Billion Dollar Murder: Single Daddy Billionaire Mystery Romance

by Sloane Peterson

  “Should I not have said anything?” he asked. “I'll stop right now if you're uncomfortable. Just forget I ever said anything, and I swear, this won't change anything whatsoever between us as far as I'm concerned.”

  It was me that ended up laughing. Here he was. A man who was worth more than I ever would be in a dozen lifetimes. The world at his feet. Any woman he wanted likely willing to eat right out of his hands if he asked them to. And he was so afraid, so nervous about telling me how he felt about me. Like his hesitation wasn't already a loud and clear indicator of that.

  It was such a gratifying feeling, knowing that I'd made a man like that feel the way that he did.

  “I'm not uncomfortable,” I said softly. I fixed him with the gentlest, sweetest pair of eyes I could muster, and he seemed to calm down some when he looked up at them, his defenses falling.

  “Oh,” he said, then he cleared his throat. “Well, then... I'm glad... Because the truth is, Veronica. In the time since you've started working here, you've been driving me a little bit crazy. In the best possible way. Everything about you, it- it just mesmerizes me. You fill something in me. Something that I feel like I've been missing for a while now. And maybe it's too soon, in a lot of ways, to take it as seriously as I might be. I mean, I have no idea whether you even remotely feel the same way about me. But I feel like- like I don't know. Like I just needed to tell you, I guess. However you feel about it. And-”

  I stopped him at this point. I hadn't been planning to. It just happened.

  My lips were against his.

  I'd practically leapt across the couch to him, placing my hands on his shoulders, and drawing on him. Long. Slow. Deep. My heart fluttering. His lips delicious, making my toes curl, and my ears ring. His whole body was stiff for a moment, I think mainly because I'd caught him so unprepared. But then his shoulders slackened. His muscles grew loose. He sighed through his nose, and I felt his warm breath against my skin, giving me goosebumps.

  I felt like I couldn't let go of him. Like I couldn't pull away, as improper as this was, and as hard as it was becoming for me to breathe. He didn't seem to mind, though. He brought his hands up to the sides of my face, stretching his palms out over my cheeks, holding me so gently.

  It was such a delicate kiss. No tongue. No funny business. And yet it seemed to go on for so long. To stretch so endlessly as we sat there across from one another, lost in the heat of the moment.

  Finally we separated. My chest was heaving, and sweat was standing out on my neck. I'm pretty sure my eyes were bugging too, like I was more surprised that I'd done that than even he was.

  “I'm so sorry,” I said. “I don't know what came over me...”

  He grinned. “Do I look disappointed to you?” he asked.

  I smiled back at him. “Well, no. Not really.”

  He laughed. “Should I take this to mean, then,” he said, gently pushing a strand of hair from my eyes, “That you might feel a little bit the same toward me as I feel about you?”

  “It's a possibility,” I said shyly, feeling like a teenager, the way he so often made me feel.

  “Well, then... I'm glad to hear we're on the same page.”

  We stared at one another for a long moment. Like there was so much more that needed to be said, but we couldn't quite find the words to say it. Then we kissed again. Or, he kissed me again, and I wasn't about to pull away from him.

  It was even better this time. Hotter. Steamier.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him by the midriff. My back felt like it was about to erupt in flames at his touch, and at this point I wanted nothing more in the world than to let him consume me.

  His palms shimmied up and down along my spine, and his tongue pushed deep into my mouth, sliding in gentle circles around my cheeks. I let out the most feminine of whimpers, my shoulders tensing up, my body pressing in toward him as a demonstration of my need.

  I kept expecting him to take charge. To exert his control over me, and show me who was quite literally the boss. But I simply couldn't seem to stop myself from clambering all over him. Climbing up onto his warm, solid body, sliding my hands across his chest, loving the steady thumping against my palm every time I pressed against his heart.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered to me, as I leaned further and further into him.

  “Hell no,” I said between violent intakes of air, barely able to stay in control of myself. “But don't stop...”

  Before I knew it, I was on top of him. Straddling him there on the couch, so turned on that I didn't think I could ever be turned off again. At least, not until I'd gotten what I wanted out of him. What I so truly, desperately needed from him in that moment.

  His hands slid up along the back of my shirt, untucking it from my skirt so that his palms seared the bare flesh of my naked spine. I let out an earnest whimper, my jaw trembling as the goosebumps spread across my entire body, my nipples hardening against his chest as it rose and fell against me.

  Practically dying for it at this point I reached out and began unbuttoning his dress shirt with one hand, loving each new inch of bare flesh visible to me as I stripped him to his core. With my other hand, I reached down between the two of us and grabbed at him, thinking even as I did it that it was a step too far too fast, but deciding that I really didn't give a damn.

  He was as hard as I expected he would be as I wrapped my fingers tight around him, pressing his cock through the fabric of his dress pants and loving the way it kept getting harder and harder against my fingertips. He groaned with pleasure, and shook beneath me. Then before I knew it his hands were on me again, this time on my upper arms, though not with any of the tenderness or affection I might have hoped for.

  Instead of caressing me, or pulling me closer, he was pushing me back, nearly giving me whiplash as my head jerked up away from him.

  “God, I'm sorry. Too far?”

  “No. No,” he said, shaking his head. “Just... Not here.”

  “Oh?” I said, relieved, but not understanding his objections. “Where then?”

  He smiled at me. He slid his legs out from beneath my weight, and set his feet down onto the floor, steadying his weight. Then he surprised me, by lifting me up into his arms, pulling me close to his body and carrying me from the sofa to the stairs.

  We kissed the entire way up as he carried me along, my arms wrapped around his neck, my body cradled so gently in his arms that I thought I knew how Julie must feel every time that he held her.

  We were in his bedroom before I knew it, every inch of me burning for him. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He placed me down on the bed and I lay there, looking down along my body at him.

  “This is much better,” he said, and peeled the dangling remnants of his sweat soaked shirt away from his chiseled musculature. I gazed, unashamedly open-mouthed, at his sculpted pectoral muscles. The glorious rungs of his six-pack abs, and the sweeping, unexpected arrow of his Adonis muscles.

  He smiled at my reaction, clearly pleased at how wide my eyes and my mouth both were at that moment. To top this off he unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them, and pulled them down along the course of his body. He had on a tight black pair of underwear beneath, an unmistakable erection pressing its imprint against the fabric, and a dark pool of his desire seeping through at the tip.

  “Do you like what you see?” he asked, and I nodded at him, fixing him with my darkest bedroom eyes.

  “I just hope you do too...” I said, and he stepped toward me, that perfect body getting nearer and nearer, and my head getting lighter and lighter.

  “I'll be the judge of that.” he said.

  Then he climbed up on top of me on the bed. He pinned my hands up over my head against the mattress, and kissed my face. My neck. My shoulders. My clavicle. Everywhere but my lips, as starving for him as I was becoming at this point.

  He peeled me out of my shirt, and immediately put his hands to my chest. He pushed up on my breasts, kneading them
through the cups of my bra, and causing the straps to sink down along my shoulders. I let out a perfect little whimper that must have set him off just right. He put his lips in the center of my chest and ran his tongue along my cleavage, then pushed the cups of my bra down, exposing my nipples for his viewing- and tasting- pleasure.

  He took them in his fingers, and squeezed on the tender flesh. I moaned, and worked my body up into him. He pulled back, and twisted, and got my heart racing faster and faster, taking me to heights I might never come down from again. Every touch, every move he made got me wanting it more and more.

  Then he opened his mouth, and pushed it up against my left breast. I closed my eyes, gasping, and felt the warmth of his mouth dissolving around me. The firmness of his teeth sinking into me, leaving an unmistakable impression.

  “Oh yes... Yes...” I gasped to him.

  The tighter he bit down, the more firmly his fingers sank into the opposite breast, and I felt like I might just melt against his grip at any moment. He pulled back slowly on me, stretching me out between his teeth, and just when I thought it would be too much for me, he let go. The flesh fell softly back into place, and I let out a shuddering gasp, my eyes wide with sensation.

  “You like that, don't you?” he asked redundantly. I was too high on him right now to even think about answering.

  He alternated between my breasts, taking it slow, moving from one side to the other and back again, getting me so worked up for him that I almost couldn't stand it. Then, in the middle of it all, I felt one of his hands sinking down along the front of my body. He pushed into my skirt, and reached down across the lace of my lingerie.

  “Just stop me if I go too far,” he whispered to me. At this point I didn't think there was any possible danger of that happening, and if there was I would be far too dumbstruck by the time he actually made it there.

  He reached between my legs, and gently moved my panties out of the way. He reached out to me, then, and gently stroked my wetness. Like he was admiring just how badly I wanted it. How much I needed it. His touch so delicate, yet so intense, and my arousal growing worse and worse with every move of his fingertips over the silky perimeter of my vulva.

  “I think someone's a naughty girl,” he said with a sneer, his breath blowing hot against my neck.

  “Fuck I want you so bad,” I gasped, in a single breath, well aware that this was exactly what he wanted to hear.

  He shoved his fingers up inside me without further delay. I squeaked. I tensed up. His fingers drove up higher and higher, and I almost couldn't take it. But then he relented. I relaxed. I let out an exhausted sigh, my eyelids fluttering as he pulled away from me, grinning.

  “That's it,” he said. “Nice and easy...”

  He alternated between firmness and gentility. Pushing his fingers softly up inside, pulling them so tenderly back out again. Working me up to it, letting me relax, then causing me to want more, and more, and more of him as his pace intensified.

  “Yes... Yes... Oh God yes...”

  Sometimes he would laugh at me. Amused by my shrieks. My gasps. My inability to control myself with his fingers inside me. It was so cruel, and yet it made me want him so much more. Feeling so helpless, so delicate in his grip. I never wanted to stop. Ever.

  He pushed faster, and harder, and deeper. His hand began to slap against my body as his fingers thrust inside, and my cries quickly deteriorated into a long, drawn out moan of ecstasy.

  There was only so much of this a girl could take- and yet I found myself wanting more, and more, and more of it...

  He drove me right up to the brink. Just to the point where I thought it was inevitable, and I knew, I knew that climax was just around the corner.

  And then he stopped.

  He pulled back dangerously, a sharp withdrawal that nearly gave me a heart attack.

  I lurched forward from the bed like I'd just been in a car crash, gasping and panting for my breath, my entire body trembling as I tried to settle myself back down again.

  Why the hell had he stopped, I wondered, but I was too breathless to even begin to ask him.

  He was smiling at me, though. Fixing me with his eyes, like he had me exactly where he wanted me, and he and I both knew it.

  I swallowed hard waiting for whatever torture, whatever beautiful torment, he might have in mind for me next. He reached out to me, and I saw how wet his fingers were from being inside me. And then, as he brought them up to my lips, I thought I knew exactly what it was he had in mind for me next.

  I closed my eyes as he pushed his fingers into my mouth. I took a deep breath, savoring myself on him, so sweet and delicate and light. It made me feel so dirty, and yet so intimate with him, and I loved every second of it.

  Gently I opened up my eyes, and it only took one look at that smile of his to know I was in for something special.

  “How do you taste?” he asked me.

  “Good,” I said, my cheeks red hot as I said it.

  “I better find out for myself then...” he said.

  Then he pulled down my skirt.

  He gently slid the lace of my panties down along my body, moving them across my thighs, to my knees, down to around my ankles. Instinctively I pushed my legs together, like I had something to hide from him, so that all he could see was the soft white triangle of flesh, pointing him to where he wanted to go. Like he hadn't just been all up inside me, giving me exactly what I wanted in far greater quantities than I could stand.

  He ran his hands up along my thighs, making me tremble on the bed as he rose along to my knees. His fingers curled in against my kneecaps, and very gently he opened me up, spreading my legs. A revelation I was only too happy to indulge for him.

  I sighed as I felt myself being exposed to him. My pussy glistening as it burned for him, the wet, floral folds looking like the most savory of delicacies to the man gazing down at me. He grinned, and gave me a last, dark look. Then he drew his body in. I felt the heat of his breath inside me. He kissed me.

  I wanted to scream.

  That beautiful head of jet black hair pressed hard against my body. His lips melting against me, making me feel like the most wanted woman in the world. His tongue lapped around my trembling vulva, moving around and around, building up the tension as my patience grew thinner and thinner. Then he pushed it inside me, and I did scream, just a little bit. His warm tongue making me blush, for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. It slipped and writhed around the inner walls of my body, eating me up like I was the only thing that could possibly satisfy his hunger.

  I hoped this was true. But whether it was or not, I knew for a fact that he was the only thing in the world that could satisfy mine.

  I closed my eyes and lay there, taking it. Gasping. Moaning. Feeling the fire in my loins and in my belly, his tongue bringing out an itch that couldn't be scratched, except by him, doing exactly what he was doing. A prickling sensation, a warm radiance of pleasure spreading out between my thighs and up along the trunk of my body. Bathing every inch of me. Swallowing me up.

  That tongue of his, jostling around. Twisting and penetrating. Flicking. Lapping. Dipping in, and then plunging. Destroying me from the inside out as the sensations grew, and grew, and grew.

  Over and over again he took me to the point of no return. Right up to the precipice of where I could no longer stand it, just before easing me back down again. I was growing so used to it, so accustomed to his backing me down at the last moment, that I found myself wholly unprepared as he rode me to full climax. His tongue striking at just the right spot, at just the right moment. And then staying there...

  God it was far, far too much for me.

  I screamed. My ass tightened, and my legs slammed together, my knees imprisoning him exactly where he wanted to be- and exactly where I wanted him to be...

  Colors flashed and sizzled before my field of vision. I breathed through my teeth, trying to keep in control, but failing delightedly as the orgasm ripped through my body like a
tidal wave. It swept me under, dragging me deep beneath its currents.

  My fingers curled into that jet black hair, nearly digging into his scalp.

  I held onto him so tight that I might never let go, and screamed as the pleasure poured into every inch, every digit, every nerve of my trembling, breathless form.

  It felt like absolute heaven on earth...

  I held and held, sustaining my pleasure for as long as humanly possible as it burned through my entire body. I never wanted it to end. Never wanted to be free of the miraculous force that had seized me in its grip, and pulled me so violently beneath its surface.

  Inevitably, though, the feelings ebbed gently away. They dissolved from between my legs and radiated along my thighs, spreading out across my body until they grew thin and insubstantial.