Unwanted Attraction: A Billionaire Romance

by T. R. Iyer

  She was alone, all alone—a good reason to drink herself to sleep.

  Shut up, Nella. Stop being so f*cking dramatic, she scolded herself.

  Ornelia’s mind wandered around all the different scenarios.

  Was Maximus really sleeping around? Do I really mean nothing to him?

  The latter question was stupid, given the fact he’d pretty much made it clear to her that nothing could ever happen between them.

  She gulped a glass of wine down for each question that popped up. She’d had five glasses, or more; she lost count.

  She decided she was done being sad about him. She kept the wine aside and lay down on the bed, waiting for sleep to engulf her.

  ***

  Crash . . .

  The loud noise of something falling reached Ornelia’s ears, and she was up immediately in a defensive stance. Alert and slightly tipsy from all the wine in her system, she made her way toward the kitchen with a pillow in her hand. She saw the light illuminating the kitchen and a tall silhouette of a man with broad shoulders standing near the fridge with a bottle in his hand.

  She moved closer to him and threw the pillow at his head. The silhouette finally came into view, swaying and barely standing.

  There he stood awkwardly, looking disheveled, like he hadn’t slept in a few days. She’d noticed him pouring himself a glass of scotch before she rudely interrupted him with that pillow.

  “Out of everything else in this house, you decided to protect yourself with a pillow? Were you planning on playing a pillow fight with the intruder?” Maximus snickered at her.

  He slowly stalked toward her, wobbling and swaying. She instinctively started walking backwards, but Maximus didn’t stop until Ornelia’s back hit the kitchen island. As he neared her, he lost his balance.

  Ornerlia’s hands quickly flew to his chest to steady him.

  She was startled when she felt his warm breath fanning her face, in a matter of seconds. The bottle of scotch was long forgotten as he brought his hands around her waist and his lips crashed down on hers.

  Ornelia was too shocked to respond, but when he started to massage her sides, she gave in and kissed him back.

  He licked and nibbled on her bottom lip asking for entrance, but Ornelia, being her, didn’t get the sign.

  As his hands went toward her bottom, she let out a startled gasp. Maximus took this opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of scotch and mint, a heavy mixture that had Ornelia forget everything and kiss him back with the same amount of passion, if not more.

  He is drunk. This is a bad idea.

  The thought had her pull back from him. Confused stormy-gray eyes gazed directly into hers. She was spellbound.

  What am I supposed to say? That I am not ready, but at the same time I don’t want this to stop? Or that he is drunk, and I am too? I just don’t want him to regret it.

  “Hey, you’re drunk. Maybe we can talk about this later. How about I put you to bed for now? Hmm . . .” Ornelia said, while helping him stand on his feet.

  Maximus nodded and walked to his bedroom with Ornelia holding him from behind, preventing him from an unwanted fall.

  As they reached the bedroom, Maximus suddenly seemed to regain all his strength. He grabbed hold of her and pushed her.

  Taken by surprise, Ornelia tripped and fell back on the bed, a look of fear crossed her face.

  Maximus seemed confused by her fear and hesitation, then his face suddenly shone with realization, and a big grin formed instead of his signature scowl. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle,” he whispered in her ear seductively and kissed her earlobe before giving it a sloppy lick.

  For once Ornelia wanted to let loose and give in to her desires—and she did.

  Her lips were soft and ready to be devoured.

  Maximus kissed her once again with fiery urgency, and the way she responded to his touch only drove him crazy. Her back arched softly when he slid a hand around it to undo the zipper of her flimsy silk nightgown.

  He loved the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. It gave him easy access to her beautiful, perky tits.

  As soon as his breath hit her nipples, her rosy peaks hardened with desire. He took a nipple in his mouth and gave it a little nibble.

  She gasped when she felt his mouth work its magic. Her hands held on to his hair as he made his way down to her pussy.

  He then parted her legs. “F*ck, what a sight!” he thought out loud.

  It was beautiful and pink, a similar color to her nipples but with some dusting of dark hair. Her sweet and musky scent was turning him into a primal creature.

  He dove in to her, licking and slurping her arousal until she yelled his name at the top of her lungs. His eyes studied her face, completely enamored with her beauty. She looked immaculate, and her cheeks were flushed.

  She sported a lazy smile and pulled him down for a long kiss. She felt content. Then she rubbed him through his pants, which seemed to drive him insane.

  Maximus removed his clothes in an urgency, and Ornelia got rid of her nightgown. She took a good look at the man standing in front of her, swearing Maximus’s body was carved by some sculptor. He was a perfect mix of sexy and handsome.

  With each passing second, she felt her heart rate increase and more wetness pooled in her pussy. Her dizzying thoughts weren’t helping her. Her gaze traveled down to his engorged cock—a truly gorgeous one. Her mouth watered at the sight of it pointing straight at her. She wanted to give him pleasure the way he just did.

  When she went to touch him, Maximus pushed her back on the bed.

  “Not today, baby. Today is going to be all about you.” He kissed her lips and positioned his manhood at her entrance.

  “You have to tell me if it hurts too much, okay?”

  Ornelia just nodded; words couldn’t find their way out of her mouth.

  Maximus pushed inside with one hard thrust. Ornelia cried out in pain, her eyes welled with unshed tears. Maximus stopped to give her some time to adjust to him. He then caressed her hair and placed chaste kisses on her face.

  Ornelia bit her lower lip to suppress her moan. She slightly moved her hips as he filled her up, then the pain was long forgotten.

  “You can move now,” she whispered in his ear. She then licked his earlobe and the side of his neck.

  When Maximus slowly started moving, she bit him hard.

  “Oh, Max, this is so good. It feels so good. Please, don’t stop . . .” She moaned.

  “I am not stopping anytime soon, baby. I am going to make this special for you. You’re going to remember this for the rest of your life.” Maximus started thrusting harder and harder. He lowered his lips to hers, while his hand reached down to rub on her sensitive little nub.

  She loved all the things he did to her.

  Maximus thrusted faster and maintained that pace until they both reached their climaxes. Ornelia dug her nails into his back as she came, while Maximus was breathing hard on her neck. She loosened her grip on him and felt him slowly collapse on her. She caressed him back involuntarily until both of them fell asleep.

  She would need all her energy for what was to come.

  ***

  Maximus woke up the next morning with a terrible headache. He had gotten drunk the previous night. After all it was one of his best mates’s bachelor’s party. He’d had it held in their club. Some more of their friends came, and all in all, that party was a success.

  Maximus was brought out of his memories when he felt a small body snuggle against his side and saw dark mane of hair covering his luxurious pillow. Everything seemed so right yet so wrong. He knew something was definitely wrong. He could feel it in the air.

  He looked down at himself, then at a woman partly covered with his sheets. His arm acted as her pillow, her head tucked in so close to the crook of his neck. Their legs tangled together, their hands interwined—resting on his bare chest. They were lying on his bed, on his bed.

  He knew he f*cked up. He knew he had f
*cked her.

  Chapter Ten

  It had been quite a while since Ornelia had slept so peacefully. She felt as if she was floating, but with a bad headache. The kind of floating that one would feel after drinking a bottle of wine.

  So peaceful, so warm, but hurts so much .

  She let out a soft sigh and snuggled closer to the warmth for a little more comfort only to find it slowly turning into lava. A small frown made its way on her face. She didn’t like the idea of being woken up from this slumber, especially from such a blissful one.

  She was startled awake when she felt she was being pushed away. When, slowly, she opened her eyes, she found a pair of stormy, furious eyes glaring at her.

  Her husband was glaring at her as if she had committed the biggest sin in the world. She was about to ask him what his problem was, but he’d already started pulling her. His grip on her hand was tight as he dragged her out of the bed and abruptly stopped at the door of the bedroom. He opened the door and motioned her to get out.

  Ornelia was shocked and confused. What had she done? Why was he so angry with her? Until realization hit her like a massive tsunami wave. She started to blush a deep shade of red.

  You knew he would regret it. Stupid girl! her mind taunted her.

  “I hope you understand what I mean. I have zero intention of repeating myself and embarrassing you.”

  Ornelia knew exactly what he meant. She was well aware what the morning was going to bring. She knew what had happened was a moment of weakness and a mistake, and yet she felt her heart break a little. She should have known better that sleeping with him was not going to change anything.

  Hopes and expectations were vices she could not afford.

  “If you have any shame left in your body and mind, you would probably walk out of here right now! Even a wh*re has more dignity than you,” Maximus growled out of frustration. He could not bear looking at her. He was disgusted, to say the least.

  “Excuse me? A wh*re?”

  “You took advantage of my drunken state last night and dug your dirty claws in me. God knows that your innocent façade is of no use in front of me. In the beginning, I thought that maybe I was wrong . . . that maybe you were a genuine person, but I knew better. I knew what sort of person you are. If you can marry me for my money, you can do anything.” He pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his pants he seemed to have grabbed somewhere in between his fit of rage.

  “This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” He threw the money on the floor and turned away from her. His disgust was insulting.

  Ornelia decided to be the calm one in this situation. She heard him snort at her.

  What she did next came as a surprise to both of them.

  Ornelia was not one to ever initiate fights, but neither was she one to back down when insulted. She was a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, so she did exactly that.

  She picked up the stash of money he had thrown at her feet and walked toward him, money in one hand and the other hand securing the sheets she’d pulled to cover her body when he manhandled her.

  “You can have your money, you greedy bastard! I married you purely out of respect for my parents and your grandfather. I had no intention of marrying you . . . let alone be with you! I am just twenty-one. Do you really think any of this was ever my plan? You are some conceited fool if you think I have or ever wanted anything from you!” With that little rant, Ornelia picked herself up and made her way to her room.

  Once inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom. She needed to get rid of him and his essence from her body. She’d let it happen once, but not twice, never.

  She made a decision and was ready to go to whatever extent was necessary to avoid the same thing from happening again.

  ***

  By afternoon, Ornelia was packed and ready to leave. Her fight or flight instincts were on high alert. She wanted out. She knew the whole arrangement was a mistake. She wanted to leave that mansion right away.

  She had no idea how it was all going to pan out; all she knew was right at that moment, removing herself there was the right choice. Her first instinct was to go to her parents’s house. She’d called for a cab and was waiting for it to arrive, but there was one last thing that needed to be done.

  She went to Maximus’s room.

  She took a look around.

  Last night was the first time I stepped in his room, and . . . that would be the last.

  She removed her wedding band and placed it on the bedside table. Tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered his hurtful words. She was not a wh*re, and neither did she want his money. She wiped her eyes and made her way out.

  That was it. She never wanted to see him again.

  As far as the divorce went, she would give him that once one year was up. He could have all the money he wanted.

  It was for the good, considering she had not made any progress in four months, which made her feel unproductive. She knew she was worth so much and didn’t deserve to be treated like sh*t.

  “To hell with you, Maximus King! May you keep neighing all your life.”

  Heh! Lame but nice.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ornelia sat in the cab and gave the driver the address to her parents’s house. Her brain was constantly going about how she would break the news to them. They certainly did not hope she’d come home with all her things packed.

  She knew too well that her mother was going to be devastated.

  “Ma’am, we’re here. That’s going to be fifty,” the driver said, as he pulled over. He was a sweet old man, maybe in his late forties. He’d honestly tried his best to keep her engaged through the ride. Maybe he’d seen her ugly cry, sneakily, in the back seat.

  “Right, here you go. Would you please help me out with the bags?” she asked him.

  “Of course. Moving here?” He tried to make some small talk again, and Ornelia complied.

  She could use a little nonsensical chat with a stranger. “Something like that. Moving back home . . . more like it,” she replied and thanked him. “Have a good day. Bye-bye.”

  “You too, ma’am. Good luck with settling in.” He waved at her and drove away.

  Now, on to the real deal.

  Ornelia rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer the door. Soon enough, her mother came to open it.

  “Oh, honey, you’re here!” Ana hugged her daughter, her eyes widened when she noticed the bags behind her. “And you have bags, a lot of them.”

  “Yeah, Mom. About that . . .” Ornelia scratched the back of her neck.

  “Alex,” Ana called for her husband, “your daughter is here, with a sh*t ton of bags.”

  Her father was at the door in a flash, wide-eyed, just like her mother.

  “Ornelia, what is going on?” he asked, taking in her appearance. “Have you been crying, little girl?” His tone changed to that of concern.

  “Can we please talk inside? Papa, a little help with the bags would be great.” Ornelia began picking up the bags one by one and handed them over to both her parents.

  “How did you carry all of these alone?” Ana asked, struggling with the heavy bag her daughter had handed over to her.

  “I asked our butler to load them in the cab, then the driver to set them down near the entrance and then the doorman to help me carry them up,” she explained. Her body was too exhausted to do all the work alone.

  They placed all the bags in the living room. Her mother then dragged her to sit on the couch, her father right behind them.

  “Now, you need to tell us what is going on.”

  Her eyes began to water all over again. She was getting frustrated with all these emotions. It wasn’t like she actually had any emotions for him, expectations of humanity maybe, but no feelings, or whatsoever.

  “I am done with him. I can’t live with his entitled ass,” she sobbed out.

  “What do you mean? What did he do? Did he hurt you in any way?” Her parents threw their questions away
, back-to-back.

  Ornelia took a deep breath and explained everything. By the time she was done, her father was already red with rage and ready to punch Maximus. He got up and put on his coat and shoes.

  “Papa, where are you going?” Ornelia was now alert and aware. She wiped her tears away and rose from the couch to stop her father.

  “I am going to teach that son of a b*tch a lesson. How dare he call you names? Disrespectful bastard!”

  He was halfway to the door when Ornelia started sobbing again. It was not what she wanted.

  “No, Papa. I don’t want you to go anywhere near him. Please, you have to promise. I don’t want any of us to ever get in touch with him. I’ll take care of this when the time is right. Please, Papa. Do you promise?”

  Her words melted Alexander’s anger.

  “Only because that is what you want, Nella. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come anywhere near you. I am sorry for putting you in this situation.” He hugged his daughter.

  If only he hadn’t run a light unnecessarily, none of it would have happened in the first place.

  “It’s no one’s fault that he is an assh*le. Don’t apologize, Papa. You were . . . only trying to save Mom. I just-just . . . never want to see him again,” she said through tears.

  “Honey, you can stay here as long as you want. As far as seeing him goes, leave it on us. We’ll make sure of it, okay?” her mother assured her.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Sure, honey. I’ll whip something up for you to eat. That’ll cheer you up instantly.”

  Ornelia nodded.

  She loved her mother’s cooking. She was an excellent cook (at least Ornelia thought so).

  After eating alone for four months, sitting and eating with her parents was like heaven to her.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be in my room if you need me. I want to be alone for a while.” She needed some time for herself now that she was back to a place where she felt safe and not lonely.

  “Are you sure, sweetheart? Maybe you can stay here with me for a few minutes, and we can talk.”