“Now you are leaving the first chance you get, but you need to give me just one fucking chance!” Constantijin shouted the last word as he gazed up at me in agony. “Just don’t leave. Anything you want, even if you want to have a fucking boyfriend and I’m the man you date on the side---”
That he would say something like it, promising something that was almost like what his father had to go through when Marge wasn’t herself --- it sent me to my knees, too. “Constantijin, no,” I whispered.
He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Yes,” he said brokenly. “If that’s what it takes to keep you with me. I love you that much.”
I didn’t need to hear him say those words. I already knew it the moment George made me open my eyes to the truth. But when I did hear him say it, my world - which had been revolving in an uneven degree for quite some time – found its rightful place back.
Everything became clear. The right path - the yellow brick road everyone was looking for - showed up like a street of gleaming gold and it led directly to Constantijin.
My life was with Constantijin,
my
very own billionaire, the man who could hurt me a billion ways but could love me in a billion ways more.
No matter what happened, I loved him and I was going to be happy with him, unhappy without him.
I felt more than saw his hands trembling as they went to stroke my hair. "Please Yanna, please don't cry."
After a while, I finally managed to control my tears. I leaned back and smiled at him tremulously. "I wasn't going to leave."
He looked like he thought I was demented but too afraid to show it. "So what are the suitcases for?"
I choked back a teary giggle. I tried to pull away, but it only made him pull me into his arms, his lips touching my hair, kissing my forehead, erasing the trail of tears on my cheeks. "Stay a second more, Yanna," he said gruffly. "Please. I missed this."
But I stubbornly pulled away. I almost felt guilty at the look of devastation in Constantijin's eyes but he had to let me go, just for now. I needed him to see me clearly when I told him the truth.
“Constantijin, I was not leaving. I was moving back in with you.”
It took him several moments to react.
His face became grim. “So the things I did,” he said slowly.
“Yeah,” I said with a wobbly smile.
“The whole desperate, emasculating act---”
I winced, but I couldn’t stop smiling shakily. “Yeah.”
His Dutch accent very strong, he said, “There was no need for it at all?”
“Sorry, but yeah.”
Constantijin was silent for a long time. I started to lean back, wary of the possibility he’d freak out on me, when he spoke. “It’s fine.”
“It…is?”
The softest and loveliest smile touched his lips. “I still mean every word.”
Unable to help it anymore, I threw myself in his arms, causing Constantijin to lose his balance. His laughter and my giggles mingled in the hallway as he fell to the floor, grunting when I landed on top of him heavily.
He looked up at me, the uncertainty in his gaze making me cry harder. Alyx would kill me when she found out how much I cried in the past half hour but right now – it didn’t matter what she’d think, what anyone would think. I almost lost the one man I was destined to love in my entire life. And now I had him back. I was so, like, going to cry a billion buckets if that meant I’d have Constantijin forever.
His body tense under me, he said hoarsely, “Does this mean you forgive me?"
A nod was all I could manage, the tears rending me speechless.
"And that---" His voice was uneven, as if he was unsure of believing what he was hearing. "You're coming back. Is that it, Yanna?"
Shit.
Bracing my hands on his chest, I pulled myself up as fear struck my heart. “Are you
panicking
again? You've begged me to come back and now that I did, are you panicking again and regretting what you asked me to?" Oh God, if I was right, I was, like, going to die – but not if I didn’t kill him first.
Constantijin’s silvery eyes blinked, and then he was laughingly hauling me back down to him, one hand gripping my hair in a familiar way that brought more tears to my already aching and tired eyes. He pulled me down for a kiss that wasn’t sexy at all, not with my tears making the taste of my lips salty. But he was kissing me like a starving man, and the promise his lips made my toes curl all the same.
Woozy
did not even cover how I felt when he finally released me.
“Yanna, I love you.”
“That’s sweet, Constantijin, but that’s not what I want to hear right now.”
He raised a brow.
“Promise me you won’t have stupid panic attacks again.”
Constantijin laughed.
I tugged his hair. “I mean it.” I tried not to return his crazy happy grin, the kind I knew I used to have all the time in the past. But it was impossible. He was as irresistible as ever.
He reached up to kiss my nose. “I promise.”
God, Constantijin Kastein – the sexiest man alive in the world – was feeling so in love he had to kiss…my nose. It was so adorable I had to kiss his back. Then I tested the waters and asked, “Cross your heart?”
“Cross my heart.”
I giggled. “Pinky swear?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yanna, I love you more than anything else in this world but do not push it.”
Epilogue
How (Not) to be Seduced by Billionaires…
And How to Make Them Fall in Love Instead
There is no lesson, no key to your billionaire’s heart, no cage to keep him yours.
You just love him.
One Month Later
“How long are you going to punish me?” Constantijin demanded from the opposite side of the table, which right now wasn’t the far end. He was just seated across me, close enough for me to have my feet propped on his leg under the table. I was in no mood to have another shouted exchange. The last time we did that had us popping lozenges like ecstasy pills the next day.
Shared laughter from his parents spilled out of the iPad screen, and Constantijin looked at them with a scowl. “And you two are really enjoying this.”
It was the first night of our honeymoon – even though we weren’t even engaged. Both of us knew we were going there, so we thought it wouldn’t matter if we had the honeymoon first. Well, okay, it was just a private vacation. But I preferred the tone ‘honeymoon’ over Constantijin’s ‘fuck week’. I mean,
really
?
Fuck week?
Daria had been so happy that Constantijin and I were back together she and Nik booked us a week-long stay for the presidential suite of The Raj Palace Hotel. It had four floors, a terrace with stupendous views of Jaipur, and the most glorious pool. But the best thing about it was that it even had its own freaking museum.
The moonlight shone behind us, reflected by the ornately designed surface of the vast table Constantijin requested management to move outdoors from the dining area.
“But you do look so adorable when someone’s forcing you to eat what you don’t want,” Marge admitted with a chuckle.
Taking my feet off his lap, I stood up so I could bend over and feed him another spoonful of Hunt’s pork and beans – the ultimate classic example of canned food.
“Poor baby,” I said with mock sympathy even as I fed him the last spoonful from the bowl. “See? You ate it all. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
He didn’t say anything, but his silver eyes shot enough sparks to speak volumes. Then he smiled. “Now, sweetheart, I don’t think it’s fair I'm the only one being fed. I think it’s your turn.”
I blinked. “R-really?” That was awfully nice of him.
“Oh, yes, starting with my cock---”
I sent the iPad flying, all the way to the pool. “Constantijin!” God, his parents were probably drowning in laughter now.
“But I meant it.” And then he started after me, the look in his eyes causing me to scramble out of my chair. I tried to run after his reach, but laughter slowed me down, and he easily caught up to me.
“Constantijin!” I shrieked when he actually slung me over his shoulder and ran all the way up to the palatial bedroom that was ours for seven wonderfully long nights.
He threw me on the bed. I flipped around, intending to escape, but I sort of froze instead when I saw Constantijin slowly stripping his clothes off.
White unbuttoned polo, shrugged out of the way and discarded on the floor, leaving his sleek hard chest naked.
My throat went dry.
His khaki pants went off next, leaving him in his briefs. He was sex on legs, perfect in every way I could only thank my lucky stars he had been a smart twenty-one year old when he refused to be Calvin Klein’s underwear model. God, if he had – I would totally have to be sharing
this –
all of this – with innumerable women and that would have been hell.
The briefs were gone now, and seeing him stroke himself with sensual leisure made me forget all about escaping. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to feed me his cock. I wanted all of him.
“Do you want this, Yanna?”
I bit my lip.
Smiling wickedly, “You know how this will go, Yanna. You have to say the words.” He gave his cock a longer, firmer stroke. “Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I choked out. “I want it.”
“Then I’ll feed it to you.”
My heartbeat sped up as he came nearer and nearer and I couldn’t stop myself from whimpering when the bed finally dipped as he rested his weight on one knee then another.
“Ah!” A little scream escaped me as he suddenly pushed me on my back and splaying my legs wide open so he could stare at my sex up close.
“But before I feed you---”
I almost shot out of the bed when he exhaled, the air coming out of his mouth a caress that made me close my eyes in the exquisiteness of it.
“I have to ready you first.”
And then he was licking me, sucking on my clit, tongue thrusting in and out of my sex. A part of me wanted to throw him off, to give me a reprieve from the dizzyingly heated sensations that coiled around my body and electrifying every inch of it.
But the other part of me was greedy and wanton, making me moan as I clutched his head and push it down. I wanted him to kiss me harder, to lick me faster, to---
“Constantijin!” My orgasm took me by surprise as he clamped my clit between his teeth with gentle pressure.
As my body shook with the tremors of my release, I was barely aware of his hands moving to encircle my waist. And then he had me flipped on my stomach, and Constantijin stroking my folds. The movement was slow and gentle, but it went back further and further until I realized what he was about to do.