Boxed Set: A Possessive Billionaire - Vol. 1-3: His, Body and Soul Page 4

  “You should wear thigh-high stockings,” he says, pulling down my tights and panties to mid-thigh. I can’t help but let him do what he pleases, even though I’m sure I look ridiculous. But I can’t let my mind linger on this thought. I moan without realizing what’s happening. His right hand returns to my breasts and his fingers twist my nipples. It’s both painful and delicious.

  His other hand explores in between my thighs. His fingers are curious, I guide them despite myself, bending my legs. My heart beats as if it’s going to explode. I’m not in control anymore, my hips move on their own to follow and press against his caresses. I close my eyes.

  “Calm down,” he breathes while suddenly biting my neck. Now I feel his entire body burning against mine. His powerful torso through his shirt, his muscular thighs, and especially his sex against my butt. I want him inside of me. He must be able to read my mind. With a confident gesture, he grabs my thigh, places my foot on the side of the elevator and penetrates me all of a sudden. The sensation is brutal and exhilarating, I feel as if I’m possessed. I think I’m going to scream. I feel his breath on my neck and his teeth in my flesh, biting deeper with every thrust of his hips. And then, everything speeds up, I lose my bearings, I no longer know who or where I am.

  When I finally snap out of it, I find myself looking at his hands once again. My skirt is back where it belongs and my blouse is being buttoned up. He gently grabs me by my wrist and moves my finger away from the stop button. The elevator resumes its ascent. The doors open. I mechanically walk towards my door like a sleepwalker.

  “Emma!”

  “Yes?”

  “You forgot your bag…”

  He hands me my bag with a smile I’m not sure how to interpret. Looking at his lips, I realize we didn’t even kiss.

  The next instant, I collapse onto my bed, exhausted.

  10. The awakening

  I woke up around noon, still dressed on my bed. It took a little time to get my mind together. When I finally regained consciousness, I was horrified. I had slept with Delmonte! No, worse than that. I let Delmonte take me in the elevator! Like a maid. He didn’t even bother to kiss me. I’m furious…and still upset. All I have to do is think about it and I shiver, it’s as if my body still resonated with his caresses. It was nothing like the passionate night I might have dreamed of, but I had never felt anything like that before. So intense, such a loss of control…I need to think about something else, and quick.

  That said, this adventure again brings up the question of what our relationship is all about. At least, it does for me. I don’t know about him, though. Is this something he usually does? Seduce the maids in the elevator? Oh my god! Did he sleep with my cousin? No, he couldn’t have! I have to talk to him. But I don’t dare. Yet we’re so intimate now, it shouldn’t be too hard. ‘Hello, Charles, I was wondering, actually…what exactly is going on between us?’ Perfect, excellent. This relationship, if it is one, starts with healthy communication.

  There’s noise in the elevator. It’s him. He leaves his apartment holding something. I’m glued against my door, spying on him, I hold my breath. He’s there, looming in front of the elevator. Oh my god! He saw me! He’s looking at me! He moves towards the door. I can’t move, I can’t breathe. And then he disappears. I’m crazy, no doubt about it, this guy has bewitched me. I need a glass of water, I need to get myself together…and then I return to my lookout. He hasn’t disappeared, he’s getting into the elevator. This time, alone.

  I slide down to the ground, out of breath, as if I’d been running. I’m ridiculous. How could this guy have such an effect on me? Obviously, if I had had a more normal sex life in the past, I wouldn’t be acting this way. I’m going to get some air, I need it. I open the door with a completely different energy. On my doormat, there’s a little paper bag that I must have overlooked in my haste. I go back inside.

  It’s an ancient box. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so pretty, it’s wooden and has accents of what look like mother-of-pearl. The accents are arranged in Arabic diamond-shaped patterns. It’s magnificent. Inside, two papers. The first is a certificate of authenticity. The box is indeed inlaid with mother-of-pearl, it dates back to the beginning of the last century and comes from Syria. The second paper is a white card, which simply reads “Happy Birthday”. It’s soberly signed ‘C. Delmonte’. I’m in heaven. After all, that crazy moment in the elevator, could it have been the prologue to something romantic? But looking a little closer, I notice there’s something else. I thought it was the inner lining of the box, but I was wrong. It’s a silky, black material…stockings!

  I don’t know how to interpret this. Holding these silk stockings in my hands brings me back inexorably to the moment when he pulled down my tights. And again, I’m breathless, this is going to have to stop!

  What should I think about all of this? A charming and probably priceless gift. And then another, overtly sexual one. Does he think I’m his girlfriend? I can’t stop thinking of the 19th century French novels, where the rich aristocrat keeps his mistress in an apartment to take advantage of her as he pleases…The situation is humiliating, but the memory of last night is still too fresh in my flesh, I yearn for the sensual pleasure. The next moment I’m in my underwear and stockings in front of the mirror. He’s right, it looks much better. Except my light blue bra and panties are pathetic and these stockings will never stay up on their own for more than ten minutes. My bra and panties fall to the ground. I’m in the stockings. Nude. I inspect myself. What would Delmonte think? What would he say if he was here? Behind the door…I close my eyes for a moment, I savor these new sensations aroused by simply think of him.

  “Mademoiselle Maugham! A package for you!”

  If ever a voice was capable of extinguishing all of my ardor, it’s that one. The building caretaker.

  “I’m coming!” I yell, as if I lived in a 120 m2 apartment. I throw on a robe and cough, as if to justify why I’m not dressed at noon in the middle of the week…

  It’s from my father! A care package for my birthday! Cookies, sweets, a card, a scarf from my grandmother and a nice letter. I decide to enjoy my day walking around Paris. I deserve this, after all of this emotion. When I get back, I’ve made my decision, I’m going to clear things up with Charles Delmonte.

  I don’t have the opportunity to clear things up. I haven’t seen him for five days. I’m still as lost as I was before. I don’t know where I am. What I want. What he might see me as. What I’m willing to accept. I feel that, at least for me, it’s more than sex. But what about him?

  I work like a fanatic to forget about the images that race through my mind when I stop concentrating. His hands on me. My skirt on the ground…I spend my time at the library. Manon makes fun of me. She’s saying that I’m projecting. That I’m pouring all of my sexual tension into my studies. She’s not exactly wrong…

  11. Gourmet delights

  Just when I’ve given up on waiting, a taxi appears along the sidewalk next to me, as if by magic. It’s 7:00 pm, I’ve finished studying for the day and am rushing home.

  “Emma!”

  My lord, he looks so tired and sad! However, he’s smiling at me. I can’t hold a grudge against him for his silence, I can only smile back.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  He smiles at me again, now more honestly.

  “How about we go for dinner?”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “Great, I’ll come by your place at 9:00 pm. And…Emma?”

  “Yes?”

  “You have a black dress, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Of course? Why did I say that? Yes, I have a black dress. The same one I’ve had since I was fifteen years old. It’d be better to just call it a sheath. A grey, outdated sheath. When he sees me like that, I’m sure he won’t want to go to dinner anymore.

  Luckily, today I have
matching underwear. And a black garter belt that I finally decided to buy to hold up my new stockings.

  When he knocks on my door, I’m ready, squeezed in my dress.

  “Emma, good god. It’s even worse than I thought it would be!”

  He collapses onto my bed and studies me while laughing.

  “What is this tragedy? I’ll bet that you’ve had it since high school, right?”

  “No.”

  I look at my feet. I knew it. I’m humiliated and furious. I’m going to kick him out. I look at him with the sourest look I can manage. He’s still beaming.

  “Stop, you’re scaring me. Look, I brought you something.”

  He hands me a Dior bag. I open it, still furious. Inside, a black cocktail dress. It’s incredibly light, I worry that I’m going to rip it. My mouth drops open. I want to say that it’s gorgeous, but what does this really mean? What does he think I am?

  “Try it on, I wasn’t sure about the size…”

  “But I…This is a gift?”

  “Yes. But if you don’t like it, you can always give it back to me after dinner. Take this horror off.”

  He looks at me. Candidly. He must think that I’m going to take off my dress in front of him, just like that. I blush. He must have understood because he pretends to look through the window. I quickly remove my old dress. Let’s see how this jewel fits.

  “Um, Emma…”

  He’s looking at me again, worried. I turn beet red.

  “Your underwear.”

  “What about them? They’re not good enough either?”

  “No, just take them off. I can see them through your dress.”

  I’m incredibly irritated, but I do it quickly. A moment later, I look at myself in the mirror. The dress is perfect. It’s exactly my size. I smile at Charles and smile at myself in the mirror, too. He comes behind me. With a confident gesture, he undoes my ponytail and arranges my hair around my shoulders. He seems to be thinking.

  “You don’t have any jewelry?”

  No. He thinks and then, as if moved by an invisible energy, disappears from my room, leaving the door open. He comes back a few seconds later with a jewelry box in his hands.

  “Emma, here are Lady MacAllister’s diamonds.”

  My facial expression betrays my ignorance.

  “Of course you don’t know who she is. She was a 19th century Scottish noblewoman. She was known for her moral depravity, her obscene fortune and her unbridled hunger for jewelry. I found this unique piece a few days ago and I immediately fell in love. I should have sold it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, this object fascinates me.”

  He opens the jewelry box. I’ve never seen anything like it. Three rows of small diamonds, cut by a green band. The desire to touch it is stronger than me.

  “They’re emeralds.”

  I let him place the necklace around my neck in a religious silence. I look at us in the mirror. We’re beautiful, that can’t be denied. I really want to kiss him. I turn around, rise up on my tiptoes and offer him my lips, which he takes with pleasure. I feel like I’m about to fall over, but he takes my face in his hands and purrs at me:

  “Emma, we’re going to be late. At least wait for dessert…”

  One minute later, we’re sitting in the back of a black sedan. Paris is ours. I’m used to taking the subway everywhere, so I watch the city go by from a completely new perspective. It’s fascinating, I almost forget about Charles. I’m sad to see the ride come to an end as we pull up to a stylish place along the Seine. A butler waits for us as we get out onto the sidewalk. I’ve never experienced anything like this, it’s as if we’re all alone in the restaurant. Actually it’s a private room, a table for just us two with a view of the river. The decoration is carefully chosen and everything is chiaroscuro. Dark red velvet, chandeliers, a centenary floor with warm oriental carpets spread out all over…despite the luxury, the place is warm. Like a cozy alcove. Someone is playing the piano somewhere, but they’re hidden from sight. It’s a romantic sonata, I’d guess either Chopin or Liszt. Something sweet and passionate, which perfectly matches the rest of the place. I look and I listen, as if I’m at a museum. When a young lady reverently brings the menu, I’ve almost forgotten that we’re in a restaurant. I could stay for hours like this, without talking, watching the lights of the city play across the Seine and the light of the candles in Charles’ eyes.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  I let Charles decide what we’ll eat. I’m ready to be surprised. Once again, he orders, but this time I’m not listening. I look at him, so perfectly at ease in his natural environment. The young lady soon returns with two wine glasses and small, mysterious ramekins, whose contents she announces pompously. Obviously I don’t understand anything she says. Charles notices my expression and winks at me.

  “Splendid, luxurious marvels in small pretentious ramekins,” he says, mocking the server once she leaves. I burst out laughing. I had no idea he could be this funny.

  “This wine…”

  “I remembered how much you like it…”

  We clink glasses, looking into each other’s eyes. The night is off to a delicious start, I get the feeling that it’s not the right time to talk about the ‘nature’ of our relationship. The sad expression he had earlier in the evening has vanished. He’s a big talker with a huge laugh. He tells me about Paris, its old stones, its little stories. The crowd he hangs out with is really amusing. I try to match his stories by talking about my father and his love for dinosaurs. He laughs. He has a dimple in the corner of his lip that captivates me.

  The server comes back from time to time to take our dishes and replace them with other marvels, launching into descriptions that always go over my head. Charles finds this wildly amusing and reformulates it all imaginatively:

  “Spleen of defeated princess with unicorn blood,” “Fried Edelweiss with tears of Trappist monk,” “Pickled dodo feathers”…I have no idea what I’m eating. In any case, it’s exquisite. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so refined…and with such good company.

  “I really want to hear you moan in this place.”

  “Pardon?”

  I clear my throat, and Charles comes to sit next to me.

  “You heard me,” he said, before sliding his tongue into my mouth. I melt…before coming back to my senses.

  “But we’re in a public place…and the server, don’t even think about it!”

  “It’s pretty deserted for a public place...And for our first meal, I ordered a very elaborate dessert that will take twenty minutes to make…Oops, my napkin.”

  He suddenly bends over and I feel his lips on my right ankle.

  Since he’s not going too far, I figure it’s not that risky. He just wants to play with my nerves, I think. His kisses circle my ankle and start edging up my calf. I remain stoic and try to think about something else, but a shiver quickly runs through my body and I remember that I’m not wearing underwear. It’s hot. I feel like my heart isn’t beating inside of my chest anymore, but in my lower stomach. I want to tell him to stop. Or beg him to continue. He’s in the middle of my thigh. I find it hard to breathe. I need to do something, to put an end to all of this. I start to open my mouth when he suddenly decides to change legs. Back to the ankle. It’s torture, but I can handle it so far, so I stop myself from protesting. Right now, he’s at the limit between the delicate silk stocking and my skin. He hovers around this limit. He goes around with little kisses, then slides his tongue underneath the fabric. It’s unbearable. I forget about the server, I do what he wants me to, I moan how he wants me to. I open my legs a little to invite him to continue…his tongue slides along my thigh and gently goes higher. I moan while his face comes close to my wet intimate parts. Suddenly, he lifts his head, shows me his napkin and sits back down.

  “I found my napkin. But I thought I heard you moaning,
did something happen?”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m furious, and frustrated. The server arrives right when I think I’m going to jump up and scratch him.

  “Delicious frustration on a velvet couch,” he says, winking, before digging in to his dessert

  12. A nightcap

  I’m not hungry anymore. How can you have an appetite when these kinds of things happen? When I think that I was almost ready to sleep with him in the middle of the restaurant…his dimples make me forget my brutal disappointment for a moment. Seeing him really enjoy his dessert helps me to finally swallow it down. I know that he’s doing this all on purpose. He takes his time, tasting each bite. He savors his victory. I can’t calm down, it’s as if each movement that I make releases waves of desire inside of me. He looks at me intensely, I feel like he’s eating me with his eyes. And then suddenly, he holds out his hand.

  “Let’s go.”

  A young man materializes out of nowhere with our things and the car appears as soon as we’re outside. I don’t think I saw him pay. Everything’s happening like in a dream.

  And again, we’re alone in the back of the car. I’m not sure what to do, but I know what I want. I place my hand on his thigh and gently slide it up, making my intentions very clear. Despite his erection, which reassures me and excites me even more, Charles grabs my hand and puts it back on my knee, like he would have done with a schoolgirl.

  “Not here, we’re not alone!”