Temptation: a billionaire erotic romance

by Christine Elliott

“And this is your…” said Mr. Spencer.

  “Companion,” Val said smoothly.

  “You’re very lovely,” said Spencer warmly. He took Serena’s hand and kissed it, and red crept into her cheeks. She had no idea people did that in real life. Mr. Edwards greeted her with another, deeper bow. In the corner of the room, Ellen the head maid was stifling laughter at Serena’s awkwardness.

  “I think we should go to dinner now?” said Val, looping an arm around Serena. Serena frowned, confused by his sudden show of dominance, but then noticed Spencer, who was giving her a little too much eye. Well, that was something.

  Dinner was served in the main dining room, one equally as massive and awe-inspiring as every other room in the mansion. The full course dinner began with a small drink of brandy while Val spoke with the men. She was beginning to get a taste for it, thanks to Val’s obsession with good alcohol. Serena noticed that Edwards and Spencer were getting a bit red in the face, and wondered if Val had put a little something extra in their drinks. She wasn’t sure if she was more disapproving or impressed.

  By the time they started in on the delicate oyster appetizers, Spencer had begun discussing business with Val, leaving Serena bored out of her skull. She pressed a finger against the oyster, watching the filling spill out, desperate for a distraction. If only she was back in her bedroom, curled up with some tea and a book. It would be so—

  OH GOD.

  Serena jumped. The vibrator had buzzed back to life, totally silent but rocking Serena from the inside. She dug her fingers into her knee, desperately trying to sting herself back to normalcy. Spencer and Edwards remained oblivious, drunk and chatting away about some manager or boss or something. Only Val’s hand pressed subtly against his pocket let Serena know she wasn’t the only one aware of what was happening.

  The waiters appeared with the next course, a succulent roasted duck with a creamy risotto. Abruptly, the vibration stopped. Serena could feel sweat collecting on her brow.

  One of the waiters poured her a glass of wine. Serena reached out, threw her head back, and drank it all in one sip. Edwards looked at her sideways, but Spencer was too far gone in his ranting to Val. Serena swallowed hard.

  “So about your employer,” said Val pointedly to Edwards. “I understand you have a message for me.”

  Serena leaned forward, finally interested, but jumped again as the vibrator took off again. She leaned back, clutching the napkin in their lap for dear life, fighting back the orgasm that was creeping up on her. Oh God, Val was evil.

  “Of course,” said Edwards, ignoring his drunk partner. He reached down for a briefcase at his side and pulled out a paper, pushing across the table to Val. Serena squirmed in her seat, wishing she could jump out and run back to her bedroom. Val glanced over it.

  “So this is the offer he’s giving me?” He snorted. “Tell Harlow he can go fuck himself. He’s not getting a single cent of this business.”

  The vibrator increased in power. Serena bit down on her tongue.

  “You should reconsider,” said Edwards, his voice harder. “Mr. Harlow is not going to ask twice. This is the best deal you’ll be getting. You should not take this lightly.”

  “Serena,” said Val sweetly, completely innocent looking to anyone on the outside, “could you fetch us some sherry from the kitchen? I think we need to speak in private for a moment.”

  The vibrator stopped. Relieved, Serena stood, embarrassed at how wet she felt when she moved. As quickly as she could, she scurried to the kitchen, lifting up her skirts in order to move as quickly as possible. God knows Val could turn it on at any moment, and in these heels, she’d face plant into the floor in front of Edwards and Spencer.

  The sherry was on a counter in the kitchen, perfect and inviting, as if someone had placed it there on purpose. She frowned. Val really did plan ahead for everything.

  She began pouring glasses when she heard the sound of rising voices in the dining room. She wavered for a moment, trying to negotiate between her morals and curiosity. As always, curiosity won out. She crept to the door and pressed an ear against it.

  “And why do you think I’d give in?” she heard Val’s voice say.

  “He has the Belladonna plan,” said Edwards. “And he isn’t afraid to use it.”

  “Let him,” said Val. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “No, but you’ve got weaknesses. And we’ve figured out the biggest one of them all. Don’t pretend this means nothing to you, we see right through it.”

  “And why should I care?” Val’s voice said nonchalantly.

  “Because we can ruin your life in an instant, you fucking idiot,” slurred Spencer, completely drunk at this point. The sound of Edwards’ fist slamming the table made Serena jump, shaking the plate of glasses. Only a quick grab kept them from spilling sherry and broken glass across the floor.

  Edwards began to say something, but Val yelled something towards the kitchen, ignoring him. “Serena, darling, do you have those drinks?”

  Serena took a deep breath and walked out, carrying the drinks on the plate. Edwards and Spencer were already standing up, gathering themselves and readying themselves to leave.

  “I don’t think we’ll stay for drinks,” said Edwards coldly. “You would do well to talk some sense into your friend, Ms. Nicoletti. It was nice to meet you,” he spat.

  “Harlow sends his regards,” added Mr. Spencer, with a dangerous note in his voice. Edwards led him out, ignoring the servants who held the door for him.

  “I’d say that went quite well, wouldn’t you?” asked Val, standing up.

  Serena stood silent, not quite sure what to say.

  “Let’s go to your room, Serena,” he said pleasantly.

  “Alright.”

  Her knees buckled as the vibrator began rocking her again, harder this time than any other. Val smirked.

  “We’re back to ‘Yes, Sir’ and ‘No, Sir’ now, Serena.”

  “Y—yes S—s—sir,” she cried, stumbling after him in her heels, desperate. He led her into the bedroom, slowly increasing the intensity of the vibrator. He grinned when she collapsed on the bed, trembling under the force of the pleasure.

  Val fished the key out of his pocket. Carefully, he knelt down and unlocked the belt, slipping it off of Serena and running a hand around her white thighs. Val tossed the belt aside, spreading Serena’s legs wide open before him. He peeled her lace panties down, bringing them down to her knees. Then he carefully rang his tongue down her slit. Serena shuddered.

  “Would you like to cum, Serena?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” she gasped. Her hands clutched at the sheets, and she panted hard, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

  He hit another button on the vibrator’s control, and the power increased to its highest intensity. Serena moaned, unable to stop it. She crashed in a wave of pleasure, gasping and squirming underneath Val’s watchful gaze. Val crossed his arms, smirking as he watched Serena shudder and gasp to catch her breath, totally taken over by her orgasm.

  Finally, he turned away and began to put away the belt,. key, and control pad. Serena slid the vibrator out, convinced she would never do that again. (Though she knew she could never turn down Val if he asked her.) She wrapped her arms around her to fight the chill of the room, watching as Val took a seat.

  “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘in vino veritas,’ Serena?” He sat in her armchair, studying her again.

  “No, Sir.”

  “It’s Latin. It means ‘in wine, truth.’ Good advice.” He chuckled. “Especially in the case of Spencer.”

  Serena furrowed her brow, wrenching off one of her pumps and rubbing her feet. Tonight was too strange.

  “What was the truth that you learned tonight, Sir?”

  Val stared at the window, watching the night.

  “I think, Serena, we learned that things are far more serious than I thought they were.”

  *****

  Serena dressed again the next night with Ellen’s hel
p, this time in an evening gown of navy blue dotted with glittering jewels. That night was the grand ball that Val had arranged, a special occasion that would see every socialite and businessman worth their salt schmoozing on the dance floor. Spencer and Edwards would be back, as well as a few dozen of their associates. Serena was happy to discover that Jacques would be there as well (to help Val with the negotiations), and she looked forward to seeing him the rest of the day. At least one person there would be on her side.

  But more than that, she was looking forward to the Spencer and Edwards crowd. They knew something. It was something big, and she knew it. They were close to Harlow, and Harlow was planning something. Val was in trouble.

  In her head, she rationalized it by telling herself she was protecting her paycheck. If there was no Val to pay her, there was no pay, and if there was no pay, there was no way to get Harry out. She had to protect Val, otherwise how would she save Harry? It wasn’t anything personal, it was just financial.

  But in her heart, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Val was something special to her. Every time she imagined a world without Val, it hurt so much she wanted to curl up on her bed and cry. She was totally, pathetically his already. She couldn’t rationalize it, if she was honest with herself. This wasn’t about money, it was about Serena’s obsession with Val.

  Val was in danger, and he was too ridiculous to admit it. Ellen and Serena were the only ones who could keep him alive.

  The party began a little after eight, with paper lanterns lighting up the gardens in the front and black suited servants running around carrying plates of hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes. Ellen presided over them all with an iron fist, wearing her best red gown and ensuring that not a fork was out of place in the dining hall. Val was in the main ballroom, watching the guests file in with their dates on their arm. It was beautiful—the mansion looked like a fairytale castle, and Serena felt like Cinderella.

  Serena took a flute of champagne and sipped at it nervously, searching the crowd for someone she knew. If only she could find Jacques, she might feel comfortable. She could never feel scared or worried around him, especially with his terrible jokes polluting the conversation.

  “You look lovely,” a voice murmured behind her. She whipped around to see Val, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo with his hands clasped behind him. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes were shining as they looked down on her.

  “Good evening, Sir.”

  “No Sirs for tonight, Serena. Call me Val.”

  “Good evening … Val.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t use the vibrator tonight,” said Val, watching his guests pour in. “But some of these people I respect, unlike Spencer and Edwards. It would be dishonorable to include them in our little game.”

  “Yes, S—I mean Val.”

  A hand grabbed her ass, squeezing appreciatively. “We can save that for later tonight, darling.”

  Serena’s heart skipped a beat. Val walked off and melted into the crowd. He would be the death of her, she swore.

  Serena spent the night as a wallflower, avoiding the strange guests and sipping glass after glass of champagne. Val was busy talking to people—a famous opera soprano, a man who had invented some kind of bottle opener, a head chef of New York’s hottest restaurant—which left her alone with the booze. Once or twice she saw Jacques, dressed dashingly in his tuxedo, sweeping some young thing off her feet. It made her smile, but then made her frown, remembering the way Harry used to act the same foolish way at parties. She drowned her worries with more champagne.

  About midnight, she saw Spencer in the corner, downing another glass of sherry. It reminded her of the dinner and how quickly he had gotten drunk. But more importantly, it reminded her of the strange conversation she had overheard. And that gave her an idea. She chewed her lip, considering what she was about to do. It was unethical.

  But then again, in vino veritas.

  “Ellen,” Serena said, beckoning her with a finger. Ellen approached, her red skirts swishing in front of her. “Do you have something strong?”

  “Strong for you?”

  “No. Strong for him.” She pointed to the corner, where Spencer was grabbing himself another drink.

  “Ah,” said Ellen simply, as if she was used to this. “Don’t worry dear, I have something much better. Stay here, sweetie.”

  Serena kept her eyes on Spencer, watching him attempt to awkwardly flirt with a few women and fail miserably. She remembered the night before, when his stares had lingered just a few moments too long. She remembered how Val had reacted with such overprotective dominance. She smiled to herself. For the first time in forever, she may have a chance.

  “Here you are,” said Ellen, tapping her on the shoulder. She slipped into Serena’s hand a small plastic bag filled with a fine white powder. Serena’s fist closed over it, her heartbeat picking up. She hoped to God no one noticed.

  “My own concoction,” Ellen said, winking at her. “Mr. Marquette uses it quite often. Won’t quite put them out, but it’ll definitely put them out of their right mind. Make sure you only put a pinch in, though, unless you want them comatose.”

  “Thank you, Ellen.”

  “Of course, Ms. Nicoletti,” she said, reaching forward and kissing her on the cheek. Serena touched the place she had been kissed as Ellen gracefully floated away into the crowd. Some days she felt more like Ellen’s daughter-in-law than her boss’s slave. Strange, but she could save the wondering about what that meant for later. She had something more important to think about right now.

  Checking to make sure no one was watching, Serena grabbed a glass of sherry from a nearby table. Into it, she tapped a bit of powder, then swirled it around until the powder had totally dissolved. No one would be the wiser. She took a deep breath, then began to walk to Spencer.

  She tapped him on the shoulder lightly, and he turned a little too fast, losing his balance. Quickly, she grabbed his shoulder, helping him right himself.

  “Oh, pardon me!” he chuckled. “I must not be used to being around such lovely women. It puts me out of sorts.”

  Serena gave her best beauty pageant smile and laughed lightly, hoping to put on her best airhead voice. “No trouble! I’m not used to being around such handsome men.” She gave him a very unsubtle wink, and he seemed to take notice. She held out the glass. “Sherry, Mr. Spencer?”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, taking it from her and taking a long sip. “Valentine is very lucky to have such a wonderful woman on his arm.”

  “Oh no,” Serena cooed, surprised at how easy this came to her. “He may have me, but I’d say you’re even luckier. I mean, look at you! You’re such a successful businessman.” She worked the next few words over in her head, wondering how to introduce the subject of Harlow delicately. She gave up and decided to dive straight into it. “And especially so high up in your business. You must be close to your boss.”

  “Oh yes,” Spencer said, his face growing redder. “I am quite important, I suppose.” He puffed his chest out.

  Serena gave a vapid giggle and ran a finger down his arm. “What was his name again? You’ll have to forgive me, my memory is terrible. I’m such a scatterbrain.”

  “No, no trouble, especially for such a lovely woman,” he jabbered on. “I and Mr. Harlow are quite close, especially on the Belladonna deal.”

  “Really? What’s Belladonna?” she asked eagerly.

  Spencer paused, something about her demeanor getting through his drunk stupor. His eyes fixed on her, and he examined her up and down. Serena stopped. Shit. She had to put on the dumb girl disguise again.

  Serena cocked her head and began twirling her hair. She flashed him a brilliant, vacant smile. “Because it sounds so pretty, like a flower!” she gushed. “Or maybe a perfume!”

  Spencer’s eyes became blank again and he nodded, losing any suspicion he may have had.

  “It is a flower,” he said. Serena stopped, not sure if he was teasing her. But he was too bla
nk and drunk to lie. “Also known as Deadly Nightshade, but the name ‘Belladonna’ means ‘beautiful woman.’ Good name, no?” He took a swig of sherry. “You see, the Belladonna plant sprouts beautiful, juicy black berries. Very tempting, like a beautiful woman. But deadly, very deadly—a single bite, and you would be dead within the hour. It attracts you, then it kills you.”

  “Ah,” said Serena, not getting it.

  Spencer smiled. “It’s a quite apt description.”

  “How so?” said Serena.

  “Well—”

  “Spencer!” called someone. Edwards came marching out of the crowd, his expression furious. His glare was focused on Serena. “I called you earlier, I’m surprised you didn’t hear.”

  “Ah, my fault, I’m very sorry,” blathered Spencer. “I was busy talking to this charming creature.”

  “Yes,” spat Edwards, “I did see you speaking to Valentine’s whore.”

  Spencer stopped, then fixed his eyes on Serena. He focused on her, examining her like he was really seeing her for the first time. His eyes widened. “Oh, I—”

  “It’s nothing,” Edwards snarled. He grabbed his colleague’s arm and began dragging him away. “I’m sure Ian will love to hear about this.”

  Serena shivered when she saw the distraught look on Spencer’s face. As he walked away, he struck her strangely as looking as if he was walking off to the electric chair.

  The change in atmosphere got to her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, it was too hot and stuffy. Serena grabbed her skirts and began heading as fast as she could for the stairs to her bedroom. It was against Val’s orders, but she had to get out of here, especially with the way Spencer and Edwards had acted. Something was wrong, she knew it.

  When she reached her bedroom, she threw open the door and rushed it. She slammed it behind her, locking it and resting against the door. Her breath was fast and hard, and she tried desperately to slow it, afraid that someone might hear despite how ridiculous that was.

  Spencer had obviously told her something very, very important. She wasn’t supposed to have heard it. So what was it that she wasn’t supposed to have heard?