The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister

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The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister Page 9

by Monroe, Max

She nods. “Uh-huh.”

  Slowly but pointedly, I slide my fingers between her breasts, up and around each nipple, down her belly, around the perfect skin of her clit, and end right at the warmth of her pussy. With my thumb, I rub gentle circles against her clit and smile.

  Her eyes are wide and raging with arousal as I put my lips to her ear and smile against the delicate skin. “If I touch it, I kiss it,” I whisper roughly. “Looks like I have a lot of work to do.”

  She gasps as I lift her up and out of the pool and lift myself up and out to follow her. I put my lips to her throat and follow the path I left with exacting precision.

  My cock is already half hard, but when she moans at the feel of my lips closing around one of her perfect pink nipples, it stiffens all the way.

  I slide one finger inside her while my lips continue their journey down her abdomen, and my eyes damn near roll back inside my head when I feel how warm and soft she feels.

  Fuck. Me.

  I don’t even know her last name.

  I don’t know where she’s from or why she’s staying at one of my family’s resorts.

  Frankly, I don’t know anything about her besides how funny she is, the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, and that she has no qualms saying what she wants—and that she’s changing the intrinsic way I think and feel, one moment at a time.

  “If I touch it, I kiss it,” I whisper again, my lips hovering just above the apex of her thighs.

  She stares down at me intently, a glimmer in her entrancing blue eyes the likes of which I’ve never seen before, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes hold mine as I lick my tongue against her pussy for the first taste.

  And just like that, every trace of the Theo everyone has come to know is long gone.

  Mr. Serious, as she puts it, left the instant she said, “If you touch it, you kiss it.” But my self-control hung around a little longer.

  Not anymore.

  The only thing I’m serious about right now is making her come.

  Lena

  My eyes roll into the back of my head, and my toes curl under on themselves.

  I just met this man. I don’t know his last name or his job or if he does this all the time. I don’t know if he expects more time from me or if he’s just in it for the night, and I don’t know which of the two I’d rather it be.

  Frankly, I don’t know much at all.

  But I do know no one has ever kissed me, touched me, licked me like this.

  Not in twenty-eight years—ten of those being sexually active—has a man sucked my clit the way Theo does.

  He’s precise and certain with his movements, and not in the least bit misguided in the placement of any of them. He’s a true connoisseur of female anatomy.

  I lean back on shaky elbows, unable to remove my gaze from the place where his mouth is moving against me.

  He eats at me like he can’t get enough, like a starving man at a feast. Quick flicks of his tongue against my clit give way to long, slow strokes that rake against my center.

  My body feels heavy—rooted inexplicably to the moment—and the roughness of the pool deck at my back electrifies my skin.

  My nerves are on alert, striking and zapping from one to the next with every blessed move he makes.

  He slides his fingers up my thighs, and mesmerized, I watch the way drops of water trickle off my skin in their wake. But Theo doesn’t get distracted, his devious fingers moving on, past my hips, up my belly, all the way until they reach my breasts.

  I moan as he grips them in both of his big, strong hands.

  Endlessly patient, he works my orgasm like a man who knows he’s going to get one. He doesn’t rush or force—he coaxes.

  Holy fuck, I know I haven’t been touched in over nine months, but I think this would be just as intense even if I had.

  He’s created a constant ache—a living, breathing desperation inside me to feel myself explode into a million tiny pieces of bliss.

  My thighs shake and my pulse races, and I see the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.

  Everything around me disappears.

  The pool.

  The resort.

  The fucking moon.

  Right now, it’s just him and me. Theo and me and his perfect mouth and the intense pleasure that’s building and building and building inside me.

  I’m slowly flying higher and higher and higher toward an unknown destination. I’m scattered, blissfully out of control, and I reach down with both hands to grip the wet and silky strands of his dark hair.

  “That’s it,” he whispers against me. “Come on my tongue, Lena.”

  Every last ounce of my body’s control explodes. Just…fucking gone.

  Nerves ringing, heart pounding, breathing heavy, I race toward my climax.

  I moan and whimper and clutch at the hair on his perfectly talented head until everything lets go, and I’m overwhelmed. My entire body shakes—my thighs, my belly, my hands, my chest, every-fucking-thing—and not in the way of a normal shiver. Huge waves of ecstasy rack my body so hard I don’t even know my own name.

  Holy hell, somebody give the man a trophy.

  “Shit,” Theo mutters suddenly. “Come here.”

  I’m still incoherent from the insanely good orgasm he just gave me, so all I manage is a faint, “Huh?”

  He doesn’t respond, gently pulling me back into the pool instead. The coolness of the water shocks my now-heated skin. I’m disoriented, but he gathers my body close to his own and moves us silently toward the other end of the pool. I shiver and try to blink past my orgasm-induced fog as he swims easily into a darkened, cave-like alcove.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  “Shh,” he whispers, placing a kind finger to my mouth and lowering his voice to a beat just above silent. “Someone is coming.”

  I’m still dazed, but I’m not sure I understand what he’s talking about. “I already came,” I explain, just in case he has any doubts.

  He chuckles softly before placing a tiny, exquisite kiss to the very corner of my mouth. “I know, dirty girl. Shh.” He smirks at me, and I watch the way droplets of water slide down his face and onto his chest.

  Damn, he’s one good-looking man.

  I start to question him again but stop when the sound of footsteps outside echoes around our hideout.

  It’s only then that I fully grasp our reality.

  We’re hiding in the alcove of the pool of the resort we’re both staying at—a pool that’s closed, mind you—we’re both still naked, and someone we didn’t invite to join us is just outside.

  My lips quirk up into a smile, and a tiny laugh escapes my lungs.

  “What?” he asks, and when my eyes move their way down his body to his very visible—and beautifully well-endowed—cock that’s just kind of bobbing around in the water, the hilarity of our situation grabs me by the throat.

  I lift a hand to my mouth as giggles start to spill from my lips.

  “You’d make a horrible spy,” he says, and his eyes are bright with amusement as he watches me try to hold back my laughter.

  “I’d make a horrible spy?” I ask and nod toward his penis. “Pretty sure you couldn’t get that thing past anyone. I mean, it’s great, fan-fucking-tastic, but surely, it’s too big to go unnoticed. James Bond wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if he had that dangling between his legs.”

  He really does have a great penis. Thick and big in all the right places. I’m tempted to dunk myself underwater and use that thing like a breathing tube on a dive mask.

  “Says the girl with her tits out.”

  “And my pussy,” I retort. “You can’t forget about that.”

  “Oh, trust me, Lena,” he says and leans forward to whisper into my ear. “I could never forget about that sweet-as-fuck pussy of yours.”

  Good God. He sure knows all the right fucking things to say at the right fucking moments. It’s like he’s quiet a lot because he doesn’t believe in wasting words. If he’s
going to say something, it’s because it needs to be said—or more accurately, it’s too damn good not to be said.

  And it makes everything he does say far more impactful. Especially for a chatty girl like me.

  “I think whoever was coming might have left because I don’t hear—” I start to say, but he lifts a finger to my lips and squeezes the tips of his fingers meaningfully into the skin of my bare hips.

  “Excuse me, sir!” a very English, very female, very familiar voice shouts. “I’d like a beer and a burger!”

  Oh no. Pippa.

  Jesus, is she drunk again?

  “And I’ll be right here in this chair while you make it, sir. Please and thank you.” The sounds of metal scraping along the ground shrieks into the otherwise quiet of the night. “Sir, did you hear me? I’d like a beer and a burger.”

  “Miss, the bar and kitchen are closed.” A male voice with a thick Italian accent finally responds. He seems fairly patient given the circumstances, but if I know Pip and her penchant for beating a dead horse, the compassionate nature of his mood probably won’t last long.

  “What the bloody hell? How are they closed?”

  “It’s after midnight, signorina. The kitchen closes at half past ten.”

  “It’s three in the morning?”

  “No, signorina. It’s 12:20.”

  “Well, it looks like ole Pippa is about to get an early start on her day, then,” she says, drunkenly ignoring the kind soul. Theo meets my eyes, a smile lighting up his whole handsome face. “And I’d like to change my order. I’ll have some eggs, bacon, and black coffee.”

  The resort employee’s responding beleaguered sigh can probably be heard from ten miles away if the wind is right. “Like I said before, the kitchen is closed. It won’t open again until six.”

  “Blimey. What in the hell are you doing out here if they’re closed?”

  “Because I work in maintenance, signorina,” he explains.

  “Oh,” Pip says, finally getting the message—at least somewhat. “I guess I’ll just wait it out, then. Right here in this cozy lounger.”

  “That’s more than five hours away,” he replies sensibly, before realizing there’s nothing sensible about Pip in her current state. “You know what, never mind. Please enjoy yourself… But do not get in the pool, okay?”

  Pippa shrieks and then laughs. “There’s a pool out here?!”

  Oh Jesus Christmas.

  I let my head sink into my hands, and Theo wraps his arms around me. I’m not sure if it’s in comfort or as a precautionary measure to keep me from going out there and murdering my once-again inebriated friend, but whatever the reason, I love the feel of it.

  He’s big and solid and warm and smells just right. I never put much thought into what my dream man would smell like before now, but this has to be it. Fresh, clean, with a rich cologne that has only the faintest hint of vanilla. He’s not overpowering in the slightest, but his scent is distinct enough that it keeps you coming back for more.

  The sounds of footsteps moving away from us fill my ears, and I know it’s time I step in and help my drunken mess of a friend.

  I pull back from Theo’s hold enough to look him in the eyes, and I can feel the edge of my mouth turn down into a small frown. “I think I probably need to get her back to the room again.”

  Theo nods, his eyes swirling with a dark kindness. He’s a good guy with good intentions, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s as disappointed to see the night end this way again as I am. “I’ll help you.”

  Both of us don’t worry too seriously about Pip seeing us naked—I doubt she’ll remember much in her drunken state—and swim away from the alcove, through the deep end, and over to the other side until we reach the steps that lead back onto the terrace around the pool.

  “Lena!” Pip exclaims, apparently catching sight of me as I step out of the water. “It’s great to see you! When did you get back from the club?”

  I shake my head. “I got back when you got back. Yesterday.”

  “No shit?”

  I snort and grab two complimentary towels for Theo and me. “An entire day has passed, you lunatic. I can see how that might be confusing, seeing as you’re shit-faced again, but—”

  “Holy hell, your bloody tits are out!” she shouts suddenly as I wrap the towel around my body. When Theo grabs his towel from the lounger where I tossed it beside me, she moves her gaze from me to him and stops. “Lena,” she attempts to whisper. “Don’t look now, but there’s a man right beside you with a ginormous wanker.”

  I laugh, and a short burst of humor-filled air makes Theo choke a little.

  I glance to him briefly to see his eyes dancing, and then I look back to Pippa. “I know.”

  “No wonder you came down here to swim,” she mutters, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes like she’s Corey Hart himself.

  “Lucky coincidence, huh?” I say cheekily to my nonsensical friend, but all I get in response is the rattle of her soft snore.

  Sitting up, in a metal chair, with a random naked man and her naked friend in front of her, Pippa gave in to the unfamiliar feel of alcohol again and her system shut down.

  Theo and I grin at each other as we dry off and shrug our clothes back on, and he doesn’t hesitate to lift a now-sleeping Pippa into his arms.

  “You really don’t have to carry her upstairs,” I say, shaking my head at the thought of requiring his help two nights in a row. I breathe a disbelieving puff of air. “You know she’s never had a drink in her life before last night? Suddenly, she’s the life of the party.”

  Theo’s stride doesn’t balk despite my dismissal as we make our way toward the inside of the resort. He surveys the lines of her young face and then looks back at me. “I guess that explains why she can’t hold her liquor at all.”

  He cocks his head and smirks at me. “And how exactly did you plan on getting her back up to the room?”

  “I don’t know. Teleportation?” I shrug and laugh softly as we step inside the elevator together and the silver doors close in front of us. As the cart rises, so does my need to apologize.

  “I really am sorry about this.”

  Theo’s eyes turn warm with kindness. “It’s not a problem, Lena.”

  Funny thing is, even though I’m the one who got an orgasm, it’s still a problem for me. I wasn’t ready for the night to end.

  When we reach the sixth floor, I step off first to lead the way with the key out and ready. The door unlocks on the first try—something I seemingly can never do in hotels—and with my direction, he carries Pip into her room and lays her gently on her bed.

  I tuck her in for the second night in a row and follow Theo back out toward the living room of our suite.

  “So, this was a strange night, huh?”

  He nods. “Strange, but good.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. Most of it was really, really good.

  “Maybe…maybe it doesn’t have to—” I start, thinking that if neither of us wants this night to end, it doesn’t have to. We can go over to my side of the hotel suite and do more pretty fucking fantastic things.

  But before I can finish the thought, the horrible, awful, always recognizable sounds of someone puking echo from Pip’s room.

  “Oh bloody hell!” she groans, and I sigh.

  And, poof. Just like that, all of the Theo fantasies rolling around inside my head disappear into thin air.

  “Until we meet again?” I say, even though I know there’s a possibility the time might never come.

  My heart throbs, and the walls of my throat thicken.

  But Theo, like always, knows exactly what to say as he leans in and places the sweetest kiss I’ve ever received on the center of my lips.

  “I’ll make sure it’s soon.”

  Theo

  On Friday, my morning starts entirely differently from the one before.

  Rather than sleeping in, fogged by the unexpected events of the night before, I wake with the sun, invigorated�
��positively energized by the night before.

  Thoughts of Lena, her luscious curves, and her perfect, delicious pussy are enough to get me up and out of bed, showered, and dressed within an hour. I do my rounds at the hotel, go through the rundown from the club last night, particularly Marco’s report from after I left, and summarize my suggestions and orders to smooth out our execution and eliminate our faults.

  I feel like I can take on almost anything, and it’s not even nine thirty.

  After meeting with the hotel restaurant’s chef, I head out to the terrace for a quick cup of coffee while I wait for my car to arrive to take me to my yacht.

  It’ll take a two- to three-hour jog to get out to Hugo Spavelle’s yacht on its way to Corsica, but the meeting with him is well worth the effort.

  Hugo is known for his innovative ideas in the world of tourism. He’s an investor on every major coastline and in every city center on the planet. He sees the value in things before anyone else—which is probably how he owns such a large portion of the damn globe.

  Just the fact that he has an interest in meeting with me could mean huge things for Cruz Enterprises.

  I straighten my tie and put my black-framed sunglasses over my eyes as I step through the open French doors in our main hallway and out onto the terrace. It’s a beautiful morning on the Amalfi Coast, and the sky is a mesmerizing shade of cloudless blue.

  Little ripples sparkle like glitter in the pristinely aqua shallow waters in front of the colorful town of Positano, and boats bob up and down like ornaments.

  One of our new waitresses approaches me from the side with my coffee, and I turn to take it with a smile.

  I’m about to turn back to the incredible coastal view when another, even better visual catches my attention.

  Stretched out on one of the loungers, in the same tiny pink bikini from the day before, is the woman I’ve come to know as Lena.

  I don’t know her last name or her family history, but every time I take a breath, I hear the tiny, sexy moans that escape her lungs when she comes.

  My cock hardens as I run greedy eyes over the body I now know intimately, and I have to adjust the way I’m standing so I don’t give myself away.

 

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