Billionaires in Paris: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (9 page)

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His knee parts my legs. Ian hovers above me, that sandalwood cologne stronger than the taste of his cock I still have in my mouth. “Do you want to look into my eyes as we make love?”

I nod.

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.” The black tie encircles my face, covering my eyes. The purple one tickles the corner of my mouth. I don’t say anything. I wouldn’t want him to think that I don’t like this.

Although I can’t see him, I can certainly feel him. Ian squeezes my breasts, coaxing the lingerie cups down until my nipples and mounds spill from them. His tongue lashes against my nipple, and I can’t help it – I’m writhing, responding to how he sucks, licks, and nips with his teeth. He must like the way I squeal.

Ian asks if I remember my safe word. After I confirm, he says, “I’m going to devour you.”

My thong rips away. His finger ascends my slit, not only rubbing against my clit, but teasing my entrance as well. Fuck! One moment his clothing taunts my skin, and the next it’s only his skin that I feel. Sometimes I hear him taking his clothes off. Sometimes I’m shocked to feel what I do.

It’s all of him coming for all of me. I barely have time to register it before the head of his cock is coming for me.

Restraint isn’t about thrills. It’s not about turning him on, although that’s an excellent side-effect. It helps me let go and simply enjoy sex for what it is. I don’t have to worry about touching him enough. I don’t have to concern myself with what goes where and how I do it. I’m the passive one here. Everything’s being done to
me.
Some would say that’s boring. To be sure, I used to think the same way. Now I know. How liberating it is.

His strength always takes me by surprise. No man has ever thrust into me like Ian does. You would think we were made to fit together, like two pieces of a complicated puzzle. It’s not always easy. It’s not always meant to be. But it always feels so good once it happens.

The sounds I make are wild and needy. More, more, give me more! Don’t stop! Do it harder, faster! Kiss me, bite me, grope me until my flesh is covered in bruises! His cock is already swelling as it surges into me, pounding me right in my core over and over, dragging me to the brink of orgasm and then refusing to let me have it. I don’t care. I know I’ll have it eventually. Ian always delivers on his promises, and he’s promised me the pleasure I so desperately want.

My hips rock back. My ass tilts into the air. My blindfold slips down far enough for me to see the sweat on Ian’s forehead and the part of his lips as he exhales every groan.

I want to come, but he hasn’t given me permission. If I come too soon, I won’t get what I really want.

Two years ago I would’ve smacked you if you even suggested that I would love to have a man come inside of me. That was before Ian, of course. Since then I’ve changed my stance considerably.

“Please let me come,” I whine, voice trembling from the movements and my needs. “Please, sir!”

His thrusts slow, but do not stop. A hand covers my mouth. With him lodged deep inside, Ian says, “You get to come if you tell me what you are.”

The hand moves. “I’m yours,” I immediately say. “Do whatever you want to me!”

“Is this what you want? For me to fuck you?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to come in you?”

“
Yes!
”

“Do you want me half as much as I want you?”

I gasp, almost mishearing him. Every part of me is trembling. He’s so swollen that it’s a miracle he can move inside of me at all. “Yes,” I whimper. “I love you!”

His mouth slams against mine. Ian is everywhere at once. Fucking me, kissing me, squeezing my body as if it’s his most precious thing. In a split instant I experience the most blessed epiphany I can have as a sub. It comes right before I climax, when Ian is thrusting oh so hard into me, his every inch filling me.

I’m yours. Nothing else matters, because I belong to you. The world could end right now, and I wouldn’t care… because we have this moment, and I’m so damn happy.

My orgasm has arrived. I’m falling off the bed, off a cliff, off the edge of the earth and into an abyss that means everything and nothing at the same time. My heart withers and blooms again. My soul is rejuvenated. My stupid brain alights in pure ecstasy. It’s finally happened. We’re
one.
Even so, my body was meant to do one thing to him.

“
Fuck!
” Ian finally succumbs to everything he’s been holding back. “Katie!”

He cradles me with one arm and unleashes the voice of his orgasm right into the crook of my neck. His relief spills into me, not once, not twice, but three times, each wave thicker than the last. What was once so foreign to me is now one of my most cherished moments during sex with my Dom and boyfriend. I know he agrees, because even after he lets me drop back to the bed, he’s slowly thrusting in and out of me as he softens.

I’m still treading the abyss as he unties me and pulls off my blindfold. I’m so thankful for this subspace bullshit. I know it won’t last, but right now I feel so
owned
that having him wrap his arms around me and kiss me is a wonderful cherry on my sundae.

“I love you,” Ian says again and again. “I want to make you so happy.”

He says more romantic things as he explores the pinnacle of our union. Fingers dipping into me, forcing me to expel his seed on his hand and all over my thighs. It’s a sweet rush that forces me to acknowledge that I’m claimed by this man.

I’m sucking the fingers that taste like
us
when he asks, “Do I make you happy? Does this make you happy?”

My tongue pushes between his fingers, tasting both my essence and his. How could his not make me happy? I’m greedily licking up our wetness, for fuck’s sake! If he doesn’t watch it, I’m coming for his cock next!

“I’m happy,” I mutter. His arm holds me close to his chest, my nose nuzzling his collarbone. “I’ll be even happier if you let me spoil you now, sir.”

“Is that so?” He almost sounds intrigued.

My brain and body agree that I should spend the rest of the night kissing every inch of his body, tasting myself, him, and the love we created together. Rub his tired muscles. Let him see my curves again. Purr against his skin and into his mouth. Then I’ll coax him erect again, this time finishing the job in my mouth as he lets out a sound I’ve never heard him make before.

I only want to serve him. That is my happiness for the rest of the night.

Chapter 9

KATHRYN

It’s the perfect kind of morning. I’m falling in and out of sleep as the sun shines through our hotel room windows. The Eiffel Tower twinkles in the same sunlight, greeting me every time I open my eyes. Before I turn toward my boyfriend, anyway, who is fast asleep on the other side of the bed and lightly snoring. Enough to be cute, but not enough to drive me to insanity.

My body is relaxed and my mind calm. This is usually how I feel the day after an intense scene. There are still worries swimming in my brain, but what’s the point of thinking about them when I still have this lovely moment? I don’t really remember what happened after a certain point last night, but somehow I ended up in the shower and brushing my teeth. It’s all a great blur of being in Ian’s arms and experiencing him dressing me in one of his soft cotton T-shirts. He’s wearing one too. There’s no stopping me from curling up next to him and pretending that this moment is going to last
forever.

The most obnoxious ringtone in the universe pounds in my head. My eyes flutter open, hand on forehead and Ian stirring beneath me. He grumbles at me to deal with my phone.

I know why I’m avoiding it. Doesn’t have to do with the fact it’s seven in the morning and I’m on vacation. Or that I’m still reveling in my sexual high from last night. No, it has to do with knowing whose ringtone that is. There are a few people in my life who have their own ringtones so I know exactly who is calling long before I pick up my phone. Ian, of course. Then my father.
Then
my assistant Anita. Ian’s mother Caroline is on the short list as well.

Then there’s Eva, my best friend, and also biggest pain in my ass when Ian is being an angel.

“What. The. Fuck.” I sound like I smoke fifty packs of cigarettes a day. “Do you know what time it is here? This had better be good.”

“I can do math, thanks.” Eva, likewise, sounds groggy enough to smoke some cigarettes too. It’s late at night back home and she’s finishing up grad school. She’s going to sound like hell come midnight. “Plus, I’m the last person
you
should be grilling. Guess what, buttercup, I called up to grill you! How the fuck am I the last person on this planet to know that you’re engaged?”

I’m awake now. Damn fucking
hell
am I awake!

“We had a pact, Kathryn! The moment you get engaged or elope in Vegas again, I’m the first to know. Not half of New England as of seven this evening.”

“What are you talking about?” The covers fly back on the bed. Of course I’m not wearing underwear. Why would I be wearing anything but my boyfriend’s shirt? I love it when cold morning air smacks my pussy raw. Not to mention this cold as ice floor and my bare feet. Great. Where are my dang socks?

Eva makes a terrifying sound back in America. “Are you not up yet? Am I the first person to call you? How has your father not blown up your phone? I know you didn’t tell him before telling me!”

“Damnit, Eva!” I look around the room for something to check the internet on. Where the fuck is my tablet? Did Ian bring his netbook? Wait, right, Ian. He’s got a phone around here somewhere…

Got it. With my phone plastered to my ear, I punch in the unlock code to Ian’s phone (he thinks I don’t know it?) and bring up the internet. He was last looking at some website about replicating his cat into a statue… God, I don’t even know what’s going on right now.

“What am I looking for?” I ask.

“You mean you’re not engaged?”

“Why the fuck would I be engaged!”

Ian picks up my pillow and slams it against his head. Whoops. Need to turn the decibels down a notch. “The news ‘broke’ on
The Daily Social
blog. You got papped, Kathryn. Big time.”

I hate the fact the website comes up so easily in Ian’s Google account. This means he’s looking at that site a lot… but I’ll have to unpack that later, because right now I’m too busy going to the Local Celebrity News section of this fuck-breathing website and seeing pictures of Ian and me on our date yesterday.

“Where are you getting that I’m engaged?”

“Scroll down.”

My thumb goes through half a mile of scrolling, bypassing creepy shots of me kissing my boyfriend and coming in and out of Parisian shops… including the lingerie boutique.
“How sweet! Prince Charming Ian Mathers carries girlfriend Kathryn Alison’s bags while enjoying a romantic day in the City of Love. Sign of things to come?”

I scroll

It’s me. Just me. Coming out of the restaurant I met my mother at last night.

With a big, fat, juicy ring on my left ring finger.

It’s my grandmother’s engagement ring. Some snoops at
The Daily Social
have already crosschecked it with old photos of my grandmother at her engagement party nearly fifty years ago. There’s a picture of my mother coming out too.
“Kathryn Alison sports her grandmother’s engagement ring on a very symbolic finger. Her estranged mother was spotted coming out only fifteen minutes before. Passing on a family heirloom? We’ll be the first to publish the confirmed engagement as soon as we have it!”

“What the fuck is this shit!”

Ian sits up in our bed, eyelids heavy and hair in complete disarray. Eva laughs in the background of my phone. “Congratulations on your engagement? Sorry I’m the one who had to break it to you. What are you doing wearing your grandmother’s ring, though?”

I had been so upset about my mother that I forgot to take that ring off until I got back to this room. How was I supposed to know that I would be papped and the picture used as “proof” of my supposed engagement to Ian? “I’ll call you back, Eva. For the record, I am
not
getting married anytime soon. We’re not engaged. I had dinner with my mother last night and she gave me that ring with no warning.”

“Have fun cleaning that up.”

I shut off my phone and turn to Ian, who is rubbing his face and looking at me with the dullest eyes. Under normal circumstances he would ask me to come back to bed, but he can tell that these are not normal circumstances. “Dare I ask?” he grumbles.

My anger must be palpable. By now, though, Ian is used to me having conniption and anxiety attacks over the seemingly smallest things. I’ve screamed bloody murder in his condo no less than a dozen times by now. (Don’t think I’m proud of this, by the way. I’m working on it. I swear.) “
The Daily Social
is reporting that we’re engaged.”

“Whaaaat?”

I bring him his phone. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ian takes a good look at the pictures of us and reads the captions. “It’s speculation.” His phone lands in his lap. “Nobody could possibly think we’re…”