Taking his Risk (Year of the Billionaire Part 2) (12 page)

BOOK: Taking his Risk (Year of the Billionaire Part 2)
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There
simply wasn't anything I could do for either of my parents at that moment. There was a waiting game to be played and, tough as it was, we all had to play it. I could spend the day pacing or I could go for distraction.

I was dying to see where Tristan lived, anyway. He had told me that the place in the Berkshires 'wasn't him' and I was hoping that I would get the chance to see a place that really reflected his style.
"I'd like to see your place. Where is it?"

"Manhattan."

"That much I knew. Where in Manhattan?"

"Uh-uh. I'm going to surprise you."

 

Twelve

 

When Kwan pulled the car up in front of the Dakota, I nearly fainted.
Home to celebrities and the mega wealthy, the historic old building was notoriously hard to get into. The
rejected
prospective tenant list reads like a Hollywood red carpet roll call.

The Dakota is a beautiful building. A lot of people say it looks creepy or haunted, but I disagree. I was trying hard not to appear awestruck when we crossed the lobby. The chandeliers, the dark wood, the rich carpets and wingback chairs all screamed old money and class.

When the elevator doors shut, Tristan wrapped his arms around me and claimed my mouth with a savage kiss. "I will make this right for us, Raina. I promise you." The old elegant elevator lumbered slowly to his floor. I wasn't in a hurry. His mouth and mine passed the time well enough.

The doors slid open and we crossed into his apartment. In spite of the fact that I was utterly ready for whatever he had in store for me, I had to gasp at
the beautiful interior. It was blended elegance with a vengeance. The inlaid wood floors were strewn with oriental rugs and everything was done in rich shades of burgundy, blue and gold. Antiques, Chinese vases, crystal lamps, modern overstuffed couches and striking Impressionistic paintings all melded together into a harmonious and surprisingly comfortable looking whole.

"This is a beautiful apartment. Did you do this yourself?"

"Yes, I did. It's my refuge." He put his hand against a particularly delicate blue and white vase on the hall table. "Some of these things are from our old house."

I knew now, more than ever, why Tristan felt he needed a refuge. After living through the last few days I felt like I needed one, too. Once again I felt a chill shudder cross my shoulders when I considered the vigilance required in his lifestyle. He saw my body language, but mistook the source. His strong arms gathered me close to him.

"Make love with me. Find your way so close to me that everything disappears but you and I for as long as we can make it last."

I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew I should be drawing back, not growing closer. But he had said 'make love'. The word had been spoken. Out loud.

He didn't give me any time for an internal argument. Gathering me in his arms, he kissed me with a compelling, passionate kiss that possessed me completely. His tongue found mine and played against it. He ran the tip up under my lips and bit softly on my lower one.

I laced my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in the waves that spilled over his collar. He bent and put one strong arm under my knees and another one at my back and pulled me off my feet. As he carried me through the living room and into the opulent bedroom, I couldn't help but think that someday I'd love to be carried this way as his bride. I filed that thought in the "don't go there" file
, determined to enjoy the here and now knowing this could well be the last time.

My dress had ridden up to just under my hip bones and he could see the tiny string bikini covering my sex. He leaned down and blew through the fabric. The warm moist heat of his breath stirred my clit to attention. My body had learned
well how to react to him and appreciate his every move.

"Take off your dress, Raina." It wasn't a request.

I loved the control in his voice. He wasn't asking for anything, he was demanding it. For some odd reason it made perfect sense, in
this
context with
this
man. I knew what to do with myself, with a man, in the bedroom, but with him there was an element of something I had never experienced before. I
wanted
him to tell me what to do. My life felt so out of control. I needed him to command me. I craved the strength in him.

"Lay back against the pillows."

I did as I was told. He removed my shoes and placed my feet far apart on the bed, splaying my legs open. "Beautiful Raina." He stepped over to the side of the bed toward my head and pressed my hand into the front of his pants. "Feel that? Feel how much I want you already?"

I did feel it. I felt it hard and straining in his pants. I was so ready for that cock that was ready for me. I reached up to unfasten his belt. "No," he said. "I want you
to watch me undress. But first . . ." He pulled me away from the mountain of pillows and removed my bra. He dropped it on the chair behind him and returned his hands to my breasts. He held them in his perfect and powerful hands, first hefting their weight and squeezing them, then twisting the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I whimpered a little as they tightened under the painful pleasure. He smiled and leaned down to take each one in his mouth in turn and suck, popping off of the peaks with a smack. He gently placed my head and shoulders on the soft cushions.

"Mmmm. Delicious and so delicate."

His hands went to the strings at the side of my panties and he slipped them down over my hips. He brought my legs together so he could remove them and then spread me again afterwards. He leaned over and kissed me on my pussy just barely teasing over the folds and giving my clit a brief and tantalizing swirl before he stood. He went to the foot of the bed and said, "Bring your knees up and spread your thighs as far as you can get them."

I followed his instructions. I was naked and exposed. He began to remove his shirt excruciatingly slowly. "Touch yourself." He fin
ally reached the last button. "I love it when you show me how you want me."

"Oh, God, I do want you," I replied.

"Don't tell me . . . show me." He kept his eyes trained between my legs as I brought a tentative hand down to my mound. I was more prepared this time to give him what he wanted. I'd never even touched myself during sex until Tristan had told me to when he took me at Brian's. Now I knew the thrill of it and a mixture of excitement and self-consciousness gurgled inside me. I watched the movement of his muscles as he wriggled the shirt off his back and it slipped to the floor. He was so sleek, such a purely male animal. I groaned as my mind and my pussy registered the thought at the same moment. I didn't have to touch my folds to know that I was already dripping wet. "Give yourself permission, Raina. Silence the voices."

He could crawl right inside my head, that's for sure. I can't explain what held me back, but it was exactly as if there were little voices saying "no, no, no" inside my head. It was too int
imate, and the intimacy compelled and frightened me at the same time.

He unbuckled his belt. My fingers found my clit and began a familiar dance of pleasure. I knew just the right pressure, just the right speed and having his eyes following every move I made heated me up in a way I could never have imagined.

His trousers fell to his feet and he kicked them off along with his loafers. He leaned down to take off his socks but his eyes never left my body. Finally, he shoved his boxers down and stood at my feet watching me. His cock was standing straight out from his body and the sight of him so hard--so hard for me--propelled my hand to a higher speed. I closed my eyes and let the sensations break over me.

"You're such a greedy one, such a hot pussy, greedy for cock."

The way he said things did something to me. His very tone made me want to satisfy his every desire. From another man, it might have been different. I might even have found it demeaning. But not with him.

I opened my eyes and watched him devouring the sight of me. He had a hand on his cock and was stroking it softly. It awoke another level of lust in me and I wondered if he was going to make himself come with me.

"Let yourself go. Come for me. Excite me."

I wasn't far from orgasm. Seeing him naked and ready in front of me, so fine, so fucking sexy pushed me over. I put more pressure than ever on my clit and began to moan as the contractions started deep within me and became a concentration of pleasure at my clit. The spasms were hard and sharp, as they always are when I masturbate. I kept his gaze for as long as I could, but squeezed my eyes shut when the sensation overtook me. I lapsed into the brief ecstasy of being completely alone with my climax.

I opened my eyes and he was at the side of the bed. "That was gorgeous. Absolutely perfect."

I glowed with his praise. I wanted to give him anything he wanted. Anything.

"Now, suck me off." He took my wrists in his hands and pulled me up to sit on the edge of the bed. Standing in front of me, his erection was inches from my face. He took it in his hand and bounced it against my cheek, sort of slapping me with it in a way that I found beyond erotic. I licked my lips, anticipating having him in my mouth.

He took my wrists again and placed my hands behind my head, holding them against my neck with one of his much larger ones. He put his other hand on my throat and guided my head toward his cock. I tasted the salty drop of cream that had appeared at the tip before he pressed himself into my mouth.

I was his vessel in every sense of the word. My hands were pinned and he was in control of every movement. He moved my head forward and matched that with small thrusts through my lips. He kept his eyes fixed on the sight of his swollen cock disappearing into my face.

There had never been a moment in my sexual experience that felt quite this way. He was
using
my body and yet I felt anything
but
used. His lust, his desire and his excitement transferred into me through some sort of intimate conduit and fueled a frenzy of passion deep inside me. I began to moan against him and he worked himself in and out.

He answered my sounds with groans and called my name repeatedly in the raspy voice of heat. There's something about hearing your own name like that, called out in a moment so primal, which fuels the fire. I sucked at him harder and urged him with my mouth to release into me.

I didn't have to wait long. I knew his climax was upon him when he stopped and held my head still, his cock as deep as I could take him. He released my hands and I immediately grasped the cheeks of his ass as he started to heave great sighs toward the ceiling. His hips jerked and his come hit the back of my throat in hot jets that I swallowed with great satisfaction, knowing I had pleased him.

He looked down at me and smiled. "There's no more beautiful sight than your mouth wrapped around my cock
. God, you almost make me dizzy . . ." He took my face in both of his hands and kissed me, first softly, then deeply.

"Can you taste yourself in my mouth?" I asked him.

"Just a little . . ." He sat down beside me on the bed. "Funny, I don't think I've ever done that."

"Kiss a mouth you've just come in?"

He looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, that."

"Tristan, you don't have to be shy about it. I've got no illusions about your
experience
." I put 'air quotes' around experience.

"Well, that was a new one, at any rate."

Somehow when he told me that we had done something he'd never done before I got a little thrill. I knew I could never be
the first
and nor could he be. But knowing I could be the first at something was gratifying nevertheless. It was a lot like finding out from Kwan that Elsa wasn't with him at
Cap d'Agde

 

***

 

We rummaged around in the kitchen for something snack on. It was lunchtime but neither one of us felt like going anywhere. For one thing, we didn't want to put any clothes on. I loved the idea of padding around Tristan's amazing apartment buck naked. He had introduced me to the joy of nudity. No matter what happened to 'us', I'd probably spend the rest of my life seeking new ways to shed my clothes.

I kept looking anxiously at the collection of cell phones that we carried from room to room. Tristan peered from behind the door of the refrigerator and caught me.

"We have done everything we can. I know you heard everyone agree that if the kidnappers said they'd call in 24 hours, that's when they'll call. My bank is gathering the money and I'll have it before they close today."

"It just seems so wrong to be . . .
well,
enjoying
myself so much when Mom is being held hostage."

"I understand. But, you know something? I can't think of anything we could have done that would have made more sense." He walked toward me across the kitchen and held me against him. "Is there anything mo
re comforting?"

I pressed my cheek against his warm, bare chest and listened to his heart beat as he stroked my hair. "I'm scared, Tristan. Very scared."

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