A Billion Little Clues (22 page)

The elevator dinged open, and Roman swept me out into the penthouse suite. I barely managed to grab my panties off the floor before he had me airborne.

We landed on the bed, and swiftly set about making short work of each other's remaining clothing. I probably ripped half of the buttons completely off the man's shirt, but he didn't even pause. We were barely more than wild animals, now, pawing and tearing at each other's clothing as if we were cracking open the shell of a nut.

When Roman's pants finally came sliding down, revealing the treasure concealed within, I had to gasp. A little part of me had been getting myself ready for failure. What if the man was totally inadequate down there? What if he wasn't working with a fully adult size tool, to put it a little delicately? I'd still love him, of course, but I'd be a little disappointed, to say the least.

Fortunately, that was most definitely not the case.

In fact, at first as I stared at him, my thoughts were the opposite. "Oh my god," I gasped. "You're a billionaire, and you've got that weapon hidden away in your pants? You're like a god!"

"Oh, just wait," Roman hissed back, still in motion. A second later, my dress fell off of my shoulders, peeling down, and his hands and mouth were all over me, tracing erotic little patterns over my chest, my shoulders, my areolas.

This first time, there was no patience for foreplay. Just the thought of waiting any longer sent us into a frenzy. Instead, as soon as the last shreds of clothing were stripped from our bodies, Roman was on me, on top of me.

Inside me.

#

All I could remember of that first time was the ever-pressing need, taking over everything else. I needed to feel him inside me, to have him as deep as I could manage, to let him split me apart as I gave myself to him utterly. I was like a wildcat beneath him, clawing red lines on his shoulders as I pulled him in on top of me.

For his part, Roman gave just as hard as he got. His hips, resting down between my spread legs, were a blur of motion as he pumped up and down. He was rewarded with a gasp every time he slid in to his full length, filling me practically to bursting. His hands were in constant motion, flicking, pinching, sometimes rubbing at other areas to send extra waves of shallow pleasure coursing through me.

It wasn't long before I felt my finish welling up in me, a hot wave of bubbling lava coursing up to the surface, the imminent eruption. From Roman's gasps, he wanted it too, and was drawing close. Just hold on a few more seconds!

He pushed me over the edge - and then came tumbling after me himself.

Afterwards, after the moans and cries of pure ecstasy had finally drifted down to soft murmurs of continued pleasure as we kept on running our hands over each other, we splayed out on the bed together. And for a time, we just remained that way, the urgency muted now as we explored each other's bodies with our hands, tongues, other parts.

After about twenty minutes, just as I was beginning to find myself slipping into a coma of relaxed pleasure, I noticed that Roman's touches were growing more intense, more needing. When I looked over at him, I could see his eyes were once again alight with intensity.

This second time was slower, more romantic, than the first. The edge had already been taken off of our desires, so now we could relax, take things easy as we tested the limits of what we could do. We were no longer clutching at each other, grabbing in a wild effort to get as close as possible. Instead, we shifted around, trying out different positions, and I began to appreciate just how amazing it was to be having sex with a guy who regularly practices yoga.

Even despite our slowed and gentler pace, this orgasm, when it finally came, was just as powerful. In fact, I'd swear that it lasted even longer, as I rocked and shook in Roman's passionate embrace. I was on top of him, gazing down as I rocked back and forth with my hips, and I could feel every little bit of him inside of me. Even beneath me, he was quivering and pressing all of those little buttons that boosted my sensation to sublime heights.

When my rush of pleasure ended, when my limbs finally started quivering, Roman was still rocking back and forth beneath me, his hands heavy on my hips. In that moment, I somehow didn't feel awkward about my body, about how my breasts dangled down or how creases formed as I moved. I felt perfect, felt loved.

I leaned forward, lifting up my hips a little, and Roman began to piston up and down beneath me, making the entire bed quiver from his exertions. Still adrift on seas of pleasure, I urged him on, showering him in kisses and urging him to completion, to give me what I wanted to feel with all my heart.

When he exploded for the second time, it was unmistakable. He arched his back, holding me so tightly that his fingers bit into my skin, but I didn't care. I had given myself over in body and soul to this man, and I wanted him to feel every ounce of pleasure that I could give him.

The break after this second round lasted a bit longer - but then the waiter knocked politely at our door, bearing some complimentary champagne and strawberries for us, and we were at it again. We didn't leave the room for the entire rest of the day, entertaining ourselves with television and champagne and fruit and whipped cream between rounds. And just when I thought that we were running out of energy, one of us would get another burst, and we'd be going again.

By the time I finally drifted off into real sleep, covered in my sweat and tangled sheets, I was fairly certain that I'd had enough sex, just in that one day, to make up for my deficit of the last three years at least.

And now, Roman was gazing down at my naked body as he stood at the foot of the bed. And despite his exertions and the sweat standing out on his muscled biceps, he had a hungry glow alight in his eyes. It didn't take three guesses to know what he wanted.

"Wait!" I protested as he peeled off his tight shirt. Oh god, those abs were amazing. He seriously was like some sort of god, or a sculptor's statue come to life. This made it even harder to keep on talking, but I pushed on. "We need to talk?"

"Of course, we can talk," Roman purred, but he didn't stop advancing. The shirt was tossed aside, and he was now reaching for his shorts. If those came off, there'd be no more conversation. I had to speak now before we got lost in another wave of lust.

"What are we doing?" I insisted. "Am I going to stay on as your assistant? Are we dating now? What are we?"

Roman paused at these questions, and then let out a sigh. "Can't we talk about these things after?" he tried, but I stood firm and shook my head.

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Well, first off, I definitely want you to stay on as my assistant! If you're able to figure out things like this in other regards besides murder, you're definitely being wasted in your current position. And besides, there's no way I could take away your big new office just after you got it, could I?"

This comment in itself was enough to put a silly-looking grin on my face. He thought that I was smart! And useful! And he was making me the permanent assistant to the very head of the company! Oh, I couldn't wait to brag to my mother and all my friends about this. But Roman wasn't done, even as I beamed at him.

"And further, I need to distract the shareholders, to get their minds off of this tragedy," he went on, now gazing off into the distance as his mind's eye turned inward. "So I'm thinking that it's time for an expansion! Our brand has been doing well, but we need to push outward - I've actually been considering this for a while, but waiting for the right time to announce it."

"Push outward to where?" I asked.

Roman looked back at me and winked. "I was thinking New York," he suggested.

Oh my god. New York, New York! The city in every movie, the place that everyone knew! I'd always dreamed of getting to go to New York, to live in the hustle and bustle of the city, to be a real urban socialite like on television. To visit the most glamorous shops in the world, to rub elbows with Wall Street bankers, to go to fashion shows and Broadway plays. It sounded like a dream come true.

My feelings must have been obvious on my face. Roman laughed out loud as he looked back at me. "I can see that you think it's a good idea!" he chuckled.

"New York," I repeated. I couldn't quite accept the idea!

"And of course, my personal assistant will have to move with me," Roman continued. "Will that be acceptable to you?"

If I'd nodded any faster, my head would have fallen off my shoulders. "New York!" I repeated back, once again.

Roman leaned in and kissed me. "What do I have to do to make you stop repeating that?" he asked.

Just to spite him, I said it again. "New York, New York!"

The man chuckled at me once again, and then his kisses began trailing south, down my neck and over my body. Eventually, they settled onto what was rapidly becoming his favorite little spot, and when I opened my mouth, "New York" was definitely not what came out.

God, this was amazing.

But even as I reached down to tug off the man's shorts and get him stripped down to my level of nakedness, I couldn't help but wonder ahead to the future.

My luck had clearly changed, just as I'd known would happen. Things had turned around. Everything was looking up.

But what would be coming at me next?