Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (9 page)

There's a note on it:
help yourself, the drive will
take a while.

So I indulge myself and sit back, enjoying the luxury
ride and watching as the world passes by outside my door, bathed in
the orange glow of the setting sun. the journey takes a little under
45 minutes, taking me to a dock in the south of Manhattan where a
helicopter sits waiting on a helipad.

Inside, Gray sits with a cigar in his mouth and a glass
of champagne in his hand, smiling at me as I exit the car.

He steps out, and paces forward, dressed in a delicious
shirt and pant combo that accentuates the power of his physique. He
leans in for a kiss and passes me the glass of champagne.

“
For you, my dear.”

I take the champagne, feeling like a princess, and can't
help the giggle from escaping my lips. Then we approach the
helicopter, and I notice the name of Gray's family business
emblazoned across the side of it.

Trent Munitions

In the world of arms development, it's a powerful name,
run by one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in America.

And here I am, about to get into a helicopter with one
of them, having no clear idea as to what to expect.

“
First time in one of these?” Gray asks as we buckle
up in the back and the helicopter's blades begin to turn.

“
Yes,” I return as the world grows ever louder.

“
Well, don't worry, it's not for long.”

Worried? I'm not worried. Do I look worried?

He takes another glass of champagne from a small table
in front of us and clinks it against mine just as the helicopter
lifts from the tarmac.

“
Tonight will be a night you'll never forget, Ashley.
I can assure you of that.”

Somehow, I can't quite work out whether he's talking
about some sort of evening he's got planned or just the inevitable
sex. The latter, I'm sure, will be amazing. But somehow this seems
like more than that. I was expecting nothing more than a quick fuck
in a hotel suite.

We rise quickly, gliding up vertically into the air and
gently tipping forward as we head out over the Hudson. Within
minutes, Liberty Island is looming in front of us, the statue rising
high into the air.

Down below, the place is bereft of tourists. In fact, it
looks completely deserted.

Slowly, the helicopter begins to descend, falling toward
a patch of land on the island and coming to a stop with a light thud.

The clattering sounds of the rotor blades begins to
weaken, and the pilot quickly comes round to open the door.

“
Here we are,” says Gray with a smile.

He steps off, before helping me out, and I look over the
desolate island, blanketed with the orange hues of the fading sun.
With the magnificent and towering statue looming above us, Gray leads
me up to the base, jutting out in various directions in the shape of
a star.

We move round to the front, and ahead I see the
magnificent skyline of Manhattan dominating the view, tall
skyscrapers launching themselves to the heavens with a thousand
twinkling lights.

“
Have you ever come here before?” asks Gray.

I shake my head, gazing at the sight ahead and the giant
statue behind.

“
Never. I've lived nearby for most of my life but
never actually came here.”

We reach the front of the star, and I see a table set up
with a waiter standing nearby, standing to attention in his black
shirt and pants.

“
Good evening, Mr Trent,” he says, popping the cork
out of a bottle of champagne.

“
Good evening, Brian,” replies Gray, pulling back my
chair and settling me down.

Brian pours two glasses before whispering in Gray's ear
and retreating.

“
I hope you're hungry?” asks Gray as we put our
glasses to our lips.

“
Ravenous,” I venture, although the look in my eyes
suggests it's not food I'm ravenous for, but something else.

Under the light of the fading sun, and caught between
the statue and the beautiful sights of Manhattan in the distance, we
eat and drink and laugh. Soon the first bottle of champagne in done
and we're onto another, our starters and main dishes just about the
most delectable food I've ever eaten.

Brian comes and goes, rushing in and out with our food
and fresh bottles of champagne, all set up beyond in some sort of
portable kitchen/cooler combination.

“
Is he your personal waiter?” I ask.

“
Not personal, just someone a hire sometimes when I
need some catering help. As you can see, he's very attentive.”

I gaze around us once more, still wondering why and,
more importantly, how, we're alone.

“
Isn't the island usually filled with tourists at this
time?”

Gray offers a lopsided grin.

“
Usually, unless it's accepting special guests.”

“
Like you...”

“
And you, Ashley.”

“
I'm not special.”

“
You are to me.”

Our evening continues, the sun descending below the
horizon and the stars beginning to sparkle above. Now we're lit only
by the lights around the statue and its base, creating luminous glows
here and there in the darkness.

When we're done, Gray asks me if I'd like to go to the
top.

“
Can we?” I ask.

“
Of course,” he says. “You can do anything when
you're with me.”

So we enter the statue, and climb the spiral staircase
up through its belly, eventually reaching the crown and staring out
through the various viewing windows just above the great lady's head.

“
Magnificent,” I hear Gray say behind me.

“
It is,” I respond, half in a dream, staring at
Manhattan from my new vantage point.

Then I turn, and realize that he's not looking out of
the window, but at me.

“
It's you who's magnificent, Ashley,” he says.

He moves behind me, standing right at my back, and his
lips begin to drizzle down my neck, his lips nibbling at the back of
my ear, his hands wrapping around me, gripping at my breasts.

Then I hear his belt buckle being undone, his zip being
pulled down, his pants falling over his thighs and to his ankles.

And as he pulls up my dress, and removes my panties, I
just stare out at the world, wondering if life will ever get any
better than this moment.

He drops to his knees, and my panties fall in his hands,
and I feel fingers probing, hands gripping at my ass cheeks as his
tongue presses forward toward my pussy from behind.

I arch my back, push myself out, and widen my legs
slightly so that he can get inside. And as he tells me how great I
taste, how perfect I smell, I feel my loins beginning to throb, a
moistness quickly warming around me.

He stands, and I feel the press of his chest against my
back again, the touch of his lips against my neck.

Both his hands drop now, his fingers sliding up my
thighs and bringing my dress with them. He pulls it up above my lower
back, bunching the fabric so that my bare ass is shining under the
light below him.

“
I can't get enough of your ass,” he whispers, as I
feel the thick head of his dick slowly sliding down between my ass
cheeks.

It snakes over my asshole, reaches my wet lips and
pulses hard with the throb of blood as it gradually disappears inside
me.

I gasp as he slides deeper, my vagina not quite prepared
for him, but quickly lubricating. Soon he's so deep that the flesh of
his crotch is pressed right up against me, his entire length engulfed
within my insatiable pussy.

Locked together, he feels perfect inside me, our shapes
linking like a lock and key. He stays inside me for a while, my ass
slowly grinding against him as his hands explore my chest, reaching
around and diving under my dress, past my bra, onto my breasts.

My eyes start to blur as I stare out through the crown
of the Statue of Liberty, the lights of Manhattan merging as one in
the distance. Gray starts to pump, slow at first, then faster,
harder, until my voice is bellowing and echoing down through the
spiral staircase.

My lustful song escapes the statue, rings out over the
island, but neither of us care. Down below, I can imagine Brian
standing, listening to what we're doing above, perhaps smiling or
perhaps feeling incredibly awkward and embarrassed.

But I don't care.

This moment is one that will lock down into my mind
forever. Sex in the liberty crown, with the entire island as our
private getaway, and the grandeur of Manhattan framing the view in
the distance.

It's perfect, exciting, exhilarating.

And soon we're both coming hard, Gray's pulsing groin
stabbing at me harder and harder until my eyes threaten to roll
inside their sockets and my voice has turned to a gurgle of moans and
groans and the odd word of salacious joy.

“
Harder,” I plead. “Faster.”

He obliges, and the convulsions run through me with more
power and force.

“
I'm coming,” I mumble, my voice caught between
breaths.

It spurs him on even more, and soon I know he's coming
too. The rhythm of his strokes change, growing more febrile and
frantic, his hands gripping harder at my ass, my tits, squeezing at
my neck and twisting my head round until our lips lock together in a
rough kiss of passion.

We reach a crescendo, both our tremulous bodies shaking
in unison, until suddenly the world begins to go limp, and he's
sliding out of me and kissing me deeply, more tenderly.

And the pangs of feeling engulf me. Take over my mind
and turn my lust and attraction into something more.

Because while the sex was amazing, there's no more
perfect a moment than tenderly kissing him after, our bodies drained
of fluids and our lustful fever. So we kiss, New York in the
background, and I know that I'm in trouble.

And suddenly Randall's words are in my head, his
warnings against Gray echoing inside me.

Because now I know what the warning was. It was a
warning against falling for the guy, someone so irresistible that no
girl could deter his charms. A warning against losing myself to him
and letting everything else in my life slip away.

But unfortunately, it's already too late for that.

I'm already falling into his trap.

Chapter Three

I don't hear from Gray for an entire week.

When I do, I know for sure that I'm already in too deep.
The reaction inside me when he calls is something I could never have
anticipated. My heart seems to swell with twice the amount of blood
as usual, and my pulse quickens to a point I'm not sure it's ever
reached.

I look in the mirror when he's ended the call, and the
beaming smile on my face also highlights the impact Gray is having on
me. I'm already at the point where my mind is constantly thinking
about him, and nothing else seems to get a word in edgeways.

Most affected seems to be my work. Or, should I say, my
dream.

For the entire week I find myself unable to be creative,
unable to focus long enough on any design to make any discernible
progress. By now I've found a suitable studio, have filled it with
materials and mirrors and equipment, and am all set to take the world
of fashion design my storm.

But I can't.

Because Gray won't let me, always in my head, holding
dominion over me to the point where I have no control.

So when he calls, and my body reacts the way it does, I
realize that I'm in trouble. But I don't care. All I care about is
seeing him again, experiencing his presence, the aura that seems to
accompany him.

That night, I see him, and he takes me away once more to
a world I've never experienced. This time it's the opera, a private
booth at the Lincoln Center. He wines and dines me, shows me more of
the world he inhabits, and leaves me desperate for more when we done.

But not before he's bedded me once more. Taken me to a
luxury hotel suite and fucked me from one end of the penthouse to the
other. On the bed, in the living room, up against the bookcase, the
glass walls looking out over the city.

We stay the night together, and I wake up next to him
for the first time, my head against his chest, his arm around me. I
watch him sleep for a while, watch his chest rise and fall, and see
him as innocently as a baby, his face so relaxed and beatific in
sleep.

When he wakes, his eyes smile at me, sparkling under the
morning sun, and we make love once more. We roll about in the sheets,
laugh as we play with each other, and I feel like a girl who's
inevitably falling in love.

And then I'm cast aside once more, and don't hear from
him again for two weeks this time.

I return to my studio, to my apartment that now seems so
cold and hollow and lonely, and try to focus on my work. But I can't.
Everything is blurred outside of him. In the recesses of my mind,
he's the only thing that shines up bright, the only thing I can see
clearly.