Billionaire Romance: Club Billionaire (The Complete Series) (8 page)

“
Then why is he?” I ask quickly.

“
Because his father is one of the richest men in the
world.”

I shake my head, trying to sift through the super
billionaires that I've seen on the news or read about online.

Kyle seems to read my expression.

“
You wouldn't know of him I doubt. He's called Oliver
Turner. He's a weapons manufacturer. In recent years the US military
has used him for several massive contracts. It's sent their wealth
spiraling out of control.”

“
So he's richer than you then?” I say, the lightest
smirk of impudence creeping across my face.

It gets a brief rise out of him, a half smile that
doesn't last too long. “Many times richer. But Bradley Turner has
earned none of it. He's just a stupid kid with nothing to do but play
with his dick and pick the wings off flies...”

“
So I'm a fly now?”

“
To him, you are.”

“
And to you?”

Suddenly I can feel my heart starting to swell once
more. That familiar feeling of need, of desire wrapping itself around
me. The dry areas of my body are beginning to moisten at the mere
sound of his voice, the curve of his lips as he speaks, the cadence
of his diction.

“
I see people as people. As individuals, all with
their imperfections and frailties, as well as their strengths
and...assets. We're all different, Belle. I don't look down on
someone because they haven't been given the best start in life. Or
because circumstances out of their control forced them down a certain
path.”

“
Like my path?”

“
Exactly. I'd never judge you for who you are, or what
you've done or do. We all have our reasons for doing what we do, for
becoming who we are. There are a million influences on our lives,
making each person unique, like a snowflake. I'm not one to cast
judgment, Belle.”

He moves toward me, sits down next to me on the bed.

“
I don't want you sleeping with anyone down here,”
he repeats as before.

He lifts a hand, brushes it gently across my face,
pushing the hair from my eyes.

“
Anyone but me.”

Then he leans forward, drapes his lips lightly over
mine, and pulls back.

“
You really are perfect, just as you are.”

With that, he climbs back to his feet and makes his way
toward the door.

Leaving me longing for his touch, his scent, his warmth.

Leaving a hole inside me that now, after only a few
passing minutes between us, he can fill. 

Chapter One

Have you ever had a lust for someone that makes your
body physically ache?

The sort of ache that's there with you constantly. That
you go to sleep with, wake up with, eat your breakfast with and go to
church with. The sort that makes you feel awkward because you're
thinking about sex in the holiest of places. That makes you
forgetful, like you're always in a daydream, like there's nothing
else in the world but that need that lives deep down in your body.

Until now, such a feeling has been alien to me. Lust was
a word that I heard people talk about, but never truly understood. I
did little more than fancy guys, maybe fall for them on some level,
but never truly give myself to them. Never be truly entranced by
them, hypnotized by them.

Now, that's all changed.

Now, I understand the word at its deepest level. I know
everything there is to know about it. Hell, I could write a fucking
thesis on it if you asked me to.

Kyle
.

It's all about Kyle.

Billionaire, beautiful, brilliant. Three words that sum
up the man in a nutshell. A man who's taken his life and forged it
into something everlasting, something that mere mortals could never
hope to achieve. A man who's redefined the meaning of the word
desire. A man who lives in my head always, who haunts my waking
dreams and completely consumes my thoughts.

I have given myself to Kyle. I did it because he wanted
me to, because I wanted to. In his eyes I see that same lust, that
same reflection of a carnal need to explore each other from top to
toe.

And now, each day, I pray for my return to Club
Billionaire. Pray for the day to speed up so that I can see him
again, if only across the room. Pray that he'll be there, that he'll
find me in the stockroom and lay his hands on me. That the fantasy
will engulf me once more and I'll lose myself to his lips, his
fingers, his electric touch.

It's been three weeks now since Kyle saved me from the
clutches of Bradley Turner. Since he diverted me from a path I wasn't
willing to tread. Like a single wrong step, or wrong turn, I might
have found myself moving into a completely different life, a
different world.

If I'd have fucked Brad, then where would it stop? He'd
have kept coming back for more. He'd probably have told his friends
about me, sent them in to have a go. The floodgates will have opened,
and there would have been no way to hold back the storm.

But Kyle saved me, and now I belong to him.

I go to the club that night, and when I see him my heart
soars. Always impeccably dressed. So smart he'd make Stephen Hawking
jealous. Standing upright, perfect posture like he's cut from stone.
And underneath, that Greek God body, rippling with muscle, his
condition perfect.

He catches eyes with me across the room, and I see his
composure lost for a split second. Down here, our relationship is
being kept secret. Our sex sessions hidden behind closed doors; in
stock rooms, in the brothel when everyone else has left. He keeps me
hidden, not through embarrassment, but because he wants to keep me
safe. Keep me to himself, away from the vultures. The spoils are his,
and his alone.

Isabelle, the innocent looking girl who caught us in the
stock room several week ago, has been told to keep things quiet, to
keep our secret to herself. It wasn't me who ordered it, but Kyle,
his word the law, unbreakable. As far as I can tell, so far she's
been true to her word.

Yet still, eyes linger here and there. Alice knows
something, that's become clear to me. But she's not the person to
worry about.

That honor belongs to Brad. Brad the spoiled brat
billionaire who looks down on nearly everyone. Brad, the son of one
of the wealthiest men in the world, the boy with the surfer looks but
the heart of a sadist. He's the sort of boy who can do anything and
get away with. The worst sort of snake in the grass. Deadly,
dangerous, and completely untouchable.

His eyes linger too. They notice the little looks
between Kyle and me. The slightly brighter smile I offer him when
delivering drinks. The touches, so subtle you'd have to look for
them, that are a window to the truth.

Yet still, I don't care. I care about little expect him.
His taste, his touch, his smell. Everything about him puts my body on
edge, primed to devour him at a moment's notice.

Tonight, I see that look in his eye. I see it when I
deliver drinks to his table. Sometimes it's not there, overtaken by a
serious business discussion or some other important matter on his
mind. But tonight it's there. A forest fire behind his eyes. A
burning desire for me. The look itself is enough to make me grow wet,
to shorten my breath and quicken my pulse.

Tonight, I know, I'll have him inside me.

It's quiet when Kyle comes to me, stepping into the bar
room. I'm there alone, tidying the place up as the club winds down
for the night. He scans the area quickly, making sure we're alone,
before darting forward and kissing me deep. He pulls back just as
quickly, quickly regaining his composure.

“
Stock room?” I ask, a glint in my eye. There's
something about that room that makes me super horny. Perhaps the
memories of when he first went down on me, when I first sucked him
off. Or maybe it's the secret nature of it all. The forbidden sex,
hidden from the world.

He shakes his head.

“
Not tonight.”

His words send my heart shrinking.

He smiles. “Grab your coat, and leave in five minutes.
Make sure you enter the elevator alone. I'll meet you on the ground
floor.”

My shrinking heart stops in its tracks and quickly
begins to bloom.

“
OK,” I say hurriedly, wondering what he's got in
mind.

He leaves the room and I check my watch. Kyle is a man
of timing, the sort of guy who sticks to the clock. When he says five
minutes, he means five minutes.

When the time comes, I step out into the main social
chamber and move toward the door. Alice is there, talking with the
last few clients yet to leave. Thankfully, Brad and his cronies
departed some time ago. This place, as exclusive as it is, isn't
always the best place for a night out for young men of wealth and
power.

I reach the elevator, step inside, and am quickly at the
ground floor. As the door pings open, Kyle steps in without a
second's delay.

“
What are you doing...?”

Kyle hits the button marked R, and the elevator quickly
zooms upwards. It's the first time I've been anywhere other than the
basement floor where the club is hosted.

Within a few seconds, the doors are sliding open, and
Kyle is leading me out onto the roof. The night shines above with a
thousand celestial lights, the sky dotted with stars that seem
brighter than ever before.

A chill runs through the air, but next to Kyle, I'm not
cold. His arms wrap around me, enclosing me in his blanket, and he
kisses me passionately.

“
Here, we can be alone,” he says.

I dance my eyes around us, and see a glass conservatory.
Kyle leads me inside, and immediately I'm hit by a comfortable
warmth. Beautiful luxurious sofas are spread out within, surrounding
a glass coffee table. To one side is a bar, fully stocked with
drinks.

“
We come up here in summer, sometimes,” Kyle says.
“To smoke, discuss business. Maybe even have a barbecue.”

Somehow the idea of billionaires gathered on a roof
having a barbecue seems ridiculous to me. I suppose they just seem
above that sort of thing, although I don't know why.

Kyle leads me in, and we drop onto a sofa. Beyond the
glass walls I see the dark silhouette of Central Park looming, hear
the distant rumble of cars passing along 5
^th
Avenue below.

He kisses me again, more passionately this time. His
hands rise up my face, brush my hair away, run down my back. He pulls
off my coat, and I slip out of it, letting it fall onto the sofa
behind me.

Gently, bit my bit, he strips me off. Soon I'm lying
there in nothing but my skin, draping myself back over the sofa, Kyle
looming over me like a big cat about to spring forward.

He drops, his head plunging between my legs, his tongue
massaging my clit. Fingers reach my pussy, slip inside me, probe and
glide in and out until an orgasm threatens to explode from me. He
stops, teasing, and stands, before carefully unveiling himself.

I squeeze my thighs tight as I watch, slide my hand down
past my navel, masturbate to the show. The sight of me lying nude
with my fingers exploring my pussy gives him pleasure. His eyes fire
up, his clothes comes off quicker.

He's in nothing but his underwear now. He drops them
down, showing everything he's got. His cock looks hard, ready,
delicious. I grow wetter at the sight.

He takes over from me again, climbing on top of me and
replacing my fingers with his. I reach down, grip his dick, tug as he
likes it.

He kisses me again, and I close my eyes. I feel my legs
widening, his body positioning itself over me. Then his dick replaces
his fingers, the tip sliding through my lips, gently moving further
into the warm, wet, darkness.

He fills me up. All of me. And we're locked together as
one. A sharp dagger of pleasure stabs through me, the sensation
sending my eyes fluttering, my limbs tensing. I reach around and grip
at his ass, muscled and strong, as it pumps up and down. Gently at
first, then faster, harder, more forceful.

We swap positions, and I roll him over onto his back. He
smiles sexily as I take control and straddle him, his cock never
leaving me. The sensation is different, the angle more intense. I
gyrate, my tits bouncing, his fingers reaching for my nipples, hard
from pleasure and the hint of cold.

We fuck for an hour, stopping and starting. Licking,
kissing, touching, probing with all parts of our bodies. We change
positions like a dance troupe, our sex a ballet of swinging dicks and
ravenous cunts. I devour him like it's my last meal, my last night on
this earth, losing all sense of time.

When he comes, the force is so hard I feel it filling me
up inside. He builds to a crescendo, emptying himself of fluids, his
eyes flickering and mouth gaping as he orgasms.

But I got the lucky end of the stick. He'd already
brought me to climax twice.

When we're done, we lock ourselves in each others' arms,
and I wish, under the lights of heaven, that it could be more. That
this relationship of ours could be more than just sex. His tender
embrace tells me there's feeling there, but my logical mind, when not
clouded by his presence, tells me the opposite. That a man like Kyle
could never want more than sex with a girl like me. That whatever
this is will end, perhaps soon, and I'll never have a God between my
thighs again.