Love Unbound (A Steamy Billionaire Romance) Read online

  “No, there's no problem there.” Cameron smiles. “He's moving in.”

  “That's something new. Domesticity hits Notting Hill. There'll be a news release.” I wonder how long it will last. Maybe it's serious this time.

  Cameron laughs. “When I get a dog and start grocery shopping at the weekend you'll know there's been a revolution. Until then it's just Chris moving in.”

  I'm happy for him. I'm happy for the cleaning woman and the receptionist with the sky blue nails today. Fuck even the forest in my office looks chirpy—maybe Sofia watered the plants or something.

  “I need a couple of plane tickets to Nice for the weekend,” I tell her. “And a car.”

  “You have that gala dinner on Saturday,” she says.

  “Cancel it.”

  “It's a charity auction thing.”

  “Send them a donation, a big one. Cameron and his new squeeze can go to keep an eye on the clients there. Trust me. The charity people don't want me, just my money.”

  I call Victoria. Even the thought of what I hope she'll say about a weekend away warms me, making me smile.

  “Are you in today?” I ask.

  “Yes, why?”

  “For a delivery.”

  “I have all the things I could possibly need.”

  “Not this.”

  “You sent me a horse?”

  “You need a horse?”

  “No but it's the only thing I don't have. What is it?”

  “You'll have to wait and see.” I'm like a kid at Christmas.

  She calls me after I send Miller around.

  “You sent me a Louis Vuitton suitcase full of stuff,” she says, “and a plane ticket. Thank you but is this how you get rid of women? By sending them to the South of France in style?” I can tell she's smiling.

  “I have a matching ticket,” I say. “I want to take you to my place in Antibes. Are you free this weekend?”

  “Oh I'll have to consult my diary,” she teases.

  “If it's booked, I'll buy you a new one with a blank page.”

  “Well I was dancing at the Tempest and serving espresso, lemon meringue pie and macaroons in a coffee shop until some guy came along and wiped out my whole social calendar.”

  “I like that guy.”

  “Me too,” she says, “but sometimes he's quite bossy.”

  “Bossy? I like telling you what to do, if that's what you mean.”

  “That's exactly what I mean. As I said you're quite the control freak Mr. Lynch.”

  “I thought you quite liked that up to a point, Miss Bronson, but you have no idea how good it can be.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Victoria

  Ash's house in Antibes overlooks the Mediterranean. I could stay there forever. The mild sunshine of an early spring afternoon is perfect for lounging around, drinking French wine and kissing. It feels like time has stood still and we are living in the moment, letting the world go by.

  “I love it here,” he says. “I forget how frantic my life is when I'm here.”

  “Do you use it to entertain clients?”

  “That was the idea when I bought it but I've always hesitated to bring anyone here. That's work. This is peace.”

  “It's bliss,” I say, hugging the thought to myself that he brought me here despite me being officially “work” too.

  “Do you want to swim?” he asks.

  There's a beautiful pool with crystal clear water or the sea, but I'm too content lying there soaking up the rays of sunshine after a gloomy British winter.

  “Maybe later.”

  “Lazybones,” he says and dives into the pool. I content myself watching as he moves through the water slick like a seal, his muscles cutting through the surface.

  The rhythm of his strokes continues and mesmerized, I nod off and only wake to find him dripping over me.

  “Hey! That water's wet.”

  “I bet that's not the only thing,” he says looking down as my nipples bud in the bikini—one of the multitude of things that was delivered in the suitcase. That look he gives me always has an instant effect. I shift about on my sun lounger.

  “We should go in,” he says, “in case you burn.”

  I do burn in the sun if I'm not careful, the curse of red hair, but I don't think that's why he wants to get me inside. And I'm all too ready to go in after watching him in the pool and that look from him.

  “Come and shower with me,” he says.

  The shower is huge with plenty of room for two but I used it alone this morning. He had business calls to make he wanted to get out of the way so the rest of the weekend would be all ours. And I was happy enough to have time alone to relive the memory of our first night in Antibes—the way he had taken me in the hall against the wall, on the couch, on the rug in front of the open fire and finally on the bed until we fell asleep exhausted.

  And now it looks like we will be christening the shower too.

  “That bikini is too sexy to resist. If you hadn't come in I might have done something that would shock the seagulls.”

  “We can't have the seagulls being corrupted, can we?” I swear, if he doesn't stop looking at me like that I'm going to explode.

  He hooks his finger in the chain linking the two cups of the bikini top and pulls me to him.

  “I like these little chain things,” he says.

  There are chains at my hips too and he runs the fingers of his other hand around the chain on one side and then delves between my legs.

  “Just as I thought,” he says. “Soaking.”

  “Do you have a thing about chains as well as ribbon?” I ask, blushing and trying to change the subject.

  “Oh better than ribbon, but we won't go there again.”

  “We can if you like. I'd like to try again, now I know you'll stop if I tell you to.”

  He smiles like I just gave him a Louis Vuitton suitcase full of clothes and a plane ticket.

  “Oh,” he says. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

  My breath hitches at his words. “Just not too good,” I say. “Just not so good I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Just a tiny bit less than that,” he says.

  My stomach jolts. What did I just agree to? But he's pulling off my bikini and his swim shorts and kissing me, his hands in my hair, his firm body and the hard length of him pressed against me, so there's no time to worry.

  But he doesn't tie me up. He sets the shower going and we get in, then he lathers up his hands as the warm water sluices over us and works his hands over my body, every inch, until I am panting with need for him. He takes me against the shower wall, pumping into me hot and hard between my slippery thighs as I wrap them around him. I feel dizzy with need and desire wiping out every thought. I've never felt like this. Ever.

  “Shit, no condom.” He groans and makes to get out of the shower.

  “Does it matter?” I ask, anxiously. Fuck! How could I let that happen? “I'm on the pill. I'm clean.” Hell, I made sure I was clean after Jimmy. What about him?

  But he grins. “Clean bill of health here too.” And he runs his hands over my body once more, caressing my wet soapy breasts, my behind, my stomach, getting us both back in the moment before plunging back inside me.

  “Turn around,” he says and presses me against the wall, reaching around to play with my clit as the water beats down on us and he enters me again, thrusting hard in and out. It's too much to take, the action of his fingers, the way he's filling me over and over, the delicious anticipation of release. I cry out through the stream of water calling his name and he sinks into me once more as I clench around him. “Oh baby, you are so fucking good,” he groans and his cock pulses inside me as he comes.

  It's almost time to dress for dinner by the time we come out of the shower. For a guy who has bought me so many clothes, it feels like he never wants me to wear any for long.

  We have dinner on a beach side restaurant under the stars along the coast—braziers keeping the evening chil
l off.

  I smile at him. “It's beautiful here.”

  “I always thought so,” he says, “but I don't know if I appreciated it before—not as much as I have this weekend. Thank you.”

  “Thank me?”

  “You made it special so yes thank you.”

  “You're welcome.” I smile at him. “You brought me here so thank you too.”

  “I know just how we can thank each other,” he says.

  CHAPTER 25

  Ash

  I want to take Victoria back to the house and fuck her hard until I can't fuck any more but she seems open to play and I don't want to scare her off again. I need to stop myself from going too fast this time but it's difficult. I want to see her writhing against chains, making them rattle, desperate for my cock. There's no feeling like that in the world, that sense of control, domination over a woman and I suspect how it would feel to control this particular woman will be beyond even that. Something deep and dark in me wants to see her crying out, pulling at the chains, helpless and vulnerable. Though I'll never take advantage of her like that, she won't know that. She'll only feel that total control I have over her body and her pleasure.

  When I nuzzle her neck, she smells of the jasmine soap I keep in all my houses and the perfume I gave her but I know when I uncover her, when I have her spread and wanting, there'll be another scent—the scent of desire, a much more seductive scent, her essence. I want to experience that scent and the taste of her over and over again. I can't get enough of her.

  Riding back in the car, she snuggles against me and I can sense her mind going into overdrive after I suggest we try something new, something fun using chains when we get back.

  “You don't have to do this,” I say.

  “I want to,” she says, “but I'd like to know a bit more about it.”

  “And spoil the surprise?”

  “It's only a surprise if it's a good thing, otherwise it's a shock.”

  “Believe me this will be a surprise but okay then, what do you want to know?”

  “How big are the chains, big clunky things or fine and delicate?”

  “Both. A chain with a bit of weight is great for making you know it's there. I have a thick black chain that will look great against your pale skin.”

  “But where will you put it?”

  “Crossing over your body in all kinds of interesting ways. That bit will be a surprise.”

  She gulps. “What about the thin ones?”

  “I like the jeweled ones for attaching to more delicate areas.”

  “Attaching?” Her eyes are wide.

  “With little jeweled clips.”

  “Does that hurt?”

  “Only if you don't like it. We can try—you will feel it as either painful or the most pleasure you can have with your clothes off.”

  I hear her sharp intake of breath but I don't know if it's fear or excitement. I hope even if she fears it she'll be willing to try.

  CHAPTER 26

  Victoria

  I'm not sure whether to share his obvious excitement or to run for the hills. He's going to put chains on me, tie me to something so I can't move and pleasure me until I beg again. I know what that is like at least. That part I do want and perhaps the only reason I won't run away.

  We are back at the villa very quickly, much quicker than I anticipate. Ash ushers me inside, his hand as ever on my back. Is this why he wants me because he senses I will let him dominate me and tie me up even though I didn't let him take it very far the first time?

  As soon as we are through the heavy door and Gaston has taken the car away to put in the garage, Ash says, “Take off your dress. I want you naked.”

  I want to obey but for some reason I feel the need to assert my independence tonight.

  “What if I don't want to?”

  “Oh, you want to.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I can see it in your eyes. Take it off.”

  “No I think I'll leave it on a little longer if it's all the same to you.”

  “You want me to rip it off?”

  “No!” That came out sharper than I meant. I can't stand the thought of him ripping that lovely silk dress.

  “You want me to bend you over, pull it up to your waist and spank you for disobedience?”

  I hesitate a moment too long at the idea of that.

  “Right,” he says, with a chuckle. “That's the way you want to play it. It will be my pleasure.” He grabs my hand and leads me into the living room, switching on subtle lighting at the switch near the door. He grabs a chair and puts it in front of the glass doors that lead out onto a terrace facing the beach and then pulls me over his lap.

  “You switched on the light, Ash. Anyone on the beach can see what you're doing to me.”

  “You should have thought of that first, shouldn't you?” he says, “before you provoked me. What a treat this will be for anyone out there watching.”

  He has me firmly over his legs and he holds me down. I struggle a bit but I don't really mean it, excitement and desire along with the champagne we had earlier wiping away all sense of shame.

  “Anyway,” he continues, “it's a private beach and only Gaston and his wife have access other than us, and I'm sure Gaston has plans with Mrs. Gaston rather than any idea of watching.”

  I can tell he's amused at my struggles as I make my token protest.

  “Let's see this pretty bottom of yours,” he says and pulls my dress up over my back and my panties down around my thighs. I'm breathless with need. Who knew it would be like this. It's so undignified lying over his lap like this...but so…hot.

  “A perfect peach,” he says, “but lacking in color. We can...correct...that”

  He pulls back his hand and strikes me and I gasp as the heat rises to the surface of my skin. Before I have a chance to think how I feel about it he hits me again in the same place and then twice on the other cheek.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he says, smoothing his hand over my skin. “You want more? Just say if you don't.”

  I say nothing. I want to experience this. I'm ashamed that I do but I want him to continue. I feel desire pooling between my legs. I want this so much. I want to experience everything...with him.

  He spanks me until I feel the heat rising from my behind and I can hear little sobs coming from my throat, but I don't tell him to stop.

  “That's enough,” he says gruffly, and picks me up from his lap letting my dress float down cool over my hot buttocks, holding me between his strong thighs, his face nestling between my breasts.

  He looks up. “You're okay?”

  I nod. “Yes. I'm okay.” I smile at him. My behind is stinging but I'm more than okay. Warm buttery feelings are making me need him more than ever.

  “Fuck me,” I say. “I need you to fuck me.”

  His face lights up then. “God in heaven, you're an angel!” Then he gets a mischievous look on his face. “Now take your dress off.”

  I match his cheeky look, holding his eye and slip my dress right off so I'm standing there naked, my panties around my thighs.

  “I think I'll help you with those,” he says, indicating my remaining underwear. “I don't want any more arguments.” and he pulls them right down so I can step out of them. “Now the library.”

  “You have a library?”

  “What can I say? I like to read.”

  “I have a Kindle for that.”

  “I have one of those too but it's not very handy for a place to fuck.” He laughs.

  My insides clench at his words. I know how it feels when he fucks me and I want that more than anything at this moment.

  The library has a couple of big leather couches—old fashioned Chesterfields in dark leather with scroll arms and button backs. I expect him to lead me to one of those couches but he doesn't. He lays me on my back over the big partner desk instead, the kind that graced lawyers’ offices in years gone by. I'm expecting him to chain me to it or something at any moment
but he doesn't. He just kisses down my body and licks me between my legs where I’m so wet I fear I’ll make a puddle somewhere unseemly on that beautiful piece of furniture that is probably a priceless antique.

  “Soon,” he says as if reading my mind. “I'm going to see how you look in those chains but first I'm going to fuck you harder than I've ever fucked you before so you know what you'll be getting once I have you bound and unable to move.”

  I gulp at his words. I didn't think harder was even possible, but I'm ready. I feel my hot behind against the cool leather surface of the desk as he pulls out his cock.

  “Pull up your legs,” he says. “Hold them behind your knees. Open yourself up to me, baby.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Ash

  I expect her to obey and she does. The flower of her cunt is open to my eyes and there's no more beautiful sight or scent in the world than her wet and open to me like this ready for me. I can't wait any longer. I plunge right in. It's fucking heaven in there. But some kind of madness urges me on, urges me to plunder and nail and wreck without mercy because I have to possess her, own her, control her as no one has ever had her before.

  She's tight but also so wet there's no barrier as I hammer into her, ramming my body against her clit making her squeal and squirm and cry out, music to my ears, urging my cock on to further fury and desecration.

  I bang her over and over, filling every crevice, thrusting her raw buttocks against the desk as if trying to crack the wood and turn it to sticks, the desk that has stood the test of time for over a hundred and fifty years of gentle lawyerly scribing. I thrust on and on with no let up until I know she's coming and she calls out my name and grabs my arms, and I release in hot spurts like molten lava, erupting in bursts inside her, feeling her channel clamping around me.

  Neither of us can breathe or look at the other. Something changed there and I'm not sure I want to acknowledge it yet. It's too raw, unbidden. Unwelcome. More than fucking. It has always been different with her, passionate, wild, more meaningful than with anyone else. My brain whispers how I feel about her and yet rebels at the thought. No! I can't go there.