Seduced By the Sinful Billionaire

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I woke up smothered in a bundle of cotton sheets. I tossed, groping across the bed for Jack, but I was met with more pile of sheets. I wriggled myself from the bedding, and picked up his scrunched shirt from the large area rug. I brought it to my nose and inhaled his intoxication scent—fresh water, mint and a hint of oud. The smoky and woody notes made his scent exceptionally rare and rich. I wrapped my arms around the shirt, reminiscing our steamy lovemaking last night. I chortled at the memory, my face instantly turning crimson. He was still not out of my system, but I needed food. Now!

Crap!

I forgot to phone Lana last night that I wouldn’t make it home, but then again, I still didn’t have my phone. I turned to his enormous bedside table and saw my phone and purse laying on the top shelf. I smiled, then picked it up. I tapped away across the screen—no calls from Lana. She was probably busy with marking and grading or she thought I still didn’t have my phone yet. Either way, I was glad to be reunited with my phone.

Life hadn’t been too stressful without it, although Nate had been on my case for weeks about my unresponsiveness to emails. I noticed a number saved under the initials JM, and I instantly knew he had put his number in my phone. Invading my privacy, I’d say— but I wasn’t surprised!

I enveloped myself in his shirt, feeling incredibly petite after fastening the buttons. I exited his bedroom and was instantly hit by the tantalizing aroma of coffee and eggs. I descended the flight of stairs and wondered in search for Jack. I took a minute to drink in my surrounding, his enormous living room, the luxurious bespoke designed couches and sofas. Everything was just magnificent, he had an exquisite taste—of course he did. He practically owned the whole terrain McCullen Confectionery was situated at. I strode past the living room, rounding the corner to see an ultra-modern, spacious kitchen. I made out Jack behind a massive centre island. The island was square with a thick, polished marble worktop. The kitchen was designed with white and soft grey colour palette, brightly lit with recessed lighting and a large, circular crystal chandelier hanging overhead. Every inch of his kitchen screamed opulence.

“Hey,” I said, pulling one of the high-back stools to sink into.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, popping a slice of strawberry into his mouth. He looked so divine and yummy. I wanted to eat him.

“I did.”

“I didn’t want to wake you. I planned on bringing breakfast to you in bed.” he said, pointing to the platter of food he had meticulously curated.

Oh my God.

“It looks amazing, Jack.” I said, clasping my hands together on the worktop. “We can simply eat here,” I added, still processing this sweet gesture. I did a double take, staring at every piece of item on the platter.

“Anything here you don’t fancy?” he asked, and I shook my head. The breakfast platter was a medley of sweet and savoury staples, already in a breakfast in bed theme.

The large white plate was packed with a variety of sweet treats: three stacks of pancakes, topped with blueberries, slices of strawberry, and a drizzle of maple syrup; a slice of French toast; and three mini chocolate croissants.

The savoury elements included a generous serving of scrambled eggs, and strips of bacon. On the side sat a yoghurt parfait, layered with granola, bananas, strawberries and blueberries. A mimosa in a flute glass and a café latte crowned with heart-shaped latte art completed the spread.

Where did he learn to whip up a latte like a professional?

He did all this for me? I was lost for words. Not to talk of the single stemmed red rose and the note that he tucked to the side. This was the most romantic gesture I had ever received. I wanted to walk to him and smother him in kisses and weep. Speech had evaded me entirely.

“This is yours.” he said, lifting the rose from the worktop and pointing it right at me. I just sat motionless, watching him as he held the rose in his outstretched hand.

He strode beside me, hoisting me from the stool onto the worktop. He leaned down, bringing our faces to the same level. I turned my face away from him, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

“Hey, look at me,” Jack said tilting my face to meet his eyes. “Did I do something wrong” he said, gazing into my blurry eyes. I shook my head slowly. “Speak to me baby, is it something you’re allergic to? In here?” he asked pointing to the beautiful platter at the centre.

“N…o.” I said, my voice quivering as I spoke. I sniffled, tears rolling freely from my face—he winced at my tears, learned in and kissed the them away, then brushed off the remnants with the back of his knuckles. He went at it for a couple of seconds before I finally spoke.

“No one has ever done anything like this for me, I’m so overwhelmed”

“Come here, baby.” he purred, lifting me from the worktop by the waist. I’m straddled around his waist—his head buried in my thick hair. He had his hand around my waist and the other stroking my hair.

“Hush now…I’m fortunate I get to show you how special you are,”

He jerked away, staring straight into my eyes. His lips curving into a smile, coaxing me into a smile.

“You’re so beautiful, even when you cry.” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine.

“What does the note say?” I asked with a muffled voice, my arms cross-locking around his neck.

“It says: Last night will be etched forever in my memory.”

“Will it?” I asked, circling his nose with mine. Our intimacy was transcendent, I wanted nothing more than be in his arms always.

He nodded.

“It always will, Robin.” he said, pressing his lips against mine, our tongues rolling together in a steady, non-urgent pace.

******

I was strapped into Jack’s Aston Martin after the emotional connection we’d shared over breakfast and our warm bath together. He had been so loving, tender and gentle that it made me question all the negative assumptions I had of him prior. His gesture was thoughtful and moving, and couldn’t help letting the emotions spill out.

Still, I felt self-aware about showing too much: about showing how much I cared, about showing I was beginning to develop feelings for him…

Was I really ready for that? Was I ready to finally move on from Mason—from the pain? The constant lies he told me? The cheating?

Loving Jack felt like stepping into a danger zone. He had red flags engraved all over him. The man looked incredibly irresistible—but how long before I was added to his long list of girls he’d shagged and ditched?

“Are you okay? You seemed lost in thought,” he asked, glancing at me before turning his eyes back to the road.

He did know when to ask spot on questions. Of course, I was lost in thought—thoughts about you! Who wouldn’t be?

“I’m alright,” I said, shooting him a faint smile. He leaned to the side and took my hand, lifting it to his cheek and lingering there.

“I hope you know there’s no turning back now.” he muttered. “You’re mine” he stated, as a matter of fact.

He actually meant the stuff he said during s*x? I thought they were merely s*x talk.

“I’ve never desired anything in my life more than I desire you.” he added.

What was I to do with all the information he was throwing at me? I didn’t want to fall for him, only to get hurt. He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles one after the other.

“Jack…”

“Robin.”

“How old are you?” I asked, his attention drifting from the road to me.

“Are you going to run away if I told you?” he muttered. His voice quivering with worry, concern and fear.

“No, I’m not. You already know I’m 24 years, it’s only fair I knew yours.” I said.

“You’re going to see me as too old for you” he said, rounding to the front of my apartment.

Huh? He had me all night without knowing his age. Why would he think I cared?

He pulled up the car and turned sharply to face me. His hand slipping into my hair and massaging at the scalp. It felt amazing.

“I’m 39 years, Robin. Apparently not that old, am I?

I nodded. His grin increasing as he stroked my face with the back of his hand. He brought his forehead to mine, pressing it together.

“Promise me you’re not going to run, Robin.” He jerked his face back, staring deeply into my eyes—probing for an answer.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jack.”

“I’m not going to allow you to,” he said, holding my chin up.

Our lips crashed together in a passionate kiss. He cupped my cheek, shoving his tongue desperately into my mouth as I tugged back, rolling our tongues together. He gripped my waist and pulled me onto his lap with a swift jerk, my breathing was a quivering mess, my skin flushing bright red. I leaned in, tracing kisses along his neck, and over every inch of his face. He was so beautiful.

“You drive me insane lady.” he whispered, holding my face steady and tracing kisses along my entire face. His hands traced my back and unzipped my dress, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. With enough space created, he shoved his hand into my dress, cupping my breast. His thumb circling and rubbing my n****e over and over.

“Get up.” I obeyed, pushing my weight onto my arm and lifting my backside from his lap. He pulled up my dress over my waist in a swift yank.

“Jack…” I panted. My breath hitching in anticipation. “What are you doing”

“Shush,” he murmured, tugging down my knickers and rubbing my c**t with his right hand, so that his left thumb circled my n****e and his right thumb flicked over my c**t. I was drowning deep in pleasure.

“Jesus Robin. You’re so affected by me, you’re drenched down here.” he continued his torture, watching me dissolve in frustration. He yanked the collar of my dress down, leaving my breast bare. Then, he took my n****e deep into his mouth— working it desperately, licking and sucking hard, again and again and again.

“Jack…God” I cried, molten heat rippling through me, burning my groin, as my breathing hitched, going into full ragged gasps— every nerve on fire for him. He worked my p***y urgently now, flicking his thumb over and over my c**t until it was beating fiercely.

“I’m close, Jack.” I shouted, he jerked away from my breast and pressed his lips firmly against mine, muffling my moans. I tensed all over—whimpering. The pressure in my groin exploding in a quick blast. I jerked my legs on his lap as they shook uncontrollably, sinking my teeth into his lower lip, making him groan softly. He endured until the quivers abated, then released his lips gently from my mouth, slightly bruised and red.

“Better?” he asked, licking his wet thumb dry. He pressed his lips gently against mine and zipped me up, before pulling my knickers over my backside.

“If I have you in this car, you’re going to attract an audience.” he murmured, a smirk playing at his lip. He swung the door open, set me on my feet, then leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“You taste so f*****g good”

His hot breath against my skin causing a rush of heat to crash between my thighs.

“Jack” I moaned softly on his lips.

“I know baby.” he said, kissing me. “I know”

My body responded to him in ways I didn’t know was possible, like it was the most primal thing to do. I’m totally at his mercy.

He controlled my entire being.

He watched me disappear to the front door before getting in his car, his tires screeching against the road as the roar of his engine burned off into the distance.

I twisted the doorknob, but it refused to budge…it was locked.

Was Lana not home?

I flashed the screen of my phone on, it was nine in the morning! Where had she ran off to this early on a Saturday? I dug into my purse for my spare keys, unlocked the door and pushed it open and stopped short, utterly dumbfounded about the scene unfolding before me. I shut my eyes and opened them again, hoping I was hallucinating—but I wasn’t. The quiet moans slipping from their lips made it clear this wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, it was reality.

“What the f**k is happening here?” I blurted out, sending two startled faces snapping toward me.