An Improper Bride (Elliot & Annabelle #2) (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 4)

by Nadia Lee

“No, nothing. Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page with regards to our marriage. This is a new beginning. I don’t want to treat you callously the way I did before. But that also means we have to have an open and trusting relationship.” I put a subtle emphasis on trust.

  Maybe it’s my imagination, but did her knuckles whiten briefly? I wish we were someplace with better lighting.

  She leaves her seat and sits on my lap. “Elliot, I appreciate everything you’ve done.” She takes my big, callused hand in her smaller and more delicate ones. She brings it to her lips and kisses each knuckle. “And I trust you.”

  It’s such a simple and innocent gesture. There’s no accusation, no trying to put me on the defensive. Maybe Paddington meant figuring out what happened when she was fifteen is harder than expected.

  I told her it was a new beginning, but I’m letting my own past get in the way. What did Elizabeth say about me being a hypocrite?

  No jumping to conclusions until I know more.

  I wrap my fist in Belle’s hair and pull her down for a kiss.

  * * *

  Annabelle

  I return Elliot’s kiss, my mouth open and hot. The way he spoke of secrets and trust tightens my chest. Guilt pricks my heart, but even though he talked as though nothing would change from my sharing, I know he’s wrong. People say whatever sounds good to get what they want, but their actions don’t always match their words. Not that I think Elliot is lying. But he might be under the delusion that he can be steadfast when he really can’t. I’ve seen how quickly people’s hatred for one thing can bleed into another. The scandal involving my father turned my life upside down even though it had nothing to do with me.

  I’m too afraid to see the warmth in Elliot’s eyes change to ice—or worse, contempt. The problems I have with Mr. Grayson and Dennis are my own, something I need to take care of. Elliot and I only have twelve short months together. Is it too much to hope for a fairy tale year?

  I dig my hands into his hair and pull him closer, tighter. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  My heart beats with a staccato rhythm that knocks against my chest with such force that it almost hurts. I tunnel my hands under his shirt. His skin is warm and taut. I trace the tight lines and ridges of his abs. The hardness of his thighs feels delicious between my legs. I twitch and catch my breath as the vibrator suddenly starts up again.

  Elliot gets up, his arms gathering and supporting me. I wrap my legs around his waist. My fingers dig into his wide shoulders. Everything about him is powerful and sexy as he carries me to the bedroom. Pressed this tightly to him, I can feel every ripple of his solid, heavy muscles.

  As soon as the door shuts behind us, I glide down his body. I tug at the halter-top knot holding my dress up. It pools at my feet, all crumpled whiteness. I unhook my bra, letting it drop, and my matching panties soon join the rest of my outfit.

  Elliot’s eyes have flared. The light in the room hides nothing of my reaction to his nearness. My breasts ache, fuller and heavier under his hot gaze. The tingling sensation deepens in my pointed nipples, at the juncture of my legs. I’m so wet that even my inner thighs are slick. Elliot runs his thumbs over my nipples, and I cry out at the sharp pleasure that courses through me.

  His cock strains, thickly outlined against his pants, and I drop to my knees before him, licking my lips. I want to show him with my body that he can trust me—that I’d never betray him.

  My hands shaking, I unbuckle and unzip his pants. Elliot waits, his breathing uneven. I pull down his boxer briefs, just low enough to expose him. His erection springs into my eager palm, the plum-shaped head already glistening with a few drops of precum. I make a fist around the thick shaft, feel it pulse as though begging for more of my touch.

  I breathe over it softly. His scent is strong and earthy. Anticipation and need tighten his breathtaking, beloved face, and desire heats my blood until it’s all I can do not to whimper. My gaze on his face, I pull the tip of his cock into my mouth, my lips creating a tight seal.

  His eyes darken, and a soft groan tears from his bare throat. I run the tip of my tongue across the spot between the bottom of his head and shaft, and feel him grow harder and thicker.

  “Fuck, yes,” he hisses between his clenched teeth.

  I pull him deeper, as much as I can take of him. The salt of his precum coats my tongue, and I suck, trying to milk more of it. I bob my head and use my hand as well since there’s no way I can take all of him.

  “The thing you do with your mouth…” He groans helplessly.

  I drag my lips along his shaft as I pull back then suck him in deeper again. His hand sinks into my hair.

  “Cup your tits and roll your nipples with your fingers. I want to feel you come with my dick in your pretty pink mouth.”

  Obediently, I fondle my breasts. The touch of my hands is different from his—lighter and softer. I gasp as the fire burns hotter in my gut as I pleasure myself like this, his gaze on me and his cock between my lips.

  He reaches for something in his pants pocket. The vibrator inside me pulses with greater force. I groan deep in my throat as need throbs in my core and spreads all over me.

  “Touch your clit. Make yourself feel really, really good,” Elliot orders, his voice rough and guttural with arousal. His hand tightens around my hair. “I’m going to fuck you in the mouth, and you’re going to come on your knees over and over again.”

  Despite the air conditioning in the room, a fine sweat appears on my heated skin. My sex clenches around the vibrator. Its ruthless buzzing and the feel of my finger strumming the swollen bundle of nerves between my legs push me toward orgasm. Elliot starts pumping in and out of me. Although the movements of his narrow pelvis are slow and powerful, he makes sure not to force more than I can handle.

  The beginning of a climax simmers in my blood. My hands and fingers move harder and faster over my body, air sawing in and out of my burning lungs. Elliot says filthy things that I feel rather than comprehend.

  “Don’t stop. Keep going,” he says, his voice almost unrecognizable. “Come for me, beautiful.”

  His steely command pushes me over the edge. Every cell in my body convulses as a powerful orgasm rips through me.

  “Again,” he commands.

  My primed body obeys, even as he keeps driving into my mouth.

  “Again.”

  I climax for the third time, my scream muffled against his thick erection. I try to bob my head, wanting to get him to join me, but his hands hold me prisoner. So I hollow my cheeks and use my tongue, feel his cock jerk in my mouth.

  “No, Belle. You aren’t making me come in your mouth.” He withdraws.

  I blink up at him in confusion. I feel like someone’s taken away a special treat. “But I want you to…”

  “I’m going to come in your tight wet pussy.”

  He pulls me up and carries me to the bed. With a few rough jerks of his arms and hands, he strips himself. He is so magnificent, all chiseled angles and lines, without an ounce of fat on his gorgeous body, that he looks more like a sculpture than human. His cock glistens with my saliva and pulses greedily.

  “Spread your legs,” he orders, sheathing himself with a condom.

  I obey shamelessly, not caring that he can see how wet I am. I want him to know how much I want him.

  He presses down on me, his body fitting mine perfectly. His mouth fuses with mine in a desperate, hot kiss that makes my toes curl. The crisp hair on his chest rubs against my nipples, and I whimper at the exquisite sensation.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers. His fingers dip between my legs and pull out the vibrator, and he positions the head of his penis at my opening. “You’re mine. Say it.”

  “I’m yours.”

  He plunges into me in a single, smooth stroke.

  “Ah!” I gasp, so full with him. He is enormous inside me, and my sensitive muscles tingle and adjust to him, wanting more.

  He pulls out slowly, dragging his cock against the swollen inner tissu
e. His gaze locks with mine, and I know what he wants.

  “I’m yours,” I say it again breathlessly. “Yours, yours, yours.”

  “Yes.” He drives into me, each thrust deeper and more powerful than the one before. Without breaking the rhythm, he puts my legs over his shoulders, opening me wide and vulnerable to him.

  I love it. I love how we are so closely connected in this moment. I love the pleasure twisting his handsome face, knowing I’m the one giving it to him.

  And more importantly I love him. I love his gentleness, his protectiveness, the way he thinks about others. The emotions swell inside me, and I can’t stop the flow of words. “I love you, Elliot.”

  His face grows taut, his gaze laser sharp and intense as he looks down at me. His fingers link with mine. I tighten my hold on him.

  The subtle change in the angle hits the sweet spot inside me, and the sensation is so intense I feel like I’m about to faint.

  He shifts just a tad bit, and his pubic bone grinds against my clit. I scream his name as white hot bliss burns through me. He lets out a wordless cry, then drives into me one final, rending time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Annabelle

  For the next five days, we just enjoy ourselves. Marco does a great job of arranging for snorkeling and all sorts of other requested activities. Elliot is incredibly attentive and sweet the entire time, and I can’t ask for anything more except…

  Elliot does not talk about the “I love you” and I don’t make a big deal about it either. I didn’t say it hoping that he’d say it back.

  Still, I’d be lying if I claimed it didn’t create a sharp pang in my heart. Every night, he pleasures me until I can’t stand it anymore, each wave of orgasm shattering me more and more until I can’t help but cry out my love for him. If he’d been a less attentive lover before, I’d think he was doing it on purpose, but he’s always been very thorough, so…

  “I can’t believe we’re going to be leaving soon,” I murmur over late breakfast in our suite on our sixth day. I’m sore but languid from our morning bout.

  “Tomorrow,” Elliot agrees, applying a healthy amount of jam on his toast.

  My phone buzzes. It’s Nonny again.

  “Your sister?” Elliot says.

  “Uh-huh. She’s just remembered another thing about the dinner.” She’s been texting me nonstop ever since she and Elizabeth visited Ryder’s mansion, telling me every little detail of the night.

  “You don’t look happy.”

  “I’m just worried. She puts way too much stock in this. Apparently she’s now one of the most popular girls in school.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Because she didn’t, you know, earn it.” The instant Ryder’s no longer in her orbit, people will dump her. As smart and mature as Nonny is, she is too young to really understand this. I certainly didn’t until it was too late.

  Elliot rolls his shoulders. “Eh, let her enjoy her moment. There’s no harm in it.”

  No harm except a crushing disappointment. I know that’s part of growing up, but it still bothers me that she’ll have to go through the pain. Sighing, I put the phone away. I shouldn’t let this mar my time with Elliot. He’s done so much to make it as wonderful as possible.

  “Thank you. This was a perfect week.” I munch on the croissant filled with dark chocolate. The pastry is so flaky and light, it feels like cotton candy dipped in chocolate in my mouth.

  “My pleasure, Belle.” He takes my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles softly. “It’s nice to see you happy.”

  I smile. “You make me happy, Elliot.”

  “So. What should we do on our last day in paradise?” He looks at me, his eyes hooded.

  “We are not spending the entire day in the bedroom,” I say with a suppressed laugh. “I want to work on my tan a little bit.” Unlike Elliot, I don’t tan well.

  “I don’t care what color your skin is. You always look hot.”

  I flush. “So do you.” I squeeze his hand. “So do you,” I say it again, almost helplessly.

  It’s hard to believe this magnificent man is mine. I don’t even know precisely why he chose me. When we met, I was a stripper, then a hired escort out of a birthday cake. Given what a great catch he is, he has his choice of women. Any one of them would’ve been happy to marry him so he could get the painting he wants. It didn’t have to be me—a college dropout with nothing.

  The romantic in me says my life is Cinderella, but unlike that poor heroine, I’m going to be richer than before when the clock strikes midnight.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing in particular.” I grin, then giggle. “Actually, that you’re too perfect.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.” Elliot is grave. “But I’m pretty close. Maybe half a percentage point off from perfection.”

  This time my laugh is genuine. “A whole half a percentage point?”

  “Well…I’m not naked at the moment.”

  I finish my latte. “Why don’t you put on your trunks and show off your prowess in the pool?”

  “The pool?”

  “I love watching you swim.” I rest my chin in my hand. “You look gorgeous when you swim.”

  A corner of his mouth quirks upward. “Very well, milady. Your wish is my command.”

  “You want to go to the main pool?” The central one is so much bigger than the private one in our villa. And because the resort is so exclusive it’s hardly ever crowded.

  “Oh ho. So now you want to show me off?”

  “Maybe I do. Anybody can admire you, but I’m the only one who can touch.” I stop, then flush at how possessive I sound.

  He flicks the tip of my nose. “Fair enough. That’s how I feel about you, too.”

  * * *

  Annabelle

  The main pool is huge, stretching through five major wings and sitting in front of the pristine beach. The staff scurries around, arranging the giant parasols and chairs and tables for guests to come. It’s still early enough that there aren’t that many people. Elliot and I take a couple of loungers between the beach and the pool; he takes off his white shirt, gives me a peck on my mouth and then he’s gone.

  Breathlessly I watch him, my lips tingling from the kiss. He dives into the pool like he was born in water.

  I strip out of my sheer wrap dress and kick off my flip-flops. The blue bikini Josephine sent is sexy without being too revealing. The exposed portion of my skin is about a shade darker than the one covered by the stretchy fabric. I sit back in the lounger and relax, occasionally ogling Elliot. Okay, frequently ogling him.

  I almost don’t notice when another woman claims the chair next to me.

  “Fancy seeing you here.”

  I stiffen at the familiar purring voice.

  Annabelle Underhill is seated, water beading on her toned body. She’s clad in one of the tiniest bikinis I’ve ever seen in my life. She must’ve been here for a few days judging by the dark shade of her golden, flawless skin. The sand on her feet says she’s been at the beach. Huge sunglasses hide her eyes, but her flushed lips are curved as though she’s secretly amused.

  How in the world is she at the same resort as me and Elliot? If it’s a coincidence, then fate is a cruel, cruel thing.

  “Vacation?” she asks.

  “Honeymoon,” I say.

  “Ah.” She lies back in her lounger. “You clean up well.”

  Her condescending tone raises my hackles, but I ignore her. I don’t want to get into a public argument with Elliot’s ex. Now I wish we’d locked ourselves in our villa.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “What is?” I say, almost unable to help myself and knowing that she won’t leave me alone until I talk to her.

  “You and him. You aren’t his type.”

  “True. I’m not a backstabbing bitch.”

  The smile starts to turn into a sneer, but she catches herself. “So he told you? It seemed like the right choice at the
time.” She speaks as though what she’s done is simply fashionable, the kind of thing an unsophisticated girl like me couldn’t possibly grasp.

  “Even if he hadn’t, I could’ve looked it up. Who the hell screws both son and father at the same time? Eww.” That may be a juvenile attitude in her world, but I don’t care. Survey anybody off the street, they’d have the same reaction.

  “You really think you’re that much better than me?” She tilts her head. “Do you know why he married you?”

  “For all the usual reasons men marry, I imagine.” Elliot wouldn’t want his traitorous ex-girlfriend-slash-ex-stepmom to know about his father’s messed up proposition.

  “He wants to humiliate his father with you, my dear. The Reeds may be new money, but they’re a good family, respected in high society.”

  The memory of the huge scene at the family dinner floods me, and I can’t help but stiffen. I don’t think I did anything too out of line, given what Julian’s wife pulled, but I’m sure my behavior was embarrassing.

  On the other hand, Elliot couldn’t have known I’d react like that or make things awkward with his father. He may be a billionaire prodigy, but he isn’t prescient.

  “Trust me. Who you are won’t stay a secret for long.” She smiles, her nose wrinkling.

  Normally I would dismiss a vague threat like that as empty talk, but she’s entirely too confident. With a sinking heart, I realize she must’ve looked me up and gotten the whole Ponzi scheme story. “What my father did has nothing to do with me,” I recite the familiar line.

  “Your father?” She bursts out laughing. “Who said anything about your father? It’s one thing to embarrass Julian, but what about your sister? She’ll die of humiliation, I imagine.”

  An older man in navy blue bathing trunks comes over. “What’s so funny, dear?” he asks. I can feel his speculative gaze even through the reflective shades on his face.

  “Nothing, my love.” She puts a hand on his thick forearm, and he sits down beside her.

  “Who’s this?”

  “My former stepson’s wife. They recently got married.” She gestures in no particular direction. “This is my husband Stanton.”