All In

by Simona Ahrnstedt

  She realized he’d intended to reassure her; he must be able to see how nervous she was, but it felt like an omen. If anything happened, no one would know where she was.

  She shook off the morbid thought and stepped out of the elevator when it stopped on the very top floor. David unlocked a heavy door and let her enter first. The door slid shut behind them without a sound. The whole building was like a silent, discreet, efficient machine.

  “Go straight in,” he said, pointing down the hallway. “I’m just going to go do something.”

  He disappeared up a steep, spiral stairway, and Natalia walked down the hall into the living room. She stopped on the threshold. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Stainless steel and black leather maybe. A big flat-screen TV and shelves full of DVDs. Masculine and nouveau riche.

  But this . . .

  Sturdy bookshelves stuffed with books, puffy sofas, warm colors, and thick rugs. No TV and a completely ordinary, analog sound system. Loads of classical music. A fireplace, burned-down candles. A little untidy, but clean and fresh and terribly cozy.

  David appeared behind her.

  “It’s so homey,” she said.

  “You sound surprised,” he laughed, and when Natalia turned around she saw that his arms were full of white terrycloth.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’re going all the way to the top.”

  She followed him up the stairs. The floor above was dominated by windows facing every direction. She glimpsed a bedroom. But what made her breath catch was the view.

  “Come on, we’re going even higher.” He went up another flight, and when they emerged onto the rooftop terrace, Natalia couldn’t help gaping.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  The view was mind-blowing. The peaks of roofs, the sky, the sunset, and the water. A wooden deck, deck chairs, palm trees in enormous pots. And in the middle—a sunken pool or Jacuzzi, kidney-shaped with turquoise water and recessed spotlights that glittered in the steaming water. “I never dreamed anyone lived like this,” she said reverently. It was perfection.

  “I brought you a bathrobe and a towel. I’ll open the wine while you get in.”

  She hesitated, but then started to undress. She unbuttoned her blouse, took off her skirt, panties, and bra and was then completely naked. David stood with his head discreetly turned away while she lowered herself into the water. It was heavenly. He turned around, smiled, and came over and leaned down to hand her a glass of wine. As she sipped it, he undressed. She watched him surreptitiously over the rim of her wineglass. She’d never fully appreciated the attractiveness of the male body before, but now she really did.

  Naked, he lowered himself into the water across from her.

  He drank some of his wine and watched her. His eyes surveyed her face and then moved down her body, which glowed white in the warm water. Natalia straightened a little so her breasts popped up, and she saw the hunger ignite in his eyes. Then he kissed her, hard. He took her glass from her and set it aside, and she wrapped both arms around him. His arm curled around her waist and he lifted her. He sat down on the underwater ledge and then placed her astride his knee. The warmth of the water, the alcohol in the wine, and the completely unsurpassed sensation of sitting out under the open sky and kissing wildly made Natalia’s head spin. He put a hand behind her head and she felt her hair come loose and fall down as she writhed in his lap. She rubbed against him. His hands stroked her hips; he held her against him while he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth.

  She moaned, could have come just from that.

  “So unbelievably sexy,” he murmured. Natalia moaned again, buried her fingers in his hair, pushed herself against his lips, his body, his erection. She didn’t know how long they kept that up, kissing and making out like teenagers, drinking wine and kissing again.

  “Let’s continue this on land,” David said hoarsely.

  The evening was warm, almost tropical, and she didn’t shiver at all when they left the pool. David was naked, but she wrapped a towel around herself before lying down on one of the deck chairs.

  He sat down next to her, unwrapping the towel from her so she lay completely naked. He put a hand over her sex, cupping her mons. “I love that you’re not waxed,” he murmured.

  She gasped as he took one of her legs and moved it up onto the armrest. She squirmed, aroused and embarrassed at the same time.

  “Shh,” he whispered, caressing the inside of her thigh as he placed her other leg up on the other armrest. “Relax, Natalia,” he murmured. “Trust me, I want to do this.”

  She thought she ought to protest. It was a vulnerable position; she was wide open and didn’t feel completely comfortable. But his voice was so convincing, his eyes so intense. Besides, her senses were dulled, so she leaned back, sank into the soft cushion and closed her eyes.

  He started tracing circles with his fingers and his mouth on the inside of her thigh, and she trembled. He caressed her and kissed her, but without really touching the spot she wanted him to touch. She started moving on the deck chair, restless and full of longing, but constrained by her position.

  He laid his hand on her stomach, spread out his fingers and palm, and pushed her down slightly onto the cushion. He gently kissed the crook of her knee and the inside of her thigh, and she moaned. His mouth traveled slowly and carefully.

  “David,” she said, frustrated in her arousal. She wondered if he was taunting her. She had never really had good experiences with this kind of thing, to be honest. Men were rarely as committed to it as they wanted to appear, and like most women she had suffered her share of uninspired oral sex.

  No sooner had she thought that than David did something with his mouth and finger that definitely was not aimless or uninspired. And when he kept doing it . . . Natalia had no idea just exactly what he was doing, but a level of lust so overpowering it felt almost unreal surged through her. And she thought she would die if he stopped.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, so close to coming that she had almost passed the point of no return where the waves just came when he stopped and she wailed, “No!”

  She opened her eyes. Saw her spread legs, saw him caressing her thighs very intently without looking into her eyes. He leaned his head down. She felt him spread her open with his fingers before he took her clitoris into his mouth and sucked. Her thighs shook, literally shook, and then he paused. She was breathing so hard that her throat was dry.

  He started slowly stroking her with one finger, in and out. “You’re so sexy,” he said, his voice raspy. “I could come just from licking you.”

  She heard a sound, a whimpering sound that must have come from her.

  “Do you want me to keep going?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. Yes!

  “Say it.”

  “Lick me,” she said, her voice cracking as his finger entered her again. “Please don’t stop, you have to keep going, I can’t take any more.”

  He stood up, quickly retrieved a wineglass, and then positioned himself between her legs again. Slowly he poured the wine over her belly. The cool liquid trickled down over her sex, and he leaned forward.

  David caught the wine with his mouth and tongue, drinking and lapping, enjoying how the taste of her and the chilled wine mixed. She was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He spread her open with two fingers. She was beautiful, glistening, and that scent. He let a finger slide into her, listening to the sounds she made.

  She was a tightly controlled woman, calm, collected. But like so many other capable, confident women, she was full of passion once finally enticed to relax her control. He felt her surrender herself to him, saw her spread her beautiful thighs and let him play with her.

  How he loved this, getting the serene Natalia De la Grip, countess and banking superstar, to quiver as she pleaded for him to go down on her. He was hard, had been since they had first sat down in the taxi, and all he wanted was to bury himself in her strong, quivering body, to take her until she
screamed his name.

  He could picture it.

  His finger was surrounded by her heat. She was tight, and he slid another finger in, stretching her gently, heard her gasping. She was so ready.

  He bent his fingers, searching and listening. She murmured something inaudible and he found it. He pushed on that soft spot with his fingers, bent down between her legs, covered her clitoris with his mouth, and sucked. Natalia exploded. He kept going while the orgasm shook her body. And he kept going until she started to come back down a little before slowly pulling back.

  She lay there with her eyes closed, her face relaxed, her hair a wild mass. She was arrestingly beautiful this way. He took a condom, ripped open the wrapper, and rolled it on. She was still lying completely still, one arm over her head, her other hand on her belly.

  He put his hand on his cock and guided it in. Her hips started moving and she opened her eyes. He was transfixed, looking into her golden eyes, didn’t look away for a millisecond, could see from her eyes that she enjoyed how he filled her. She was like warm silk around him, hot and wet, swollen following her orgasm. Actually he wanted to take her hard, selfishly, but he forced himself to be careful, not really knowing what she would accept or enjoy.

  Her eyes focused a little and she smiled at him, a smile that lit up her face. She moved slightly, her legs still over the armrests, gloriously open.

  “Is this alright?” he asked. “Is it uncomfortable? Should I put your legs down?”

  Her smile became bold. She moved a little, rocked her buttocks, unexpectedly curvy, soft, and very feminine. He had to be careful; otherwise he would come way too soon.

  She raised her legs from the armrests—she was as lithe as a cat, strong as a dancer—and wrapped them around his back so he was suddenly encircled by them. He started losing ground when her hoarse voice said, “Fuck me, David, hard.”

  She hadn’t talked like that before. It was as if another Natalia had taken her over, a freer, bolder Natalia who released all the raw sensuality and passion he had suspected she kept bridled below that cool, professional exterior.

  He thrust into her harder and she gasped. He did it again, the blood rushing to his cock, to her, to them. Again, harder. She blinked, raised her hips toward him, and he continued until he pumped into her so hard that he might have been concerned if he could have thought a single rational thought.

  She murmured something, but he didn’t hear what. Her nails tore at his back, her hands pulled him closer. David brought a hand between them. He stroked her, angled his hand, increased the pressure, and as she started to contract around him, as her long legs around his back squeezed tighter, he pushed himself deep into her and then exploded in an orgasm, a release that made everything go black. He didn’t want this to end. No, he wanted time to stand still, to just let him stay here, surrounded by her legs and her warmth and, yes, her cunt.

  And then Natalia’s legs started shaking uncontrollably, and David pulled out, afraid he might faint if he didn’t manage to sit up first. There was absolutely no blood in his head. He turned around, fell backward, and just breathed. Then he started laughing, a contented, satisfied, happy laugh, right out loud.

  Natalia listened to David’s laughter. She was completely limp. Not a single muscle would obey her. The sun caressed her body, and she moved lazily. “I’m going to be a nudist,” she murmured.

  She heard him laugh again, and his joy was contagious.

  She had come twice. She had never believed in all that stuff about multiple orgasms and g-spots and men who knew what they were doing, but now she was a real convert.

  David’s deep laughter, so outrageously sexy, the images of what they’d just done, aroused her again. She studied his body, realizing that just now it was insatiable. Could two people really have chemistry like this? Silly question, clearly they could.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I think I’m dead.”

  “Is there anything to eat in this evil venture capitalist’s lair?” she asked.

  She was ferociously hungry, famished. It was very draining to be a sex goddess.

  They ate well-seasoned little tapas-like things, turnovers and pies and rolls that smelled and tasted exotic.

  “My cleaning lady’s husband is a Persian chef,” David explained. “They live in the building and look after my apartment for me,” he said. “She cleans and does the laundry; he gives me leftovers.”

  “These are some leftovers,” she said.

  As the evening cooled down, David led her to his bedroom one floor down, where they made love again. He was tender and rough. And then considerate and then forceful again. She was insatiable and smiled at the thought that she, Natalia De la Grip, was going to be stiff and sore tomorrow, from sex.

  Afterward she lay completely still in his bed. All the bedding was clean and smelled nice, ironed and luxurious.

  “This is the best bed in the whole world,” she murmured.

  He lay next to her, stroking her skin. He pulled down the sheet she had just pulled up to her chin. He studied her body as if she were a painting, a work of art. She lifted her hand and ran one finger down his upper arm. He was so muscular, and he made her feel so sublimely feminine.

  “Did you always know you wanted to work in corporate finance?” he asked, and started stroking her hair, disentangling as he separated the locks across the pillow.

  “I decided in London.” She lay still, letting him attend to her. From time to time he kissed her, on the arm, on the shoulder.

  “After the School of Economics?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes. After she got her degree, she had worked in New York for a year as a consultant. After that she had gone to Philadelphia and gotten an MBA from Wharton, the school that had educated some of the world’s leading financial minds. And then the whole world had been open to her. She knew that David had gone to Harvard. But while her father had paid for her education, David must have paid his own way. She had never wondered what an education like that cost, never really thought about how much she had gotten for free.

  “And then?” David’s voice was just a low, sensual murmur, and she realized she had drifted off. Her hair was now spread out around her.

  She opened her eyes. “The Bank of London headhunted me.”

  “They only recruit the best.”

  “Yes.”

  She had put in a few dog years in London, along with other promising young finance people. They worked around the clock, were owned by the bank, could be sent anywhere in the world at one hour’s notice. A lot of them had jumped ship, fed up with the inhuman demands, but she’d loved it, loved finally being able to utilize all her abilities, being encouraged, being challenged, feeling like she was good at what she did. “I’m sure you know that more than ninety percent of the corporate finance world is men, right?” she said.

  “No,” he said, sliding his finger all the way from her neck down to her stomach. “I thought there was more gender equality than that.”

  “It starts out very equal, but the women disappear as you go along.”

  “Some people say that’s because women are too smart to want to work that much,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing her fingers, one by one.

  “And other people say it’s because women can’t deal with hard work by their very nature,” she retorted. “That what they want most of all is someone to take care of them.”

  She wondered how many times she’d heard her father say those exact words. And her mother always nodded in agreement. And said that gender equality had gone too far when women wanted to be exactly the same as men. And that that was why Jonas had left her, because she worked like a man.

  “That’s bullshit,” David said. “The best women work twice as hard as the best men. It’s going to change. I met some smart girls when I was teaching at the School of Economics. And more and more companies are waking up to the idea that women constitute a recruiting base they can’t afford to overlook.”


  David sounded as if everything he was saying was irrefutable, and something happened in Natalia as she realized she had never before talked to a man who actually, truly thought the way she did, who didn’t distinguish between female and male. It was a huge turn-on.

  “When I was growing up, I used to love to talk about business and the family company,” she said. “I used to force my brothers to debate different strategies for Investum. They hated it.”

  David picked up her hand and smelled her palm. “And why aren’t you working at Investum now?” he murmured.

  “I want to prove myself first on my own merits,” she replied mechanically.

  And if I can just show that I’m good enough, then Daddy will have to ask me.

  He turned her hand over, kissed the back of it, nibbling a little. “And then you came back to Stockholm.” He smiled. “Two years ago.”

  Natalia nodded; that information was no secret, just required a little Googling.

  “J-O was hired on here to lead the Swedish office, and he brought me along.” She’d moved from her apartment in London, which she’d shared with people she hardly ever saw because she spent so much of her time working and traveling. She and Jonas had gotten engaged in London; he’d commuted by plane from Sweden.

  “My fiancé at the time lived in Stockholm.”

  “Not now?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “Uh, no. I wouldn’t be here if there was someone else.” That question worried her a little. She had assumed David was single, but now she remembered with discomfort that she’d seen a picture in a gold frame of a beautiful blonde in his living room, a very attractive woman with the arm of a happy-looking David Hammar around her shoulders. It was common knowledge that David didn’t have any family. Apparently he’d had a sister, but she’d died young in some accident, and his parents were dead. So who was that blond woman? And who—or what—was Natalia, herself, to him? Was she just David Hammar’s little summer vacation fling while his beautiful blonde was off doing—what?