Under the Billionaire's Shelter: Billionaire and Single Mom Romance Collection With New Novel Included (Under Him Book 5)

by Jamie Knight

  “Alright, alright don’t rub it in,” Clem conceded.

  Leaving the happy couple to their bliss, we went to find where my parents were sitting. It was kind of like looking for a particular tree in the forest. Most of the guests were of my bloodline, but it was still worth a shot.

  “Honey!” Mom shouted, leaping to her feet, still quite spry for her age.

  The sudden noise set Brogan off screaming as sudden noises tended to do. Before either Addie or I had time to react, Mom had Brogan out of the sling and was bouncing her back to sleep. If there was one thing my mom knew about, it was babies. Dad, as was his custom, took an interest while hanging back awaiting instructions.

  “She’s good,” Duncan said.

  “Practice, Dear,” Mom replied, handing back a slumbering Brogan.

  The table was only a four-seater, so we had to poach a few more chairs. Everybody seated for the moment, I handed Brogan off to Addie so she could get in some baby cuddle time.

  It was something we found we both liked quite a lot. I was the oldest in my family, youngest sisters being all of 15. There was roughly two years between us with some bigger gaps near the end. They named the youngest one Joy, so she wouldn’t think she was an accident. ‘Accident’ made it sound far too negative for such a wonderful thing as a new baby.

  My parents strongly preferred the descriptor ‘surprise.’ Something I fully planned to do with Brogan when she was older. She really was the most wonderful of surprises, even though neither Addie nor I had really seen her coming.

  “Hello, happy families,” Mercy said, taking up her seat.

  “Mercy,” I said with a nod.

  “Mercy?” Mom asked.

  “Like Sisters of Mercy,” Mercy said.

  “The hospital, not the band,” I clarified.

  “I figured that, Dear.”

  “Can never be too careful.”

  “That’s not even the worst part,” Mercy said.

  “Oh? Do tell.”

  “My last name is McGee.”

  “Mercy McGee,” mom mused.

  “Yeah.”

  “Could be worse.”

  “How so?”

  “Your middle name could be Strange,” Mom said.

  “Do you want to tell her or should I?” Addie asked.

  “Tell me what?” mom asked.

  By way of response, Mercy got out her driver’s license and put it on the table in front of my parents.

  “Well blow me down,” Dom said. Dad continued his tradition of stoic silence.

  “I heard you had another show,” Mercy said, looking for a changed of topic.

  “Of course, you did, you were at the opening,” Addie pointed out.

  “What kind of show?” Mom asked, picking up what Mercy was laying down.

  “Thanks to Tobias, I am finally able to live out my lifelong dream of being an artist.”

  “She’s good too!” Mercy added.

  “Try not to sound so surprised,” Addie teased.

  “Painting?” Mom asked.

  “Mostly, yes. Some illustration, too.”

  “She has pictures,” Mercy said.

  “How many drinks have you had?” Addie asked.

  “Three,” Mercy said, holding up five fingers.

  “Might want drink some water,” I suggested.

  “Good idea,” Mercy said, wandering off in search of such.

  “Do you have photos?” Dad asked.

  “Serious?” Addie asked.

  “Always,” Dad and I said in unison.

  Spurred by our shared interest, Addie got out her phone and stared looking for her best examples. She had produced over a hundred pieces since things got secure with our relationship, and she continued through most of her pregnancy, which turned out to be her most productive period. She was just getting back into it and finding her groove again.

  “Oh, wow they are almost like photographs!” Mom said.

  “Caravaggio,” Dad commented casually.

  “He was actually an influence,” Addie said.

  “I see a bit of Boris Vallejo, too,” Mom added.

  “Oh, yes,” Dad agreed.

  “Can I see?” Duncan asked.

  “No,” chorused in unison.

  He sat down and pouted until at being left out of what he assumed to be the fun, a sensation with which I was well acquainted. Making sure no one was looking, I slipped a wrapped bubble gum, the grapevine I had been addicted to since I was Duncan’s age, and passed it to him.

  Addie didn’t like him having a lot of sugar, but a little bit of vice was okay. It was all about moderation, despite how pithy Wilde was in saying he could resist anything, except temptation.

  As for me, I didn’t want to resist any of the beautiful joys in life. I was so glad to be married to my beautiful wife, an adopted dad of her awesome son, and expecting a baby as well. My life had changed so much since I’d met Addie, but I didn’t regret any of it. I only hoped it would last us an eternity, because there was no other life I wanted.

  Addie

  It wasn’t easy to leave my babies. Brogan and I had only recently gotten aquatinted, and already I was leaving. The fact that it was for the honeymoon only helped a bit. She didn’t seem to be taking it very well either until Mercy showed Brogan her magic act, which reduced the newborn to a mass of giggles. It was pretty funny.

  Leaving the kids in the capable hands of Mercy and their grandparents was going to work out okay, I thought. My best friend was already working to imprint herself as the cool aunt in the developing mind of my infant daughter. It was yet another thing Brogan and Duncan would have in common.

  Clementine was sweet enough to take some time away from the buffet table to drive us to the airfield. Allison came along of course, riding shotgun alongside her lady love. They really were quite beautiful together.

  The plane was waiting for us when we arrived. The car drove right up to the bottom of the stairs. It helped that Tobias owned the plane and paid the pilot’s salary. He had a pilot’s license himself just in case anything went wrong.

  It wasn’t about worrying about what might happen. It was about reasonable risk management, one of the keys to stoicism that didn’t require that one repressed emotion. Rather, the main idea was basically to think of the worst thing that could possibly happen so you can prepare for it. It was the ultimate expression of ‘Hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

  That way, if the worst should come to pass, you were ready for it. Such as an abusive ex coming out of the woodwork after more than a decade and threatening to take you child away from you by using threats and blackmail.

  I didn’t know where we were going. Tobias stayed predictably tight-lipped about his plans. What I did know for certain, despite the lack of information to go on, was that whatever he was plotting was going to be amazing.

  The plane tipped in the general direction of Europe and was accompanied by the over four-hour flight time. My mind positively spun with possibilities. Were we going to London? Or to Florence? Paris maybe? It turned out that this last guess was the most accurate. The plane didn’t touch down in Paris exactly, but near the south where a lot of the resorts happened to be.

  The sign was clear enough. Tobias Ford was written in clear, block capitals. The driver, a tall, handsome man with a dusky black coat and a gloved right hand, didn’t speak much English, which was not out of the ordinary, with tourists being mostly limited to the cities. Even those who could were somewhat resistant, which was understandable, given the history between England and France. Scotland and France teamed up at one point, a case of strange bedfellows known as The Auld Alliance.

  It was a matter of great interest to the driver when he realized I was descended from one of the first breeders of Harris sheep, the source material for world famous Harris tweed.

  My mouth actually dropped open at the grandiose 17th century building overlooking a pristine beach with sparking blue water. It was enough to make me want to go skinny dip
ping. I restrained myself for the moment.

  “Shall we?” Tobias asked as the driver opened the door.

  Hand in hand, we went to the empty resort, which I assumed Tobias also owned. Very little would have surprised me at that point.

  Our footsteps echoed as we took our limited luggage through the massive front hall. Tobias insisted that we pack light, likely due to the lack of bellhops. The eyes of classic paintings watched us as we went. Like the ones in the dining room.

  “Originals?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of them.

  “Of course,” Tobias said.

  “Can I take some home with me?”

  “Not on the plane, but I could arrange freight,” Tobias said, in the same way he told Duncan he could see about finding him a castle in England.

  He actually had looked for a castle, finding a few options for Duncan to go to, but none of them really struck his fancy. The fact that none of them came with electricity or indoor plumbing was something of a deal-breaker. He waffled on one outside Durham with a drawbridge, though.

  After several halls and five flights of stairs, Tobias assured me that it would be worth it. He was quite right. The final destination of our sojourn was a penthouse room, literally on the roof of the building with a panoramic ocean view. Before I was even aware of it, I was right up against the guard rail looking out over the view.

  “Careful,” Tobias said, placing a hand gently on the small of my back.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said in a sort of glory endured fugue state.

  “And why I bought the place,” Tobias added.

  You might not have been able to literally buy happiness, but some of the things you could buy with enough money could endure happiness, which was almost the same thing.

  “Would you like to go inside?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and gently kissing me on the cheek. I could already feel his hardening cock pressing up against my ass.

  “Yes, please,” I said, referring to his cock as much as his clearly rhetorical question.

  Scooping me up into his arms like he had done so many times, though with a bit more effort that time, my newlywed husband carried me into the penthouse to finalize and sanctify our union by fucking me silly.

  One of the advantages to the dress we finally chose was that it was exceedingly easy to get off. Long and mostly sleeveless, it was mostly a matter of lowering the straps until the dressed cascaded down around my ankles. I neglected to wear underwear with the silky number, so a hop and a skip later and I was completely naked atop the southern French resort.

  Stepping close, Tobias ran his hand down my body, from my neck to my pussy, gently cupping the latter, making me gasp. Literally holding me by the pussy, Tobias managed to get undressed one handed. His black boxer shorts fell to the floor. His hard cock spring out towards me like a cobra in a basket.

  Unable to resist any longer, I got on my knees, taking his cock deep into my mouth. My eyes locked on his as I slowly and lovingly swallowed his cock, continuing until my lips brushed his pelvis. Easing back to a more comfortable depth, I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and sucked his perfect cock at a regular rhythm, working his thick, sweet cum into my mouth. His load came in an absolute flood. A long moan of release escaped him.

  “Your turn,” he said with a long smile.

  Hauling me up into his arms once aging, this time with me flat against him, my legs wrapped around his legs, Tobias carried me over to the bed, the two of us kissing as we moved across the lovely marble floor which had been surprisingly comfortable under my knees.

  Getting me onto the bed, Tobias ran his hands down my legs, taking each of my feet into his hands. Through a miracle of strength and co-ordination, he massaged both my feet in tandem, making me moan in joy, nearly melting into the high fiber European sheets.

  Working me up to a near frenzy, Tobias went in for the knockout punch, dropping his head between my thighs. He lapped perfectly at my aching pussy, almost making me scream in pleasure. Introducing his fingers into the situation, he worked my pussy as he licked my clit, bringing me to a wracking orgasm.

  Doing my best to rally, it was nearly twenty minutes before I could get to my feet. I hobbled to my suitcase to put my cunning plan into motion.

  “What are you doin’, Pumpkin?”

  “I have another present for you,” I said as I returned to the bed.

  “Right now?” He asked.

  “Trust me, it’s on theme.”

  I watched with great anticipation as he untied the ribbon and top the lid from the box. His eyes lighting up as he saw what was inside.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Probably,” I said, unable to imagine what else he might think it was.

  “Are you sure?” He asked.

  “Definitely. How do you want me?”

  “On your side,” he said.

  I shifted onto my side. Tobias gently bent my legs at the knees, opening things up down there a lot more. Returning to the box of gifts, Tobias popped the lid on the little bottle of high-quality water-based lubricant, putting a generous portion onto the butt plug that was also housed in the box.

  Returning the bottle of lube to the box, he gently pulled open my ass with one hand while touching the tip of the butt plug to my tight, virgin asshole, easing it up in there, until the base brushed gently against my ass cheeks.

  “Deep breaths, Pumpkin,” Tobias said, caressing my pussy to help me relax.

  I followed his advice and before too long, I could actually feel my asshole starting to stretch. As soon as I was ready, Tobias eased the butt plug out, leaving my asshole stretched and ready.

  Applying more of the lube to both his cock and my asshole, Tobias pressed the head of his cock into the opening. The very touch made me moan. Getting his cock in to half length, Tobias eased to a stop, leading me in slow breathing exercises like a particularly erotic yoga lesson.

  When I was ready, he started to rock his hips, working his cock in and out of me by increments as I gladly gave him my anal virginity. Leaning down to kiss the back of my neck, which he had already worked out that I really liked, he picked things up a bit. Easing into a regular rhythm.

  “You okay, Pumpkin?”

  “Fuck yes!” I screamed emphatically.

  It had hurt a bit at the beginning when he was first pushing in. His cock was even bigger than the butt plug. But that soon subsided, and I was left with the most intense pleasure as he fucked my asshole.

  Tobias took my hand and squeezed it gently as I came hard. His load blasting inside me in the same moment. It was the strongest orgasm I had ever had in my life and I was very much looking forward to having many, many more.

  “This feels amazing, husband,” I told him, as we cuddled up together in the large bed.

  “Good, wife. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” I told him, excited for the rest of our future together as husband, wife and parents.

  THE END

  Who Wants to Lock Down a Billionaire

  Copyright © 2020 Jamie Knight Romance.

  All rights reserved.

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  Chapter One - Morgan

  I was debating whether to break out a pink of ice cream or take a bubble bath when my best friend Morgan plopped down beside me. I’d always loved this relaxing part of the evening, in which I could have fun for an hour or two now that the responsibilities of single motherhood were done for the day, before I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

  “Have you heard about this show called Who Wants to Lock Down with a Billionaire?” Astrid asked, pulling up the site on her laptop.

  We had made a large meatloaf dinner, working together to threaten the plot of the evil oven trying to throw us off, and then put my daughter to bed, which was another team effort. I hadn’t known if she was going to head home or join me where I’d lazily collapsed on the surprisingly comfortabl
e couch in my tiny living room. It really was amazing what you could find on the curb side if you were willing to look for it.

  Astrid didn’t live with Freya and me, but she might as well have. She was constantly over and often spent the night.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, as a timid answer to her question about the show.

  All these reality TV shows sounded alike to me, and it was hard to keep track of them. But this one was new and was being done virtual style, due to the pandemic, so that was a unique twist that made it stand out a bit more from the others.

  “It’s really wild!” Astrid continued. “There’s like this super rich guy and women apply to go with him to this luxury compound he has set up for a two-week lockdown! The only catch is that they have to agree in advance that if they win, they’ll be his ‘pet,’ like a sex slave or whatever, and he’s really into the whole dominance thing. Like spanking and stuff!”

  I tried to keep myself from giggling at the way she was phrasing things. Astrid had been raised Dutch Orthodox and was a bit sheltered. She didn’t really know what sex was until her late teens and didn’t lose her virginity until college.

  I had shown her some amateur porn just to give her a clear idea of what might happen. She nearly fainted. For her, anal sex was the height of taboo kink. There were some ways in which I envied her innocence.

  The idea behind the show wasn’t the worst one I’d ever heard, for this sort of thing. Reality TV had always carried a slight varnish of sleaze, going all the way back to the first seasons of Lost and Big Brother.

  Sex and betrayal were major themes of the shows and a big part of the attraction. They were Shakespearian tragedies without the writing or performances, something the tabloids, then and now, did their very best to run with.

  The more devastating the news, the better. After a while they just dropped the pretense and innuendo all together and came out with shows like Naked Attraction, which is basically what it sounds like.

  “So, this is like a luxury lockdown with a billionaire, but I guess the play on words is that you also lock down his heart, by being his choice of the one girl he chooses to quarantine with, out of the many who apply,” Astrid continued.