Heat_A Stone Billionaire Series Novel Page 10

  Isaac laughs.

  “Can’t get anything past the Stones,” he says.

  “Nope,” I agree.

  He seems an alright guy, apparently in love with Grace, with a good head on his shoulders.

  “So how did you and Grace meet?” I ask.

  “She tripped, I helped her up. We’ve been traveling together ever since, but she has to go back to work soon,” Isaac answers.

  “What do you do?” I ask.

  “Same as you, though I heard you’re up and coming in NLS,” he says.

  “Trust fund kid,” I nod.

  We’ve got more in common than I thought.

  We stop for a late lunch.

  Victoire and Grace insist on more shopping.

  There’s a La Perla here anyway, so I wait for Grace and Isaac to trail off before I guide Vic inside.

  “I believe you owe me a pair of panties,” Vic whispers.

  “You’ll get them,” I growl in her ear.

  She picks up a garter belt in black silk.

  “What do you think?”

  “Try it on,” I reply, my voice hoarse with unbridled lust.

  “I fully expect you to model it for me,” I add.

  “Done,” Vic smirks.

  Vic picks out lingerie from every edge of the store and then struts around in the dressing room in every single piece.

  The sales associates pepper her with compliments as she contorts her body into the most seductive poses she can, to torture me.

  One number, a corset and matching garter belt with a tiny little thong, really sets me off.

  I approach her from behind now that we have some privacy.

  “That’s incredible,” I whisper in her ear.

  I smack Victoire’s ass.

  She smirks at me.

  “Incredible? Just incredible?” she taunts.

  “You look delicious,” I reply.

  “Mmm, I’m not sure I appreciate your tone, Mr. Stone,” she gets snippy with me.

  “Don’t talk back to me,” I order.

  “I said,” her voice is crisp, “I don’t appreciate your tone.

  Her ass receives a hard smack in response.

  “You’ll pay for that,” I whisper.

  Vic only gives me an innocent look, then skips into the dressing room.

  She pulls the curtain partially closed, and I get a full view of her ass as she bends over to slip out of the thong.

  I’ve already given the clerk my credit card, she can have whatever she wants.

  It’s more for me, anyway.

  Without a care for anyone else, I slip inside the dressing room behind Vic.

  “Master!” she looks surprised.

  “Now, you’re going to get it,” I whisper fiercely.

  “I want you to watch yourself get fucked,” I demand.

  Vic removes the bra, so she’s in nothing but her Louboutins, thigh-high stockings, and the garter belt.

  I undo my belt and pull my cock out, then pull her hands behind her back with one hand.

  She waits for the inevitable smack to her ass with my free hand before I guide my rock-hard cock into her wet pussy.

  Her reflection in the mirror is priceless, as she adjusts to my size.

  “Oh!” she gasps.

  Her lips part, her eyes close, and then she bites her red lips hard.

  “Do you like watching yourself?” I growl.

  She can only nod, lest more noise come out of those plump lips.

  I whip out my phone and snap a picture for later.

  “Film it, please,” Vic pleads with me.

  I decide I am going to oblige that request, and I hit the video button as I pull out of her slit and pump her body with my shaft again.

  “More,” Vic pleads.

  My thrusts are slow and deliberate, meant to make her beg and plead.

  She bites her lip again; her legs tremble and I pull her arms behind her back tightly to keep her upright as I feed her insatiable pussy with my cock.

  Vic presses her lips together in the reflection of the mirror, her eyes widen, and I watch her silently cum on my cock, her pussy pulsing, as she struggles to not make a sound.

  “Mmmph!” she says, as she tries hopelessly to stay silent.

  “Keep quiet,” I order her.

  Vic only nods as I continue to thrust my length into her, just harder now.

  She bites her lip, presses her lips together, her mouth open, but no sound coming out.

  Her struggle not to make noise makes me harder than I’ve ever been.

  “Keep quiet,” I remind her.

  Then I switch the angle, bend her over, and fill her up completely.

  I know I’ve hit her g-spot because her pussy is wrapped so tightly around my cock, I can feel her clench just before she cums again.

  “God, you’re wet!” I growl.

  “Master!” she whines.

  “No noise!” I remind her.

  I set the phone down, smack her ass hard, and pound her for all I’m worth.

  I let her hands go so she can brace herself for what she’s about to get.

  With everything I’ve got, I fuck her pussy mercilessly.

  Every thrust causes her to cry out in pleasure.

  I don’t care about the noise anymore.

  The vicious beast inside me is loose, and it wants to tame her.

  Every hard, vigorous thrust rocks her hot body, and she cums again.

  This time she screams my name.

  I can’t help it, on the next thrust I blow my entire load inside her needy little slit with a growl that I know everyone can hear.

  “Fuck! Dear, God! What a fuck!” Vic whines as I fill her up.

  “Did you buy the whole store?” Grace asks when we finally join them for dinner.

  Vic only smirks.

  “Just had it delivered to the hotel,” I say.

  I wink at Vic, and she blushes.

  “I did get a special delivery in there, though!” she smirks.

  Isaac tries to hide his smile, but he doesn’t do it well, and Grace smacks him.

  It was apparent to everyone in that store that I fucked Vic into submission.

  Not that I think any of the sales girls minded.

  All eyes were on us when we left.

  I wrap my arm around Vic as the night gets chillier and she cuddles against me.

  She’s not used to this, but relaxes in my arms anyway, as we all sit around a table with a fire in the middle.

  It warms us nicely, as we order our drinks.

  We have several drinks, pick at food, and then Grace declares she needs to have a bachelorette party.

  Vic instantly finds the nearest club, and we get in no problem.

  All eyes are on Vic, as always, as we make for the bar.

  “A round of shots for the bride-to-be and her groom!” I declare.

  “Shots!” Vic screams.

  She’s gone from buzzed to brazen and drunk since dinner.

  A line of eight shots is poured in front of us, and I take the first of mine.

  The tequila is terrible, burning all the way down, but it does the job, and I toss the second back.

  When I look over at Vic, on the other side of Grace, she smirks over an empty shot glass.

  Then she bounces off the stool and drags Grace into the crowded dance floor.

  It’s for my benefit that she puts on a show.

  She pops her hips from side-to-side and seamlessly moves her whole body to the music like a belly dancer.

  When she throws her hands up in the air and swivels her hips next to Grace, they look like twins and move in sync together.

  Vic moves her body in perfect tune, swivels down low, gives me a good look up her dress, and pops back up.

  Every dance move is intense and overtly sexual.

  Everyone else is an amateur compared to her.

  One scrawny little dude is brave, or drunk, enough to dare to dance with her.

  With a laugh, I wat
ch as Vic obliges him.

  It’s like something out of “A Night at the Roxbury”; I can’t stop my laughter until she pushes him away once the song is over.

  She joins me at the bar.

  “Not tempted to join me?” she shouts over the music.

  “Oh no, that was too much fun to watch!” I laugh at her.

  “Wasn’t it though?” her tone changes to casual.

  “That was goddamn hilarious,” Grace declares.

  Grace orders more shots, and we just keep going.

  We dance, we drink, and I forget all about anything that might tear Vic and me apart.

  It isn’t until we stumble back to the hotel after a rickety cab ride that I realize how drunk I really am.

  Vic starts to puke in my toilet while I sway back and forth.

  I need to order room service, get some food in her once she’s done.

  So, I pick up Victoire’s phone.

  The last thing I remember is noticing several missed calls from a London number on her phone.

  Part II

  12

  Evan

  December 28, 2017

  There is a fantastic sunset over the Cliff House, and the view of the ocean is only enhanced by the number of flowers Vic had arranged.

  It’s a beautiful ceremony between Grace and Isaac, even though my eyes are on Vic the whole time.

  She’s in a simple gold bandage dress that makes her cleavage look plump, delicious, and desirable.

  Vic starts to clap, and I realize the ceremony is over.

  I start to clap, but my eyes are still on Vic, instead of Grace and Isaac.

  My mind is on a few things, but, mostly on the missed calls from London.

  If I ask her, is that going to push her further away?

  “What’s on your mind?” Vic’s voice is smooth as silk.

  I wait the obligatory few minutes for some privacy, away from Vic’s sister and her new husband.

  “I saw your phone last night,” I tell her.

  There’s no reason to beat around the bush with her, we’re far past that.

  “And?” Vic prompts me.

  “What was with the calls from London?” I ask.

  “It’s none of your business,” she reacts to me automatically.

  “None of my business?” I ask.

  I assumed we were done with the secrets.

  “Tell me,” I insist.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” Vic replies calmly.

  “Why don’t I believe that?” I ask.

  “You’re free to believe whatever you want, you’re even free to end this,” she spits back at me.

  “Where did that come from!” I reply angrily.

  She presses her lips together calmly, and I know she doesn’t have an answer.

  It’s an automatic reaction, her defense mechanism in place.

  “You’re mine,” I tell her firmly.

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” she resists.

  I take a step closer to her, so we’re face to face, and she can’t avoid my gaze.

  “You’re mine,” I repeat.

  She looks away, and I reach out to her, turn her head back to me.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” I command.

  “I won’t,” Vic replies with fury.

  “Yes, you will,” my voice is firm with her.

  I remember Henri.

  “I refuse to let you go,” I add.

  “Why?” she protests.

  “Let me,” her voice is small.

  “You don’t want me to. Tell me, that you belong to me, and no one else,” the argument is swift.

  “That’s all you want, admit it,” I say.

  “Why would I want that?” she asks bluntly.

  I swallow hard because of what I’m going to say next.

  “Because you need me, you need what I give you as much as I need what I take from you, and that’s what this is about. But that’s not all, Victoire, you love me just as much as I love you,” I say.

  My confession is swift.

  Vic’s eyes water slightly, she wipes at them, and then her lower lip quivers slightly.

  “I love you,” I repeat.

  “No, you don’t,” she tells me.

  “Yes, I do,” I say firmly.

  Vic looks away from me, then up, right into my gaze.

  It’s a stare off, who’s going to cave first.

  My eyes focus on her hardened gaze, and I wonder if I’m about to lose her.

  What if this is too much?

  “You don’t,” her voice cracks.

  “But I do, I love you, and you need me. You. Are. Mine,” my voice is as steady as ever.

  Vic doesn’t have a reply for this, for my argument.

  “Submit to me, let me in,” I demand.

  “Why!” she cries.

  I take hold of her, smash my lips against hers, and she kisses me back with so much fury and passion it makes me dizzy.

  A tear slips down her cheek, and I taste salt.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” Vic finally admits to me.

  “Just give into me,” I demand.

  “Admit you belong to me,” I continue.

  It’s so easy to pull her body against mine, but she resists.

  Victoire pushes me away for the first time, and moves to walk away.

  Then, she pauses.

  “What are you going to do?” I need an answer from her.

  There’s a long pause, where she’s half turned away from me, but her eyes are focused on me.

  Then, of all things, Vic drops to her knees in front of me.

  I’ve won.

  Not just this argument, but her.

  “I’m yours,” she admits.

  It’s as much as I’m going to get out of her, and I place a hand under her chin so I can point her head up towards me.

  “Mine,” I repeat.

  She only nods.

  I’m taken back and pull her to her feet.

  We embrace and then she lets me kiss her thoroughly.

  Nothing can stop us now.

  “Trust me when I say, London is nothing,” she pleads.

  “Okay,” I acquiesce to her request.

  “If you want to make this work, then I trust you,” I add.

  “Of course, I do!” she cries.

  She buries her head in my chest, and I hold her close.

  “Then, I don’t need to know,” I say.

  I have to trust her.

  This only works if we rely on each other.

  If there’s trust that we need.

  So far, she hasn’t disappointed me yet.

  “We need a new agreement,” I tell her.

  Back in the suite, we are alone, and our private business is ours again.

  “What terms? Our current agreement works fine,” she says with her sassy tone back in place.

  Whatever weakness I saw has faded.

  Damn it.

  “The rule, about no sleep-overs,” I start.

  “No,” she replies firmly.

  “Why? Are you still mad about Leigha?” my voice has an edge to it.

  “That has nothing to do with it, I like my space,” she lies.

  “That’s a lie, you’re afraid,” I respond.

  “Point blank, you are afraid,” I repeat.

  It’s easy for me to point out.

  “Evan this only works if we-” she starts again.

  “If we compromise?” I interrupt.

  “Compromise, right,” she reminds herself.

  “Sleepovers was never part of the deal,” Vic adds.

  “We’ll come back to that,” I tell her.

  Vic pours us both a drink and brings mine to me as I sit back against the couch and loosen my tie.

  She sits across from me on the coffee table, her legs crossed at the ankle.

  “What do you want then?” I ask.

  “A temporary truce, something we can revisit,” she tells me.

  “Is that hon
estly what you want?” I ask her.

  “Because I don’t want temporary, I want real. What we had before, that was temporary. Is this not real to you?” I rationalize.

  “I’ve got too much on my plate to worry about-” Vic begins.

  “I’m not your boyfriend, I’m more than that,” I scoff at her.

  “Right, you're my dominant, that doesn’t mean you control me outside of the bedroom,” she responds.

  “Again, with this!” I’m exasperated.

  “You really want this to be all about sex, don’t you?” I taunt her.

  “Yes,” her reply is solid.

  “What are you so afraid of?” I implore her to respond.

  “I’m not afraid,” she says.

  “Yes, you are,” I bounce back.

  “No, I’m not,” she replies.

  “You are,” I am firm.

  “Whatever,” her reply is dismissive.

  I hate that.

  “Fine, temporary truce. You decide, by January first, whether this is either over, or it’s more than what you think it is. I’m not going to linger around and wait for you to realize how much you need me. I’ve got better things to do,” I say, my voice steady.

  But, my heart beats right out of my chest!

  Henri!

  I do not want her to walk.

  “Fine,” she agrees.

  I want to renege, go back to what I said because I gave her three days to decide what she wants from me.

  If she can’t decide in months, three days is going to push her away.

  I hope I’m stronger than that.

  “And, you sleep in my bed,” I tell her firmly.

  Her eyes are downcast for a moment before she looks me dead in the face.

  “Okay,” her voice shakes.

  “One more thing, I want,” I tell her.

  “What’s that?” Vic is steady again.

  In a flash, she goes from vulnerable to her sure, confident self.

  “I want you to say my name when we are making love in our bed,” I say.

  Her eyes widen a bit.

  Then, she nods.

  I put the glass down, tug her by the hair towards me, and kiss her for all it’s worth.

  13

  Victoire

  December 28, 2017

  This time when Evan kisses me, I have no choice but to let him in.

  I don’t want deadlines!