Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “Jennifer, how did you and Jefferson meet?” I ask to change the subject.

  She glows when she talks about him, and I love seeing them look deep into each other’s eyes. They’re head over heels in love. Once she’s done with her story, she deflects to Monica and Owen, and they are quick to share their story.

  “When are you two getting married?” William asks. “I want to be there.”

  “We won’t be getting married,” Monica says. “I know it seems crazy, but my mother married six times, and not only do I not have a good reference, but things are good as they are. We’re happy with our relationship. We can have kids and do what everyone does without a piece of paper.”

  I nod. I know a lot of people who say that.

  “I support you,” William says, “but I’d still like to take him out for a good bachelor party. Get him nice and drunk and in a bit of trouble.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” I warn Owen.

  “He’s only saying that because he’s worried I’m going to do that for him, which I fully intend to do.” Owen gives William a warning look.

  “We haven’t set a date,” I share.

  “I hope you’ll do it here at the Rittenhouse,” Jennifer says.

  “We still have a few things to work out,” I tell them.

  “Pish, pish,” Jennifer discounts. “When you know, you know. You two know.”

  I’m a bit taken aback. I could see myself with William for a while, but I don’t know about forever. The longest boyfriend I’ve ever had was Mason, and that was two years, and look at how that ended.

  Dinner begins to break up, and I hug Jennifer and Monica goodbye before we head up to our room. I feel like I’ve made two good friends. “I like your friends.”

  “They like you.” He backs me into the corner of the elevator, kissing me deeply as he lifts my skirt and slips his hands in my panties, immediately going for my special spot. “You’re wet.”

  I nod. “You have no idea how hard it was to sit next to you all night and want you to bend me over the table and fuck me hard and fast from behind with them watching.”

  “You want to be watched?” He’s excited at the prospect.

  I giggle. “Not particularly, but you do something to me that makes me want to fuck you, and I don’t care who sees.”

  “I feel the same way.” The elevator stops, and he sucks my juices from his fingers. “I don’t think we’re going to get much sleep tonight.” He shuts the door to our suite behind him, and our lips crash together.

  He unzips the back of my dress, and it falls into a pool on the floor. I start to slip out of my stiletto sandals, but he stops me.

  “Leave those on.”

  I’m standing in a sexy pair of white silk panties and matching bra. Feeling self-conscious, I start to cross my arms over myself, but he grabs my arms and opens them wide, taking in a long look. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I look down and turn crimson. I’ve rarely ever heard that before. I step forward and kiss him. Right now I want him inside me. Not wasting any time, I undo his belt and slide his pants off. His erection tents in his boxer shorts, and I start to get on my knees, but he stops me. “Tonight is going to be all about you.”

  He unbuttons his shirt, watching me as he does each button, and I quiver with anticipation. Dropping the shirt to the floor with the rest of our clothes, he grabs me by the hand and leads me to his bedroom. He sits on the bed with me standing between his legs. He takes a big sniff. “You smell so good.” Leaning forward, he kisses and licks at my breast over the silk while his hands reach around me, unhooking my bra and releasing my generous breasts. He attacks one nipple with his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking the nipple deep into his mouth while his hand pulls and pinches the other. Moaning my appreciation, I try to get on my knees again, and instead he insists, “Lie down on the bed. I’d like to give you a massage.”

  I comply, and he focuses mainly on my back, chest, and hips. He avoids my sex, and the touch is making me more and more eager for him to be inside me. Gradually, he works the tension out of me.

  I roll over, feeling relaxed and like jelly, and his hands slip lower, his fingers running over the smooth spot between my legs. His teasing only increases my need. I groan softly.

  “I feel like I'm going to just... melt.”

  “Can I touch you?” he asks.

  “God... yes, please touch me.” I open my legs wide to give him plenty of access.

  With the lightest of touch, he runs his fingers at the edge of my slit. I gasp at his touch. My hips move up to meet his caress, wishing for more.

  He delicately slides his hand up and down, one finger on each side of my wanting and wet opening. My breathing gets heavier.

  “William... I think you're going to make me.... Keep doing that....”

  As his hand reaches the top of its arc each time, he squeezes his fingers together, just enough to tease and trap my clit for a moment. Then he releases it and runs his fingers back down, varying the speed each time so I can never quite know when that pressure would be back, keeping me on edge and begging for more.

  With his other hand, he gently toys with my nipple, making it hard and wanting.

  “Oh... this is so much better.... I had no idea....”

  He pushes one of his fingers between my legs more firmly downwards, forcing my lips open and running the finger lightly up and down through the slickness.

  “Have you played with yourself while you've been here?” he whispers into my ear. “Have you laid on your bed and made yourself come?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “Did you think about me?”

  “Yes... I thought about the first time you listened to me having phone sex and what it did to you.... When you told me what it did to you... I knew then I wanted to get you to... fuck me. I just needed to... figure out how....”

  “I wanted to fuck you long before I heard that. But hearing your naughty voice did me in,” he murmurs. “My fingers are on your wet pussy, and soon I'm going to slide myself into you and feel how tight you are.”

  “Yes... I want you to do that.”

  He tips his finger inside me and rubs at that special spot, causing me to jump.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yes... that's... really nice. God, I'm so wet. I can't believe how wet you make me.”

  He slowly and ever so gently fucks me with the tip of his finger. He puts the finger in his mouth, and I watch, my chest heaving, and I’m breathless.

  “It's delicious,” he says. “I want to taste you with my tongue.”

  “God… William... you can do whatever you want to me... just please do something. You're driving me crazy.” I start playing with my nipples, pulling and stretching them.

  He slides down the length of my body until his head is just below my waist, and I spread my legs a little wider apart to give him room to get comfortable. His tongue starts at the top of my inner thigh and moves upward at a leisurely pace. “I love that you’re so smooth.” Then he travels back down the other side. While he does this, he teases my opening with his finger, pushing my lips open and then together again, entering me briefly and then retreating again. I can hardly stand it, and I grip the sheets.

  He bows his head lower and runs his tongue up the length of my entrance.

  “Oh, Jesus... nobody's ever done that. That feels amazing.”

  He licks his way around me carefully, just delicately flicking his tongue over my hot spot once or twice but focusing most of his attention around my labia and thighs. His fingers and hands remain busy, stroking and playing with me constantly. I’m lost in my own euphoric world, eyes closed, occasionally pushing my hips upward to grind myself a little more firmly into his face.

  “Quinn,” he says. “I'd like to fuck you now.”

  “Oh God, yes, please, William. That was incredible, but I really want you inside me.”

  He moves away and grabs a condom from somewhere before sheathing himself.
It’s so big, and it makes me nervous. I’m still a little sore from earlier. Moving over my body, he rests above me, looking down into my eyes.

  “Put your hand around me,” he says. “Make me wet as well.”

  Stroking myself, I coat my hand with my own wetness and then begin to stroke him before guiding him to my entrance.

  I gasp as I stretch to accommodate him. “You're already good for me. Now please let me fuck you or I think I might explode,” he groans.

  I smile, and we push our bodies closer together, fully seating him deep inside me. It’s a tight fit, and I’m not sure I can take any more. He slowly backs out and then moves back in again, picking up speed. The only sound heard is the slick noise of two bodies colliding again and again.

  “Oh God, William... that is just... oh yes!”

  I shudder and quickly wrap my arms around him. “Just let me feel you like that... for a second... oh yes... don't move... oh God!”

  A tremor courses through me, and I cry out. “Oh fuck!” I gasp. “Oh that's... oh fuck! Oh God, William, you made me come through penetration.”

  He has a smile of complete satisfaction as he watches me ride out my pleasure for a few moments before kissing me softly.

  “You're the first person to make me come through penetration, do you know that? I've always had to... do it through direct stimulation. Holy shit… that was amazing.”

  “You’re incredibly responsive.”

  I gasp again. “Oh God, I loved that. And you feel so big inside me. You hit my G-spot perfectly. I just... God, I just want to stay like this forever.”

  He kisses me again. “That sounds nice, but I was hoping it was my turn next.”

  “Oh, yes... fuck me, William. Do whatever you want. I want you to fill me with your seed,” I say, grinning wickedly, knowing how much he loves it when I talk dirty.

  “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” He pushes back inside me, picking up a steady rhythm, concentrating on his own orgasm. Moving my body with his, I feel my own orgasm begin to build again.

  “Fuck me, William. I'm going to come again.” My hand moves to my clit, and he gives me the room to rub.

  My muscles contract hard on his cock. “So close now...,” he grunts. “Just want to feel you come again. Come on my cock, Quinn.”

  I groan again and again, the tremors rippling through me, my pussy milking his cock, and together we come.

  “Quinn,” he calls as he spurts deep inside me.

  We’re both satiated, and he collapses on me, breathing heavy, my pussy a vice not willing to let him go. “Holy shit, that was incredible,” I whisper. “You're all mine now—for a while at least.”

  My pussy finally lets him go, and he gets out of bed and throws out the used condom before joining me in bed again and holding me tight. We fall asleep in postcoital bliss.

  Chapter seventeen

  William

  I wake slowly with my body intertwined with Quinn’s. The light is peeking through the blackout curtains of the hotel room. I loved last night. Quinn was incredibly responsive, and I love the way she really seemed to blossom and become more comfortable and confident as we continued. Usually, I’m more a get in and get out kind of guy, but for some reason, last night I wanted to enjoy myself with Quinn and take is slow. It was worth it too.

  I need coffee. My head is pounding, probably from the lack of sleep, but I’m going to pretend it’s just the lack of caffeine. I carefully extract myself from Quinn. She’s sleeping far too peacefully in our bed—yes, it’s our bed. The thought brings a smile to my face. Eventually, I’m going to need to think about all these strange new feelings that I’m experiencing for the first time in my life.

  I walk into the living room and fire up my computer to see what’s going on. There’s an email from Henry explaining a few things that I need to get done for the estate. He also included a spreadsheet covering the details and expenses of the house. Everything looks somewhat copacetic, but it’ll take some looking it over eventually. It’s a seven thousand plus square foot house built in the 1800s, and it probably keeps in more of the cold than it keeps out. I remember the drafts that my mother used to complain about.

  My cell phone rings, and I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a local number. Figuring it might be the auditor, I answer. “William Bettencourt.”

  “Mr. Bettencourt? This is Agent Michael McGraw with the Federal Bureau of Investigations.”

  “Yes, Agent McGraw? What can I do for you?”

  “We were wondering if we could come by and meet with you this morning?”

  Why would the FBI be calling me? “What is this in regard to?” I ask, wanting to tell them I’m not interested, but curiosity gets the better of me.

  “This is in regard to your father.”

  I stop short. My father? What has Lillian done?

  “We can meet at my lawyers, Henry Gray’s office. He’s at Gray, Wilcox, and Holmes.”

  “We’ll meet you there at eleven.”

  “What’s your number, Agent McGraw? In case there’s a conflict or we need to change venues?”

  He recites a number, and I write it down on a scrap piece of paper.

  I disconnect the call, and when I look up, I see Quinn standing there, her hair a matted mess, and she’s wearing my shirt from last night. All the blood in my head rushes down to my cock. She looks beautiful, and I’d like to go back and join her in bed.

  “Who was that?” she asks.

  “It seems the FBI wants to talk to me about my father.”

  “What do you think that could be about?”

  “They didn’t say, and I’m curious.” I put a call into Henry and let them know that the FBI is calling about my father and that I’ve asked them to meet at his office at eleven and ask if he could join me. Thankfully, he agrees and suggests bringing the white-collar attorney in their offices who has dealt with my dad as well.

  I look at Quinn. “Well, it looks like we’re all set. I would’ve much preferred time with you in bed, or the floor… maybe the dining room table, or pushed up against the couch.”

  She blushes, and I wonder if she’ll always be embarrassed that she enjoys sex. Her shyness is beautiful. “Well, we’ll still have lots of time later, it’s not like we’re rushing back to San Francisco. We have a few more days here.”

  “I’m hoping this last longer than just here. This has been rather nice.”

  She smiles but doesn’t say a thing, and it sticks with me for half a second that she doesn’t agree, but I keep moving on. I call Gerald and let him know when we’re looking to leave.

  Quinn asks, “Would you prefer I stay here? I have no problem being here alone. I have plenty of work to occupy me.”

  “No, please join me. I’d love your company and support today. Maybe afterward we can go out for a nice lunch and do some exploring around Philadelphia. Independence Hall is really quite spectacular.”

  “Do I have time to shower and get ready? I’d hate to show up smelling like sex.”

  “You smell like a rose. But yes, you have plenty of time. We can head out just before eleven.”

  She disappears into the bathroom, and it takes all my willpower to not follow behind her like a dog in heat. She emerges smelling amazing and looking beautiful.

  She throws her computer in her bag and says, “I’m ready when you are.”

  I really like that she’s always so accommodating but yet able to stand up for herself when necessary.

  On the drive over, I see the trees in the downtown area as people walk with a spring to their step and enjoy a little bit of sunshine after what was a long, cold winter. My thoughts keep drifting to my father, and I can’t help but wonder what the hell he got himself into. “Gerald, when we get there, can you make a few calls and find out if our people have learned anything about the accident and any remains? It just seems odd that they don’t have anything to report at this point. “Please text me if you learn anything new.”

  “Yes, sir. No
t a problem. I’ll get that taken care of.”

  When we arrive at Henry’s office, Gerald opens the car door, and we get out. I spot two Lincoln Continentals with government plates, and I’m sure the FBI is already here and waiting. It is twenty minutes to eleven, which piques my curiosity further.

  The receptionist lets us know that they’ve arrived and they’re waiting in the conference room.

  Henry joins us, and a short, stout woman with warm eyes follows quickly behind him. “I’d like you to meet Marie Abraham. She worked with your dad on criminal defense work.”

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Your father has told me a lot about you. He was very proud of you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. Do you know why they’re here?”

  “I don’t really have any idea what this could be regarding. We were dealing with some issues with his company, but I can’t see why they’d want to meet with you. It was regarding some union issues.”

  “Could Lillian have done something?”

  “That’s not likely,” Henry assures me.

  “Let’s play this cautiously,” Marie says, then proceeds to map out our plan for meeting with the FBI. “We want them to do most of the sharing, and we want to do most of the listening.”

  The four of us walk into the conference room, and Marie introduces me, Quinn, and Henry. We sit down, and I quickly realize Marie’s familiar with both of the agents.

  Before they start, I ask, “Did you both come together?”

  “Yes, we came together,” Agent McGraw says with a puzzled look.

  “Then where are the other two agents?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I noticed two cars out front. I was just curious.”

  “We are executing a search warrant on your father's house at this time.”

  “Technically, it’s my home and has been for almost ten years.” That still doesn’t tell me where the other two agents are, but I smile brightly. “That must just be sending my stepmother, Lillian, over the edge.”

  They continue. “We’ve also executed a search warrant of your father’s offices.”