My Billionaire Fling by Maci Dillon
SOPHIA
A young French waiter shows us to our table toward the back of the dining room.
Once seated, Gabe orders a bottle of wine to share, and I happily take him up on his offer to order my meal this evening.
“How often do you fly to London for business?”
“As often as required, depends on the projects I’m working on.”
“You don’t have a permanent office here?”
Gabe shakes his head. “No. If necessary, I hire a space for the length of time to conclude the existing project, but the suite I stay in is well-equipped with a large office. I conduct most of my work from there, but for the most part, I’m hands on with my clients.”
I do like a hands-on man.
When a senior waiter arrives to introduce himself and take our order, I take a minute to peruse the menu. Gabe knows exactly what he wants, clearly familiar with the offerings. No doubt he brings all his dates here to lure them into bed.
When we’re alone again, Gabe continues, “My assistant, Elise, sometimes travels with me, and when that happens, I rent a space she can work from or at least make sure her hotel has ample office space. I don’t allow just any woman into my room.”
“Oh,” I quip. “So you’re a ladies’ man with standards?”
“You wouldn’t be here if I weren’t. A ladies’ man, that is.” His grin spreads like wildfire across his face, and it’s hard not to smile in return.
“Why are we talking about work, anyway? I told you the rule. No business talk on a date.”
“We aren’t discussing business. I’m trying to get to know you.”
“How about I ask the questions?”
“Fine, ask away.”
Over dinner, we play a game of twenty questions, Gabe style. The conversation flows easily, and I’m surprised by the effortless banter between us.
The waiter returns to check on our meals. “Perfect, thank you,” I assure him with a smile. I’m part way through my Alaskan king crab and green pepper curry. Gabe settled on the sea urchin with potato foam and creamy champagne sauce. The menu is exquisite, and the meals are extraordinary.
“Would you like a dessert menu to follow, sir?” the waiter addresses Gabe.
“Thank you, if you wouldn’t mind,” he answers, wiping the corner of his mouth with the linen napkin. A spot of sauce remains on the opposite side of his lips, and it takes all my willpower to remain in my seat and not reach forward to lick up the yummy goodness, stealing a taste of his perfectly kissable mouth at the same time.
An hour later, we’re learning we have more in common than I imagined. As the wine keeps coming, it becomes blatantly clear saying no to this man is going to be one of the hardest things I ever have to do.
“Favorite city?” I ask.
“Hmm, I love Paris for the food and art, but strangely enough, I can’t go past a weekend in Seattle. There’s something about the ferry boats that intrigue me.” I chuckle, happy to hear he’s human, after all.
“Paris is by far my favorite. I haven’t been to New York before, so I’m looking forward to next weekend.”
“Never?”
“Uh-ha, never say never.” I laugh. “Never is for people with no will to succeed.”
He raises his glass to me, and we toast. “I love the way you think, Sophia.”
No doubt he’d love a transcript of my current dirty thoughts.
“I’ll have my assistant schedule in some sightseeing while you’re in New York. You can’t say you’ve been without photos at all the main attractions.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. I believe you can go all the way up to the crown.”
“It’s usually booked well in advance for entry into the crown, but I’ll try anything once.”
No doubt you would.
“What’s that smirk for?”
Busted. Damn my sinfully delicious thoughts.
“Who, me?” I joke, spinning around as if he must be speaking about somebody else. That’s when I see most of the diners have left for the evening.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He grins when my focus returns to him.
Intrigued, I place my elbows on the table, link my hands together, and rest my chin in my knuckles. “You got me. What are we thinking?”
“It’s getting late. And late nights with wine and good company lead to straight past the dinner-only gate.”
“Oh, they do?” I feign ignorance and take another sip of fruity goodness. “I’m sadly unaware. It’s not often I enter the date gate.”
Amused, Gabe chuckles, the sound genuine and refreshing to my ears.
“I find that hard to believe, Sophia. You’re a beautiful woman crowned with grace and success. All the single men of London must beg for your company.”
Laughter bursts from my chest at the idea this man has about me.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Most men who are emotionally available are threatened by my success and power.”
“As they should be. But I’m not most men.”
No, you’re the type of man I avoid at all costs.
“Gabe...” His name leaves my lips in a breathy gasp. Engaged in conversation all the way home after dinner, I gave no thought to where we might be going. Now the car has pulled to a stop, I peep through the window and see we’ve arrived at the Palace, where I suspect Gabe spends his nights while visiting the city on business.
“Join me for a night cap.” He motions for me to step out of the car with him, and as much as I want to, he’s now involved in my business dealings, and I refuse to mix business with pleasure. Telling him so only gives cause for him to refute the feeble excuse.
“Bringing an opportunity to you isn’t the same as going into business together. Believe me, there’s nothing business-like about my attraction to you, Sophia.” He brushes a curl back from my face, a simple touch that ignites flames even the London Fire Brigade would struggle to eliminate.
“What sort of nightcap are we talking about?” With the fruity sensation of our dinner wine still a velvety presence in my mouth, a gin and soda could sway my decision.
“With twenty-four-hour room service and access to an open bar, the choice is all yours, sweetheart.”
Maybe it’s the wine or my overactive sex drive, but sweetheart whispered in his American accent makes me gush in a way I'm thankful I wore panties. I extend my hand and allow him to guide me to his suite.
Inside the elevator, he keeps his eyes locked on the flashing lights as we ascend each floor. Unable to stand the tension building between us any longer, I press my palm into his shoulder, spinning him until he faces me and push him unapologetically against the wall.
His mouth falls open, and his eyes darken with lust. Like a wanton church-going woman unable to deny the sin of a man’s touch, I crash my lips to his in a heated frenzy.
Before I know it, I’m grinding myself shamelessly over his thigh. His hand slips beneath the skirt of my dress, and he groans when his fingers meet the damp heat of my pussy through my thong. “Fuck, Sophia. You’re so wet.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” I whisper breathlessly as he works his fingers over my clit.
“I want all of you in every way possible.”
My hands are everywhere but not close enough. I pull his shirt from his pants and with frenzied fingers, attempt to flick open the buttons.
Oh, fuck it.
Buttons pop from the shirt and fall to the ground as I tear it open, exposing his toned chest. “Fuck me,” he growls, inserting his finger into my fiery heat. A light smattering of hair covers his pecs, and I salivate at the rippling six-pack beneath my fingers, tensing with every movement as he finger-fucks me.
Almost at the point of no return, my lips caress his chest, and I lick my way up his neck when the elevator signals our arrival and the doors open. Gabe pushes me out and takes my hand, pulling me behind him until we’re inside his room. He pins me against the wall with his chest and removes his jacket and buttonless shirt.
Quickly, he lifts my dress and grins wickedly, taking my thong in his fingers, and this time, instead of pulling it to the side, he tears it from my body with ease. My head falls back completely at his mercy as he bends down, hooks his arms around my thighs, and lifts me. I shriek at the sudden movement.
“I got you, sweetheart.”
Gabe is standing tall, my pussy open at his mouth and my back straight, pinned to the wall. I’m literally on top of the world at this moment.
Holding me in place, high above him, I thank the universe for high ceilings and men who can lift. My legs rest over his shoulders as he licks the length of my wetness, groaning like a starved man. Teasing me with the heat of his tongue and precision of his touch, he masterfully swirls his tongue around my clit, flicking the hardened nub until I see stars and writhe against him.
When I think I can’t take it any longer, his tongue darts between my lips, lapping at my juices.
“Holy fuck, Gabe.”
“Mmm,” he moans against me, the hum on my pussy only pushing me further to the edge.
“I’m so close,” I weep, clutching his hair tightly as I ride his face.
I’ve never been so desperate to come, yet so unwillingly to reach the end of an orgasm in my life.
“Give it to me, sweetheart. Come on my face.”
It’s all I need to succumb to the abyss which is Gabe fucking Lugreno.
Once my body stops convulsing with tortured pleasure, he lowers me to the floor and adjusts himself in his pants. “We better get you out of those pants and take care of that.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, stripping naked.
When his cock springs free from its confines, I gulp, momentarily rethinking the situation. This guy is going to break me.
And I’m going to love every fucking minute of it.
“Oh, I didn’t ask.” Walking further into his suite, I’m unsure where he wants me.
His gaze challenges me as I shrug out of my dress and remove my bra and heels. My body burns from the inside out under his watchful eye, standing naked before him.
“Turn around.” He stalks toward me as I turn away. “Over the sofa.”
His words are clipped, and his voice is rough. Taking two steps to the sofa, I lean forward over the chair’s arm, my ass facing him. Ready and waiting.
Behind me, I hear him tearing open a packet and sheathing himself with a condom.
To better support myself on my elbows, I stretch further forward. Gabe runs his cock through my folds and, without a single word, edges inside.
“Relax, sweetheart.”
A pleasurable moan escapes me as he fills me, gliding in and out at a teasingly slow pace. “Ah, fuck.” As he massages the globes of my ass, he quickens the pace, flexing his strong hips, driving me deeper into the cushions. “This won’t last long… your pussy is too fucking hot.”
Between his accent and his dirty talk, I’m fast approaching my second release. “So… fucking good…” I moan, ignoring the chair’s arm digging into me.
He slaps my ass and ramps up the power of his movements until my muffled groans turn to outright cries of pleasure when I convulse around his cock. He reaches his release with a gratifying grunt and rubs his hands over my back as we both calm down and catch our breath.
Before cleaning himself up and fetching us some drinks, he helps me to my feet, and directs me to the bathroom.
