The Russian Billionaire: A Romantic Suspense Novel by Georgia Carre (readict .TXT) 📕

his skin on mine overwhelms me. Half crazed with lust, I grab onto the tails of his shirt and push the material almost desperately off his shoulders. Soon his bare tanned chest is on display before me.

He is just as I imagined him. Beautiful. Perfect. Manly. Silently, I curse the dimness of the space we are in. My fingers splay across his chest. I move my hand across his hairless, silky smooth flesh and smile when my palm graze his hardened nipples. I lean forward to catch the taut peak between my teeth.

He suppresses a shiver.

I begin to suck. Hard.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and plunges into me swiftly in one smooth movement.

My back arches at the assault. My fingernails claw into his back and my whole body jerks as the acute blast of ecstasy that shoots through me registers.

“Are you okay?” he asks once again.

I bite down on his shoulder. “Don’t stop. Move,” I groan.

He doesn’t need telling again, he rams into me over, and over again. His balls slap against the curve of my buttocks, while his hand reaches down to torment my already swollen clit.

I pump my hips to meet his ruthless thrusts into me, and with every thrust I feel myself branded, the taut walls of my sex sheathed like a second skin around this godlike cock. There is a spot inside of me that he hits over and over again, and the sweet tension it wreaks through my body leaves me feeling as though I have been run over.

I tighten more and more around him, frantic and panting, my cries echoing through the abandoned cell. I have long lost awareness of where we are and uncaring of anything beyond the magic of his possession.

His groans in my mouth, gruff and deep revs me on like an engine. Once again, the quickening of my entire core grows in intensity as we chase our impending and much longed for release.

My arms tighten desperately around him as my hips rock madly to the deep, rippling drive of his cock. In no time I feel my walls begin to convulse around him.

Tears fill my eyes as an unbelievable wave upon wave of a deliciously decadent climax washes over me. The experience leaves me nearly unconscious and I cry out in complete abandon, calling out his name.

He comes then, with a growl, a sound deep in his throat and so utterly possessive and masculine, something inside me instinctively responds by pressing myself against him and burying my face in his chest. It is a submissive gesture, a woman responding to her man at the most base level.

“Fuck,” he mutters over and over, but I’m long past words. It feels as though my entire body has shut down, but at the same time it is brimming with a violent rush of pleasure that is strong enough to knock me out.

In fact, for some moments, it feels as if my brain is scrambled into mush, and I completely lose my awareness of where we are high in the sky and in heaven.

But then it registers that he is withdrawing from my body. I know I should pull my legs shut and get my jeans back on, but I am unable to move. My limbs are like jelly. I look up at him from under my lashes as he takes the condom off and pulls his pants on, before turning to look at me.

A strange expression crosses his face as he looks down on me. Then he shakes his head and wonders aloud, almost to himself. “How is it possible that I want to fuck you again so soon?” He bends down and slipping his hands around my ass as if I am a bowl, he slips his tongue into me.

I moan softly, and he begins to suck, lick, and nibble on me all over again. He doesn’t stop until I climax again. This time the climax is so hard that my body jerks convulsively against his face and my juices shoot into his hungry mouth.

Raine

We don’t speak much. He seems to be preoccupied with something. After a while he even takes a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and begins studying them. It’s a good thing because I’m not up to making any kind of conversation. I think I’m too shocked and astonished by how my body reacted to him.

The private air hostesses obviously understood when to interrupt and only come into the cabin thirty minutes later to bring hot towels.

They don’t meet my eyes, and I know they know what we’ve been up to. They have to be deaf not to. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I actually don’t care. I feel utterly shameless. My clit is still so swollen it bulges out from my pussy lips. And when it rubs against the rough material of my jeans I have to stop myself from moaning.

God, I just want his mouth on me… and his silky-smooth, enormous, hard cock inside me again. The way he made me feel is addictive. He is addictive. Suddenly, I remember Chloe and the girl who had tried to jump off the roof and the thought makes me frown. I better get a hold of myself, or I’ll end up a humiliating basket case like them.

Tea, finger sandwiches, and cakes are served.

Needless to say, everything is delicious. Half an hour after everything is cleared away, we start our descent. I stand at the top of the stairs and breathe in the English air. It must have just rained because it smells fresh and cleaner than New York.

We are whisked through a quick passport check before we are met by his chauffeur. Seems strange to me that anyone would have a chauffeur in every country where they own a home, but I guess that must be normal for billionaires. Apparently, our bags are already in the trunk of the dark blue Bentley, so we get into the back of the car and off we go.

Oh, I