Behind her, Elijah moved in to unzip her dress, the sound of the zipper cutting through the silence of the limousine. Out popped her breasts one after the other, two round pears revealed in the light spilling in through the windows. I watched her lean back and lift her gown to reveal that she had removed her panties at some point between the table and our grand exit.
When the hell did she do that?
I was drooling. As Elijah played with her breasts, I sank between her legs to shove my mouth against her pussy, licking hungrily. She bucked and groaned while running her fingers through my hair, digging her claws into my scalp as I lapped at her clit. She ran her fingers through the rest of my hair, undoing the style I had it in.
I didn't care. I just wanted to please. I was here for her, for her pleasure, and I forgot about everything around us, even the limo. It felt like we were floating along a cloud on a windless night, leisurely drifting above the rest of the world. I don't know how she managed to make me feel this way, but she did. It was wild to me.
It was wonderful.
I slipped my tongue between her pussy lips and pried them apart, searching for her entrance. I slid my tongue inside and pressed my upper lip to her clit, rubbing it while tongue-fucking her. She bayed and grunted above, intermittently gripping my hair while rolling her hips forward. I couldn't see her, but I imagined she looked incredibly sexy with her dress hanging from her shoulders and her breasts exposed.
When her hand met my chin, I stopped licking and rose. She looked at me intensely, daring me to continue without her instruction. It was then I noticed that Arthur had slithered down her waist and to her pussy where he parted her pussy lips.
“Finger her,” he commanded.
I kept her gaze while I placed my fingers at her entrance and stroked her, soaking my fingers in preparation of slipping inside. Her glossy lips parted, and she sighed softly as I slipped in, taking my time to allow her muscles to get used to my fingers. I watched her tongue flicking behind her teeth and knew she wanted one of us in her mouth—I wished hard it would be me.
Elijah held her pussy lips open as I fingered her. Her eyelids fluttered while I sank inside, moaning while feeling her warm pussy squeezing around my fingers. When I leaned forward, she met my lips and kissed me hard, breathing heavy. Her breasts rose and fell in quick succession, matching her ragged panting. I relaxed back to get a good view of her, to watch her face shift, and to see the pleasure erupt in her eyes.
She was loving this.
Each dive of my finger prompted her hips to buck and her lips to twitch. As her eyelids sank to slits, she leaned back against Elijah and moaned. He nipped her earlobe. “Do you like it?”
She nodded heatedly.
“What else do you want?”
The question prompted her to pause humping. I could see the flicker of an idea cross her face, but she didn't say anything, instead occupying her lips with his. He gladly took her kiss while keeping his hands on her pussy lips, keeping them parted for me to finger. I gladly pressed on, knowing she was enjoying it.
Every time I sank deep, she hummed with contentment and arched her back. I was beside myself with the pleasure of watching and waiting—not so patiently—for her to erupt. I wanted to see it again. I couldn't help myself.
When the limo came to a stop, I sank back and withdrew my fingers. I watched as our driver waited patiently outside the door while we recomposed ourselves, all of us holding a look of disappointment while we shifted and adjusted our clothes. When Belle was fully covered, Elijah led the way out of the limo and on to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
I fixed my hair as best I could, studying my reflection in the car window.
“Balls,” I groaned. “They hurt.”
Belle giggled. “Maybe we can handle that later.”
I smiled wide, admiring the way her eyes lit up at the sight of me. She turned to Elijah to give him the same look, and he beamed. Suddenly, everything seemed to be okay.
Everything was perfect.
Chapter 17
Belle
I could feel my zipper slipping down my back. Before I could create a public embarrassment for myself, I turned my rear to Arthur and requested his assistance. He didn't hesitate to zip my dress all the way back up, placing his hand on the small of my back as assurance that everything was fine. I reached out for Elijah's hand and then Arthur's before walking towards the restaurant, feeling proud of myself for how the night unfolded.
I was so unsure before, but that was quickly fading. When we walked inside, a host greeted us and gathered three menus prior to leading us to a table in the far corner away from everyone else. I was happy to have some privacy with Elijah and Arthur. And, as much as I was hungry for food, I was starving for something much more.
As I sat down, I realized I had left my panties in the car. My dress felt wet from where my pussy had pressed against it. It was the same spot these two men were teasing back at the party. The exhilaration I felt from being groped in public was beyond sublime—it was finer than any drunk experience I had ever had.
And now, I felt their penetrating gaze from across the table as I raised my menu and straightened my back, appearing to be a truly rich professional.
“What do you recommend?” I inquired as my eyes fled across the menu. “Everything is in French.”
“Don't mind that. We can order something for you,” Arthur offered.
“I'd love to know what's the best meal.”
Elijah grinned. “How about seafood?”
I smiled and nodded, setting my menu down as soon as the waiter approached to take our order. Elijah ordered for me and for himself, then paused to allow Arthur time to outline what he wanted. They both spoke incredibly impressive French, and I sank a little in my seat, feeling uneducated. But when they looked back at me, I perked up. I smiled again.
“How did you like the party?” Elijah asked.
"It was strange but lovely."
“I hope that man wasn't bothering you too much,” Arthur mentioned.
Elijah elbowed Arthur in the ribs. “Mind yourself.”
“I was just making sure,” Arthur claimed.
“I'm fine, really,” I insisted. “He's no bother. I'm used to dealing with men like that in my line of work.”
“That's a pity. We would hate for you to ever feel uncomfortable with us,” Arthur said.
“I don't. You've done well to make me feel welcome.”
Elijah smiled. “We're glad to hear that.”
The waiter returned with a bottle of champagne and poured each of us a glass, leaving to check on our order. I lifted my glass and took a long sip, delighting in the fresh taste of it. The atmosphere of the restaurant was gentle and dim, providing me with plenty of light to check out the men sitting across from me, but plenty of privacy in case I got shy.
“What did you think about Florence asking for your services?” Elijah asked.
I shrugged. “I felt like it was harmless.”
“She seemed to be checking you out,” Arthur pointed out with a grin. “What do you think of that?”
“I don't mind it.”
“Would you ever go work for someone else?” Elijah questioned. “Would you ever consider it?”
I looked between the two of them, trying to figure out their secret language. It always seemed like they had this invisible phone line linking them together that they communicated through. It didn't bother me so much as it interested me. I wanted to know the mechanics of their friendship and how much they had experienced together, but I didn't want to be rude.
“I don't think I would,” I replied confidently. “But that would depend on the price.”
“You're certainly business-minded. I like that,” Arthur applauded. “But we would like to keep you for as long as possible.”
I grinned. “Maybe forever?”
A red hue took his cheeks for a second as Elijah looked elsewhere, mindlessly lifting his glass of champagne to sip. These two were so
strange. I wondered what they were thinking.
“Maybe,” Arthur admitted. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you do with our upcoming events,” Elijah replied.
I turned my gaze to him, drilling questions into his eyes to see if that unspoken link worked with us. There didn't seem to be any recognition, so I dropped my gaze to my fingers. “That's fair.”
“Not that we're not impressed so far,” Arthur added quickly.
“You've done very well,” Elijah complimented.
I twiddled my thumbs together. “I appreciate your confidence.”
“Belle, why are you staring at your hands?”
I perked up, wiping the frown off my face. I hadn't even realized I had dipped like that and I hoped I hadn't offended them. “Oh, I just got a little tired.”
“Maybe we've been too rough with you,” Arthur supposed.
“Not at all. I'm just peopled out.”
“That's understandable. Our business is very much people-oriented. It's something we've had to get used to since we started,” Elijah explained. “But I'm sure you'll catch on.”
“You did well at the party. Not a word out of place,” Arthur praised.
I blushed. “You're too kind.”
"And soon, you won't even bat an eye at a place like that. We go to a lot of events and parties to keep up with our clients like Florence. She's constantly between the UK and the US with her business," Elijah explained.
“I can imagine that's a lot of traveling that needs pampering,” I said.
“She's our best customer. We'd hate to lose her patronage,” Arthur stated.
I fingered the rim of my glass. “You know, I've never really seen your hotels. I've been in the gala rooms, but I haven't seen the private rooms upstairs.”
“Would you like to? We have a penthouse suite in just about every hotel we own reserved for us,” Arthur offered.
Elijah stared at him for a moment before turning his blazing green eyes to me. “That is certainly an option on the table.”
“Is there a hot tub?” I queried with a grin.
Elijah chuckled. “Of course, there is.”
“Then, yes.”
Arthur beamed. “Consider it done.”
Before I could add anything to our conversation, our food arrived. I was beyond starving at this point, and the heavenly smell of food only prompted my stomach to growl loudly. I admired the lobster that sat in front of me, studying the way the wisps of steam rose up from the red shell.
I licked my lips. “You two sure know how to treat a lady.”
“Please, enjoy, princess,” Elijah insisted. “And you can have any dessert you want.”
“Although it won't compare to the cakes that you bake,” Arthur complimented.
I grinned. “Stop it.”
The two men grinned at me before digging into their plates. I loved watching how Elijah ate, how prim and proper he held his utensils while in the public eye. Though Arthur reflected the same grace, he was a little more ravenous than his friend, shoveling more food in his mouth with each bite. I admired how they had their own little personality quirks, but remained on the same level.
Elijah must have noticed me staring. “Is there something the matter with your food?”
I shook my head with a smile. “No, nothing at all.”
“You haven't taken a bite.”
“I was letting it cool off.”
He smiled approvingly and went back to eating, taking sips of champagne intermittently. I listened to the hum of the restaurant around us and nearly became hypnotized by it, suddenly aware of my own existence in the presence of these two successful business giants. Was this my life now?
If it was, I didn't mind it—not one bit.
Chapter 18
Elijah
I pensively leaned against the counter while peering out the window, checking on the setup of the main gala room. Everything was in order, but something felt out of place—something incredibly pertinent. Behind me, Belle flew around the kitchen creating the entrées for the event. This seemed to be her natural element, and it made me smile warmly as she sprinkled seasoning on top of a roast pig.
It had only been a few days since our date at the restaurant, and I was perplexed by the way we had all began to fall into a rhythm—I was also a bit nervous. Still, I shoved the feeling away in an effort to remain in the moment.
“You could feed a village,” I teased.
She laughed. “You know, I've often thought about trying.”
“How would you do that?”
“I thought about volunteering overseas. My services could be useful to those without the resources to feed themselves,” she explained.
“An admirable quality, for sure.”
She beamed, keeping her smile small. "Oh, it's nothing. I don't want just to make money—I want to make a real difference in the world."
“What about here in the city? Our homeless population is off the charts.”
She stuck a thermometer in the pork and paused, watching the dial rise to indicate the internal temperature. “I hadn't taken you to the be the type to pay attention to that sort of thing.”
“Well, I'm not just a rich jerk who throws money around.”
“I didn't take you for one.”
“Of course, not. Because I'm not.”
Satisfied, she withdrew the thermometer and set it on the counter, wiping her hands on the cloth she kept in her apron. She approached me. “You don't have to prove anything to me.”
“I was just saying.”
“I get it.”
I smiled. “Your understanding astounds me.”
“Why's that?”
I stared into her eyes, finally realizing what was out of place.
It was me—I felt out of place.
As I fumbled for a response, Arthur made an entrance on the other side of the kitchen, announcing his presence loudly. “The king has arrived!”
Belle rolled her eyes. “So he has.”
I sighed with relief at the opportunity to withhold a response. While Arthur went to dig through the desserts sitting on the stove, I stepped back and watched. Belle swatted his hand, and he chuckled, slinking away to the corner where I was brooding.
“A lot on your mind, brother?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“You seem angry. What's vexing you?”
“A lot,” I sighed. “We should go talk.”
Arthur showed hesitation but followed my lead, trailing behind me like a puppy who was told he couldn't go outside yet. When we were out in the hall, I peered through the kitchen window to make sure Belle was on the other side of the room and out of earshot.
“I'm worried about this situation,” I expressed in a low voice. “I think she wants us to take her virginity soon.”
“So? That's kind of awesome.”
“No, it's not awesome, brother. If we take her virginity, she'll get attached.”
“So all this teasing would have been for nothing? That's the worst.”
I rolled my eyes. “Artie, you're not listening to me. We can't let her get too close.”
“I thought that was the whole point of hiring her.”
“Well, I'm starting to have my doubts.”
Arthur huffed, amused. “Like you usually do.”
“And you're being aloof about them like you usually do.”
“She's harmless, Elijah. I mean, look at her—what kind of damage do you really think she could do to us?”
“It's not us I'm worried about, Artie. It's her.”
He stared at me for a moment while absorbing my words, mulling them around in his skull. For a moment, he peeked over my shoulder to look inside the kitchen. I saw how his features shifted—I saw the happiness fill his eyes. It was too much.
“You're too attached,” I pointed out. “And she's going to get hurt.”
“If you were so concerned about her getting hurt, you wouldn't have had me hir
e her.”
“I made a mistake, okay? It was a mistake to enact this plan. I'm regretting it.”
Arthur took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you serious right now?”
“I'm more than serious.”
“No, I think you're just sexually frustrated. You need to get your dick sucked off because the blue has started filling up your face.”
I glared at him. “You're so full of it sometimes.”
“And you're full of frustration. Might I suggest walking in there right now and having her please you?”
“Don't joke. It's not cute.”
“If I don't joke, then I might scream. Why don't you want us to have her? What are you afraid of?”
His question struck me irrevocably silent. I could feel the sting of his words like poison seeping into my stomach and making me nauseous. Something about that question was wrong—no, it was hurtful.
“You're trying to pull the plug, brother,” Arthur accused. “You're trying to run.”
“That's not true.”
“It is true. I've never seen you this frightened before. You've faced so many challenging clients and contracts, none of them causing you to bat an eye. But her?” Arthur pointed through the window. “She scares you down to your bones.”
“You don't even know me.”
He released an unnerved groan. “I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than your parents. Don't you dare think for a second I can't read you like a book, Elijah.”
I felt the tension rise in my gut. The words of poison were bubbling into my throat, forcing me to consider insults that were way out in the left field. I kept my lips in a thin line and fumed, feeling my discomfort grow stronger.
“We need a vacation,” I blurted. “We have to get out of town for a while.”
“And where should we go? Guam?”
“I don't care. Just book us a place—now.”
“And what about Belle? Are we just ditching her?”
The Virgins Double Bosses: A MFM Billionaire Menage Romance Page 10