The Mogul (Necessary Lies Book 2) (7 page)

He held my wrists fast above my head and I felt him moving behind me, changing hands to remove his coat and then his tie and shirt.

“Keep your hands right there above your head. Unless I tell you differently. Or you’ll be punished. Do you understand, Camilla?” He growled into my ear as his hand made a pass inside the front of my sweatpants, agonizingly close to the volcano my sex had become. But he didn’t touch it.

“Yes, Mr. Weston,” I moaned in a husky voice with which I wasn’t familiar as belonging to me.

“Good girl,” he replied, and out of the corner of my eye I watched him kick his pants and boxers away. He was naked.

I felt him kneel behind me, kissing his way down my back again. When he reached the top of my ass, he gently began to roll my sweatpants down, kissing across my beltline as he did so. With every half inch of flesh he slowly exposed, half a dozen kisses followed.

“I was going to go all the way to the floor, but you’re just too delicious. I can’t wait any longer.” He rose to his feet and took hold of my wrists again. I felt his erection pressing against the small of my back.

“Are you wet enough to take it, Camilla?” he asked, his breath hot on the back of my neck.

“Please, Mr. Weston. I’ve never needed anything more!”

“Good girl,” he replied, confidently. Something about him calling me that just electrified me. I swore I could feel his words fucking me before any part of him was inside. If he just kept touching me, kissing me, and calling me that, I was sure I’d climax without him ever entering me or touching my aching sex.

But I’d never get the chance to find out. He squatted down behind me, just low enough, and I felt him, all at once, slide into me from behind. I accepted his girth easily, my entire body made of melted butter, designed for only one thing – pleasing Mr. Weston.

He held my wrists in his right hand while his left came to rest on my hip. He slid into me again and again, and when he sensed I was close, his left hand rose to my throat, closing firmly around it.

“Come for me, Camilla. Make me feel it,” Nolan commanded.

If he’d offered me a billion dollars
not
to come, I couldn’t have possibly complied, I was so far gone. Oxygen was a luxury. Food and water were nice. My impending orgasm was an absolute necessity. If anything that happened to delay it, I’d surely die. But with Nolan’s glorious cock ravaging my body, I had nothing to fear.

The trembling began in my thighs. The strength in my legs disappeared as what seemed like every drop of blood in my body raced to my core. Nolan’s grip on my arms, not to mention what felt like a baseball bat attached to his body lodged inside me, kept me from collapsing. My hips gyrated violently, thrashing and bucking, but he only went deeper. All the while, his fingers closed off the blood flow to my brain, amplifying my release a hundredfold. I’d never felt anything close to what Nolan was making me feel. Every time I thought it couldn’t get more intense, couldn’t feel better, somehow he took me to a new plateau.

The orgasm lasted for what seemed like days, like bobbing in the ocean and being buffeted by waves, each one a new jolt of pleasure. The only thing keeping me tethered to reality was Nolan’s calm, authoritative voice, repeating my mantra over and over again.

“Good girl.

Good girl.

Good girl.”

W
hen my body
finally stopped trembling and he released his hold on me, I slid down the wall, my body much more liquid than solid. He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bed, placing me on my side and curling in behind me.

I was drained. The emotional toll of the past few days, coupled with the soul-shattering orgasm I’d had, left me all but empty. Nolan understood that my exhaustion was complete, that I couldn’t take any more of his devastating lovemaking. He wrapped me up in his arms and we slept, just like that, our fingers intertwined, my head on his bicep, his leg twisted up between mine. My contentment could not have been more complete.

When I awoke, hours later, I thought I was in heaven. The white sheets around me, Nolan Weston’s arms around me, his stubbly chin between my shoulder blades. I wriggled and twisted and managed to roll over, wanting badly to see his handsome face and to finally kiss him in earnest.

He woke up as I rolled, and when I was finally face to face with him, he was grinning.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered before we kissed.

We cuddled and kissed and tickled, laughing softly. I felt his arousal swelling against my leg and I reached down, giving him a squeeze.

“At your age, how much Viagra does it take to keep getting so many erections, Mr. Weston?” I asked, playfully, giving him long, slow strokes.

“I could be a hundred and fifty years old and have no trouble getting it up for you, Camilla. You’re the sexiest woman on the planet.”

We kissed again and again, and I opened my legs to receive him, but he stopped just short.

“You insatiable little minx,” he teased. “Is this all you think about?” At the word “this”, he let just his tip slide into my opening before withdrawing.

I moaned in frustration, lifting my hips, chasing his cock.

“Yes! You know it is. Please!”

He gave me the most wicked smile, staring into my eyes. “Security told me you’ve barely left the room. You haven’t even been to the lagoon yet. We’ll have dinner and then we must have a soak. After that, my body is yours. I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop. Deal?”

I pouted petulantly. But what he suggested sounded fantastic. I hoped he couldn’t hear my stomach rumbling. And I’d been dying to get into the pool.

“I’m going to make
you
beg me to stop,” I said.

We dressed and went to dinner in the hotel, seafood so fresh we both figured it might just have been swimming in the North Atlantic that morning.
We discussed the graduation trip I’d planned with my classmates, and no matter which European city I mentioned, he’d inevitably been there before. I made it my goal to somehow, someday, find a place on the globe where Nolan hadn’t visited, someplace we’d take in fresh, together, someplace that was just ours.

After dinner, we went to our room to change. Nolan’s bag had been sent up while we ate, and when I stepped out of the bathroom wearing a robe over my bikini and spotted him in just his trunks, he looked so good that I was tempted to forego the Blue Lagoon and get right to the part where we resumed our morning activities. He was spectacular.

He noticed my hungry stare and he ran a hand up his abs to his chest, stretching his arms in front of him so that every muscle rippled. I let my robe fall open, revealing the bikini I’d bought back at school but never had the confidence to wear, light green and Brazilian-cut, something I bought more as a goal item, something to inspire me to eat right and work out harder in the hopes of one day looking good enough to fit into properly.

Judging by Nolan’s reaction, that day had arrived.

“Oh my God, Camilla.” He walked across the room and put his hand on the small of my back, pulling me in for a kiss. “Do you want to give every man in Iceland a heart attack?”

“You’re crazy,” I said. I couldn’t imagine wearing something so provocative in public, but on Nolan’s arm, I felt like I could conquer the world.

“Shall we?” he asked, picking up his own robe from the bed.

“We shall,” I replied, and we left our suite holding hands.

It was evening, and the pool was mostly empty, just a few couples here and there. We had to pass through the lockers to enter, where a pre-soak shower was mandatory. I worked the special provided conditioner into my hair and tied it up in a messy bun. The water in the lagoon was supposed to be so mineral-rich that even with conditioner before and after and not letting hair get wet, it would still be damaged. I didn’t want to meet my father with breakable hair so I took no chances.

There was a chill in the air despite it being early summer. The moon hung full and bright overhead.

“Unfortunately, we’re here at the wrong time of year for the Aurora Borealis. I’ve never seen it from this part of Iceland,” he mused.

“That just gives us a reason to come back, right?” I asked.

“Indeed,” he replied, shedding his robe and rubbing his palms on his upper arms to stay warm.

The water was a sort of turquoise, with wisps of steam rising from it.

I let my robe fall off my shoulders and set it on a chaise, shivering from the sudden cold. “I hope that water is as warm as they say it is,” I said as we strolled down the pier toward the pool.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Nolan responded. We held hands and walked in together, the mineral-rich water sending jolts of warmth into our bodies as soon as our feet were submerged.

Nolan watched my face as we got deeper and deeper into what amounted to the world’s largest hot tub.

My joy must have been obvious, because he grinned at me as we both lowered ourselves neck-deep.

“Oh, this is absolutely divine,” I said, looking up at the stars and feeling any and all tension in my body disappear.

“Come on over this way. I’ll show you my favorite spot,” Nolan said, and we half-swam, half-duck-walked, depending on the depth, until we reached a small archway with a waterfall crashing down. Nolan backed up under the flow, sighing as he enjoyed the aquatic massage. I joined him, and suddenly I had my own favorite spot in the Blue Lagoon. In Keflavik. In Iceland. Whose life was this?

The water pounded our backs and shoulders, and I relaxed and let my mind drift It was like the jets in a hot tub, but focused across my entire upper back. Between what Nolan did to my body, the incomparable meal we ate, and now this, I figured I must now hold some sort of world record for sustained bliss.

Nolan led me back behind the waterfall, to a sort of hidden cove filled with steam. The heat was almost unbearable. He took my face in his hands and kissed me ravenously. “I could kiss you forever, Camilla. I am so deep in love with you that it terrifies me,” he said to me, our foreheads gently touching and his hands cradling my face. My arms were around his neck.

“I love you, too, Nolan. More than anything I’ve ever loved. Or ever imagined I could love.”

We kissed and kissed until the heat we were generating was far greater than what the Lagoon could ever provide. We swam and slid our way back to the pier, and Nolan got out first and brought a towel back to the water to keep the cool air from me. I couldn’t help but notice what all our kissing had done to him.

“You’re so bad,” I scolded him for the public display of his arousal.

“That’s why I need a good girl like you. An angel to balance my demons.”

We stood and kissed under the stars before splitting up to shower and rinse away the minerals from the Lagoon. Even with such a healthy dose of conditioner and adding more for a second rinse, I could feel that my hair had become brittle. I’d attack it again in the morning. The night demanded I attack the body, and libido, of Nolan Weston.

Once we returned to our suite, we couldn’t get out of our clothes fast enough. Hands and mouths were everywhere, and he wound up on his back in the center of the bed, his arousal jutting obscenely from his flat stomach.

He placed both hands behind his head and propped his head up on a pile of pillows. “I accept your challenge, Camilla. Make me beg you to stop.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Weston,” I replied, in the sultriest voice I could summon.

I climbed atop him, straddling his cock but not allowing him entry. I writhed atop him like a cat, melting my curves into and around his sharp edges, my breasts crushed against his muscular chest, kissing him hard. He started to reach for me, but I guided his hands back behind his head.

“Those stay there.” His eyes widened and the hint of a smile crossed lifted the corners of his mouth.

I could feel his hips lifting from the bed, trying to gain access to my sexual vault, but I wasn’t yet ready. I slid back down so that I was just below his cock, and I sat straight up, running my hands all over my body. I took hold of him at his base, pointing him straight toward the ceiling. I rose up so that I was positioned just above it, so that if I dropped down, I’d engulf him. And I began to touch myself.

I held him still with one hand and rubbed myself wantonly with the other. In full view of my lover. The look of hopeful desperation on his face was priceless.

As my first orgasm arrived, I watched him grit his teeth through my hazy eyes. I let myself sink down for just a moment, reminding him how it felt then I was off him again.

His gasp was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.

I performed for him, mewing and moaning, making myself come as he trembled and groaned. I’d slide down onto his angry hardness, allowing him three and four thrusts, then lift myself off and move up to kiss him, running my fingertips up and down his sides. I thought he might weep.

“Did you enjoy kissing my back earlier, Mr. Weston?” I asked him.

His reply was ragged, breathless. “Yes, yes I did.”

“And my ass? Do you like my ass, Mr. Weston?”

“I fucking love your ass, Camilla. It’s perfect.”

“Good. Then you’ll enjoy this view.”

I rose up and kicked a leg across his body, turning around so that I faced away from him. I impaled myself on him, grinding down so he’d fill me completely. My orgasms came easily and rapidly, riding and bouncing on him, my hands drifting down to rake his inner thighs with my fingernails. When I let my hand slide further up and I took a gentle grip of his balls, he began to buck off the bed, up into me, pounding me as best he could.

“Oh, Camilla, you’re so wicked. Oh fuck!”

I squeezed harder and began to ride him more fervently, abandoning any pretense of being a civilized 21
^st
century human being. I was wild, a primal, sexual being. Fucking on instinct. Having no need for language or logic. Needing only to come. And more than that needing to make my man come. To feel his eruption.

“Come for me, Nolan. I want to feel you come. I know you want to. I’m going to force you to come.”

He was shaking, incoherently groaning, and suddenly… I stopped.

I lifted up and turned to see a look of complete confusion and shock on his face. I almost felt bad for him. But a deal is a deal and he accepted my challenge. I was determined to win.

I was facing him again, raised up just far enough that he could fucking nothing but air. “Let’s start again, shall we? That’s the beauty of being a woman; I can climax as many times as I want to. Can you stand it? Or will I get to hear the mighty Nolan Weston beg?”

His head was rolling from side to side, but his willpower kept his hands behind his head.

“Watch me, baby. Watch me come for you.”

I lowered myself onto him, but did not move. I rubbed myself to orgasm again, with him inside me, my eyes locked on his the entire time.

Each time he closed his eyes, I coaxed them back open. “You’ve told me I have beautiful eyes. Don’t you want to look at them? Watch me, you have to watch me. I want to be your good girl so bad. Watch me come, Mr. Weston.”

His eyes flashed with something like rage and his nostrils flared as I continued my sexual siege on him.

“Put your hands on my breasts, Mr. Weston. Feel how hard my nipples are for you. Help your good girl come.”

He placed his hands on my breasts and mauled them, plucking at my nipples and taking great handfuls of the tender flesh.

“Up and down. Please.”

The words were barely above a whisper.

“What did you say, Mr. Weston?” I feigned having not heard him, grinding my hips down onto his.

“Fuck. Go up and down! Ride me Camilla, I need to come! Please!”

He was nearly shouting. I’d never seen him so undignified. And I’d never been so aroused.

I lay down on him and kissed him deeply, fucking him wildly, until we both climaxed together. I feared the power of his orgasm might force me off the bed completely, maybe to the ceiling, but his hands on my hips held me tight to his body. My own ecstasy was overwhelming. It would be impossible for two people to feel closer to one another than at that moment. Through gritted teeth, his soul spilled out through his voice just as he flooded me with his release.

“I love you, Camilla. I love you forever. And longer.”

Limp, sweaty, and exhausted, we collapsed onto the bed in each other’s arms, kissing our way into a well-deserved sleep.