The Billionaire’s Forever (His Submissive #12)(12)
Author: Ava Claire

“It’s incredible.” I gripped his arms and did a bonafide happy dance. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I felt another part of him stir. “You know the first thing we have to do?”

I had a pretty good idea, but I played dumb, spinning around and bringing one arm up, then the other. “What’s that?”

He swept my hair back then brought his fingertips back to my face, skimming my jaw line and sending sparks through me. “Make every area of this place ours.”

My breath came ragged, my body already onboard. His to command. His to do with as he wished.

I managed to perk and eyebrow and play coy in spite of the overwhelming desire to jump him. “Every area on Mustique?”

His eyes flashed as the side of his mouth twitched and he brought his hands down until they dropped on my fly. “I like ambition.” He brought the zipper down in one single pull. “How about we start with the villa?”

I turned my mouth up to his. His mouth was warm and hungry as I loosened his belt and fly, thankful that it wasn’t an obstacle to be conquered. Everything was easier here, my anxieties relaxing and letting him strip me down and he followed suit. I imagined a four poster bed with sheer mosquito netting draped luxuriously around each post, but he didn’t take me back indoors.

I watched him stride toward the pool’s edge, a living statue of muscle and sin. I could literally watch him walk back and forth, buck na**d and come without even touching myself. But once he submerged himself in the water and gave me a look, I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy…and I had to force myself to maintain my composure and not bolt into his arms and cannonball into the water.

I loved the way the air felt on me. I loved the way his eyes felt on me. Touching, lingering without lifting a finger.

I found my way down the stairs. The weight of the water coated me as he took my hand and stopped me on the bottom step.

“Right here.”

I frowned. “Here?” I bit my lip. “On the steps?” His movements answered me as he lowered me down. My bottom made contact with the slick surface and he came forward, spreading me. He drew his c**k up and down my opening until I found myself lifting my h*ps and pleading with my eyes.

“You want me inside you.”

There was no holding back the moan when he thrust inside me, a single, piercing thrust before he slid out, tempting my entrance again. Waiting for my answer.

“Yes.” I breathed deeply. “I need you inside me.”

His eyes were as blue and soothing as the water as moved in me. Skin to skin. Heart to heart.

His fingertips caressed my wet skin, tugging at my ni**les until he could wait no longer. He drove into the water and gripped my bottom, drilling deeper, harder, eyes no longer soothing but fierce and wild.

He balanced my bottom with one hand, using the other to find my clitoris and rotated his thumb around it slowly and quickly. The speed, his hands, our bodies built to a maddening pitch.

“I’m so close,” I gasped, arching up as I felt my toes curl and the electricity of the orgasm close enough to light me up from head to toe.

“Come,” he said thickly, his thrusts more demanding, his face contorting with his own proximity to bliss, everything taut and feral as I felt the warmth of him filling me.

Paradise. It was more than this Caribbean escape. Heaven was in his arms.

Heaven was Jacob.

****

"Leila?"

I twisted in the covers, the soft Egyptian cotton too perfect to give up. "Five more minutes, Jacob." I figured he’d be more than a little understanding considering he was the reason I was so exhausted in the first place.

The pool had been just the beginning. He took me on the stairs, then up against the side with my legs on his shoulders, showing me I was much more flexible than I gave myself credit for. We’d barely made it back inside the house before I got to see the craftsmanship of the travertine tiles up close and personal. And then there was washing up. Water raining around me beneath the rain fall shower head–with his head between my thighs.

The room came in focus, but I squeezed my eyes shut. I let out a groan and flipped the other way.

"Leila?"

My eyes flew open. That wasn’t Jacob’s voice. I lurched from the bed, yanking the sheets to my chest. I wasn’t na**d to the world since I’d pulled on a tank at some point in the night, but I was close enough considering there was some strange woman standing in the doorway.

She didn’t seem threatening, standing in the door with a mug in her hand. She had to be barely five feet with a petite frame to match. Her features were angular and accentuated by a pageboy haircut and white blond hair. She wore a heather gray Ramones T-shirt, cut off denim shorts and cowboy boots. She obviously wasn’t there to steal my clothing because I could tell just from looking at her she was more fashion conscious than my wardrobe could provide. Not to mention my clothes would swallow her tiny frame whole.

She arched a single eyebrow, intensely blue eyes taking me in warily.

I would have put a hand on my hip if that meant not releasing the cover. She was an intruder. I’d be doing all the glaring, thank you very much.

I came forward a step, balling the sheet in my fist and trying to seem more threatening than I really felt.

"I don’t know who you are, but my husband–" I paused, surprised by the word coming out my mouth so effortlessly. At first I thought it was because I was frightened and somehow, husband sounded better than fiancé. But it felt so natural on my tongue, even if it wasn’t exactly true.

The woman walked to the mahogany dresser near the door and lowered the mug. "I’m Naomi. Mr. Whitmore is finalizing the wedding plans.” Her voice had an Australian lilt. “He sent me here to show you the dress options and help you decide on a bouquet and hair." The sides of the woman’s mouth curled upward in amusement. "Relax. I’m here to help." She gestured at the cup. "It’s fresh.” She snapped her fingers, and fished a note out of her pocket, dropping it beside the coffee. “Why don’t I let you get dressed and you can meet me in the sitting room? A friend of yours is waiting to video chat–"

I dropped the sheet. "Megan?"

Naomi inclined her head, her bight eyes twinkling. "She told me to tell you to ‘hurry up so she can yell at you in person’." She turned to go. “I’ll be right outside.”

I was still catching up, smiling like an idiot because Megan was going to be apart of my day. I told her my name and that it was nice to meet her even though it was obvious she knew exactly who I was.