaze. “Yeah… I guess,” I said grudgingly.

What he said made perfect sense.

But I had just wanted roses and butterflies, and instead I got… reality. It was a little bit of a comedown.

He reached out and stroked my arm. “I knew that I needed you… and that frightened me.”

My heart softened, and I looked up at him. I put my hand softly on his cheek.

He kissed my fingers, then shifted onto his side so that we were face to face, and began to kiss me softly.

My heart fluttered, and I cradled his face with my free hand as he brushed his lips against mine.

I felt the heaviness of his cock, soft but still massive, draped against the curve of my leg.

And then I felt it begin to thicken. I felt it slowly brush against my thigh as it got longer and harder. As Connor’s kisses began to heat up and grow more passionate, I felt his cock push against my body, as though aching to be inside me.

I reached down as I kissed him and stroked him softly, gently, feeling him strain against my hand. He groaned into my mouth as he kissed me, then moved to my neck and began to kiss me there, caressing me with his lips.

His left arm circled underneath my head, and the right hand found my breast and began to touch me, playing with my nipple, circling it, lightly pinching it, just enough to send a shiver of desire down to my thighs.

I moaned and lay there, letting him kiss me wherever he wanted, letting him do whatever he wanted. I slowly moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft, occasionally letting my fingers reach down and cup his balls, massaging them softly, squeezing them ever so lightly. He groaned, and I felt his cock convulse like a bucking horse – and then I went back to stroking it softly, gently, my fingers circling his thickness like a ring of silk, moving from his swollen head down to the base, lightly, slowly, gently.

He moved to my ear and nibbled at the earlobe, licked the outer edge, and breathed softly like a sigh. My whole body arched against his, and I felt the heat of his cock pressing feverishly into my skin.

I wanted him inside me so badly.

I thought he was going to do it when he lifted my leg at the knee, so that my foot remained on the bed and my leg made a triangle. I thought he might slide into me as we lay there sideways, facing each other – but no, he was crueler than that.

His fingers reached down and began to play lightly across my landing strip, tickling me, stoking my fire… and then his fingers drifted lower and began to lightly touch my lips, playing across them, his skin just barely connected to mine by the slick wetness of my juices. He consciously avoided my clit as he stroked the lips of my pussy, even letting the tip of his finger enter me – just a few millimeters, enough to part me and make me groan.

Meanwhile, I could feel that he was getting wet, too. I rubbed my palm over the swollen head of his cock, and I could feel his pre-cum slick against my skin. I used it to wet him down, and began to stroke him with the tiniest bit more friction. Every time I moved my hand up to the head of his cock I circled around it, swirled my wet palm exclusively over the sensitive skin of his head. Finally he gasped, “Too much… it’s too crazy. Too sensitive.”

I smiled and went back to stroking him up and down, slicking him down with his own wetness.

Maybe in retribution for what I did to him, he started in on me. His fingertip, slick and wet, caressed my clit for the first time, no more than a whisper of a touch. I whimpered as he moved down my lips… stroked me, played with me… and then moved up again, circling my clit before he edged away. He would do that over and over: touch me and caress me with the gentlest pressure, then move away, the sweetness and excitement ebbing a little… and then come back, a tiny bit more insistent, a little bit longer, sliding and pressing and caressing my clit in the most erotic way possible… then moving away again, teasing me, never letting me get too high, always building my excitement a little bit more before retreating again.

“Fuck,” I groaned at one point, my head rolling back on the bed with my eyes screwed shut in blissful frustration.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, a grin in his voice, and then he withdrew his hand completely.

Before I could complain, his hand closed over my mine – which was still wrapped around his cock – and I felt him arch out his shaft at an angle and then sloooooowly push his slick, wet head over my clit. The friction made me cry out. Then he pushed his cock inside my pussy, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch, never stopping, just slowly,
slowly
filling me up.

 “Oh God,” I whimpered. I took my hand away as he moved deeper and deeper inside me. I put my wet fingers on his shoulder, clutching him as he filled me up so sweetly and amazingly that I wanted to scream.

He still had his arm underneath me, and it pushed at my back, forcing me onto my side. He kissed me deeply, his tongue just as slow and thick and hot as his cock was as it kept on moving deeper and deeper inside my body.

I circled both my hands around his neck and crushed his lips against mine, moaning and crying out as his thick base filled me up completely, his cock fully inside my pussy. I was almost crying it felt so good.

As we kissed, he began to rock backwards and forwards just the slightest bit – never withdrawing more than an inch, just enough for me to feel him deep inside me, over and over, filling me, making me expand around the thick base of his shaft, letting me feel that thickest part of him between my lips, over and over.

When his body pressed against mine, I could feel his body grind against my clit, too, which sent me into flights of ecstasy – and then he would withdraw, just an inch, then fill me up with a quick, small thrust, touching me deep inside.

He broke off our kiss and pulled back just enough so that our lips were almost touching.

“Do you love me, Lily?”

“Yes,” I moaned, straining forward to kiss him – but he wouldn’t let me. He moved his head back slightly, a smile on his lips as my whole face strained with frustrated desire and brimming ecstasy.

“Do you love me?” he asked as he pulled out further, then thrust into me harder.

I gasped. “Yes – ”

“Do you love me?” he asked as he did it again, pulling out, then thrusting deep, so deep inside me.

“Oh God, yes – ”

He didn’t withdraw this time, he just pressed his cock into me as hard as he could, as deep as he could, as though he were trying to become one with me, grinding his hips against mine, his body or his pelvis or his lower abs or something pressing insistently against my clit, making it explode with pressure, his cock swirling inside me as he rotated his hips. His hand clutched my ass and forced me against him so hard, so good, so hot, so thick and strong and amazing.

“If you love me – ”

“OH GOD YES – ”

“Then come for me,” he whispered in my ear.

“FUCK, OH FUCK,” I screamed, and my fingers were raking down his back and I was biting his skin as I came, over and over, harder and harder, higher and higher, as he grinded against me, swirling his thickness inside me, the pressure mounting and increasing as I came. I clutched at his ass and his cheeks clenched against my fingers and then he was groaning, grunting, moaning, and he pressed inside me so hard as I felt him explode inside me, my orgasm setting him off, both of us coming together, moaning together, me screaming and him crying out, until his contractions began to slowly ebb away, and mine began to abate, and then we just lay like that, clinging to each other. We began to kiss again, softly and sweetly and gentle.

I don’t remember much after that. I think we talked some more, but it gradually descended into semi-coherent murmuring… and then I fell asleep in his arms.

I awoke to the sound of the shower. Somewhere in the muddled fog of my brain, I thought about getting up and going in to join him… but the bed was so soft… and he would be coming out soon…

…so that he could go on
Good Morning America
and talk about the sex scandal.

A shot of adrenaline ripped through me. I jolted up on my elbows, my heart pounding.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…

After the magic of last night, I had forgotten all my pain and problems for a while.

HA haaaa,
as the bully on
The Simpsons
would say. Back to the real world.

I lay back down and tried to breathe.

Everyone was going to know soon. Everywhere across America, people were waking up and seeing
those
photos of me and Connor on the front page of newspapers, or on the internet, or on the television…

I was going to have to call my parents today.

SHIT.

I spent another fifteen minutes in a semi-panic attack until the bathroom door opened and Connor stepped out.

He had turned off the light before he came out, so I could only see the black rectangle of the open door against a slightly less black wall. I couldn’t see him at all, but I could hear him.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice calm and composed.

“Come here,” I whispered.

His shoes whispered along the carpet, and I felt the bed give way as he sat down on the edge next to me.

I reached over and felt for his face. It was freshly shaven, smooth, and still warm from the shower. He smelled clean, like soap and water and steam, with a hint of the cologne he was wearing the first time I had met him: musk and sandalwood, masculine and rich, with the tiniest bit of sweetness underlying it all.

I reached up and kissed him in the darkness. The smell of scotch was gone, replaced by sparkling mint.

Something was off, though.

His kiss was nice… but reserved. He pressed his lips to mine, but little more. There was no heat like usual, and the tenderness from the night before was gone.

I pulled back, puzzled.

“Turn on the light,” I whispered. “I want to see you.”

There was the sound of cloth moving as he stretched out his arm, and then the light beside the bed came on.

He was impossibly handsome, even more beautiful than the first time I’d seen him. The shadows cast by the bedside light set off his features like a Rembrandt painting. Dark, wavy hair, perfectly in place. Strong chin, granite jawline, those cheekbones… the lips, masculine but sensual… the golden brown skin, the crystal blue eyes. And his suit was perfection: charcoal grey pinstripe, crisp white shirt, shimmering blue tie that complemented his eyes.

He looked tired, but there was a determination there, a steely resolve. The warrior’s spirit. I’d seen it in him before, when he was arguing with his family, when he was verbally sparring with Klaus, when he was talking about his plans and dreams for changing the world.

But something was different.

I touched the knot of his tie, the way women do in movies, to straighten it – but it was already impeccable. “You look hot.”

He laughed, and the ‘something different’ was gone, replaced by the old Connor. “Well, that’s good to know.”

Then he settled back into that calmness and repose. He gave me a gentle smile. “I better go.”

He started to move, but I hung onto his arm. “Wait…”

He paused and looked at me, his eyebrows slightly arched, questioning… but otherwise expressionless.

The poker player’s mask.

“…are you okay?” I whispered.

He smiled again. Reassuring, calm… but not quite authentic. “It’s going to be a stressful day. I’m nervous.”

I frowned.

Connor, nervous?

Yeah, right.

Something about the way he said it felt strange.

“Are you… sure that’s all?”

“I’m sure,” he said, and kissed me again. It was gentle and pleasant, but without sensuality. It was a kiss from a man who had been married twenty years. A man who still liked his wife, but hadn’t tried to have sex with her for the last ten months.

Or just someone under incredible strain,
I chided myself.
Cut him some slack.

Or better yet, give him something nice.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, giving him all the tenderness and sweetness I wanted from him.

There was a spark there… but it didn’t feel fully reciprocated. And it didn’t burst into flame.

I broke it off first and looked in his eyes, searching for something.

I didn’t find it.

Suddenly I was very, very frightened.