Billionaire's Bounty (Plus Size Loving) BBW Erotic Romance (4 page)

How the week
ahead was going to go, had now been officially verified, Miranda realized. And
it was going to be one hell of a long, stomach-squelching ride...

****

Keeping his
hands off her had been a proper task in the past few hours. What with Carly’s
constant, chaperoning presence, and then with his own sense of propriety
– slim though it was because he was the least proper person he knew
– it had truly been difficult.

Having her sat
there across from him, her beautiful features creased slightly with a troubled
expression that made him want to kiss the little frown away...Knowing she was
right there, within reach – and soon to be in his passionate clutches,
had been enough to keep him hard as a plank all through the long trip. Even in
her stern-looking suit, her body was just as gorgeously inviting as ever, her
delightful curves encased lovingly by the outfit’s well-fitted lines. Her legs
were creamy, smooth, and she unconsciously gave him a decidedly enchanting
glimpse of inner thigh whenever she crossed and uncrossed them.

It was hard
enough keeping his mind on Carly’s words all this while. He wished now that he
had found a way to cancel this trip, or at least postpone it – and make
this all about pleasure.
His
and Miranda’s
.
But no, he had very vital contacts to make in London
that whole week, which had taken almost a year to arrange. And he had been
unable to wait till he got back from London to get his chance with Miranda.

No, it had been
a now-or-never move, and he’d taken it. And now, he knew that it was only a
matter of hours, give or take – and then the sexy, voluptuous Miranda
would be his. He would focus on work when he needed to, but he’d make sure that
when the time came, he’d make every moment with her count. He only hoped he’d
have the inclination to let her go once their deal came to an end in seven
days...

***

London was a
gorgeous city – and any other time, it would have been more than glorious
to be there. They touched down late in the evening, and Miranda felt the sense
of ancient history all around her as they drove from the airport to the hotel,
passing by monument after monument. The city was well lit, beautiful, and
filled with a kaleidoscope of people that seemed to swarm around in droves.
Miranda was enchanted by the diversity and culture she saw, and wished that she
was
here on some other mission, and not just as a
billionaire’s one-week plaything.

And what a
billionaire, she thought; glancing across at him as they sat in the spacious limousine
that had picked them up once they’d arrived. Every time she stole a look at
him, she marvelled at the fact that he would be attracted to someone like her.
She’d read up recently about his last girlfriend, one that everyone had
believed he would propose to. In fact, the model, a little over twenty three,
had just a week before the split, boasted that she’d got wind of Jude checking
out rings at some mega-expensive jewellers. Obviously, nothing had come of
that. But Miranda had seen at least, the kind of woman he must be used to being
with. Model-types, the kind who’d make great trophies to a man like him. Women
whose beauty and looks conformed to what people would expect of a rich,
influential man like him.

And yet, it was
her he wanted.
For just a week, maybe.
But he’d wanted
her so bad he was ready to lose control of what had been her father’s company
and a now very lucrative holding - one he’d taken several months to map out its
ruthless takeover.

Miranda guessed
she should feel flattered by it all, at least. She didn’t get propositioned by
dashing billionaires every day that was for sure. And it wasn’t something that
would be likely to repeat itself either. So she might as well make the most of
it, she decided, as she settled back against the sinfully plush seats of the
limousine. Finally, she was making the decision: it may be only business, but
damn it, she’d enjoy every second of it. Roll with the
thrills,
live it up to the max. If she was to have a man like Jude Stone to herself for
a week, then she was sure as hell going to make it one week to remember. For
both of them...

***

Checking in,
then going up to their exquisitely appointed suite...Carly heading off to her
own room on some other end of the floor while she and Jude took up space in
what had to be the most fabulous room Miranda had ever stayed in. The bed
itself was like an entity on its own: a mass of pillows set on the king-sized,
silk-spread expanse of the sinfully beautiful bed. Miranda gulped, turning
round to find Jude backing into the door, shutting and locking it without
taking his eyes from her.

They were
alone. Finally. The ominous element of that very prospect should have daunted
her, but no
..
.It was electrifying. Was this the time
of reckoning? Would he want to take her now, the first chance he got - or would
he draw out the suspense? Perhaps, they’d dress for dinner first, and then go
out for an elaborate meal – or maybe he’d just order up room service and
then take things from there?

They’d mapped
out most everything of the whole arrangement – except this most vital,
pressing part. Exactly what, Miranda wondered, was expected of her?

“You must be
tired from your journey,” he said mildly, at last advancing from the door and
smoothly unbuttoning his top shirt buttons as he loosened his tie.

“Would it
matter if I was?” Miranda queried, standing still in the middle of the suite.
He came forward, standing close enough that when he looked down into her face,
she could see the golden flecks in his piercing eyes.

“You’ll cut me
out for an insensitive brute, wouldn’t you? But you’ll find that I’m far from
the unfeeling, ruthless bastard you think I am.” As he spoke, his tone
softened, just as his gaze lowered to her parted lips, which started to tremble
in anticipation beneath his fixed, darkened stare. They’d never kissed, had
barely had any kind of contact since that first night they’d danced. Miranda
felt her eyelids flutter to a close as any moment, she expected his mouth to
claim hers in manifestation of the intent she saw burning on his face.

But he did not
kiss her, at least not on the mouth. She felt him press his lips to her
forehead, his voice barely above a whisper as he added, “I know we have an
arrangement, and now it’s just you and me, just like I wanted. But I’m no
savage. I’ll let you
get some rest
,
freshen
up from the trip
. I have an important meeting in the morning, so I’m
going to want my beauty sleep.” He grinned suddenly, drawing away from her.

Miranda was
surprised by his tactics – which was what they had to be. He was pulling
the humane card, playing nice and probably seeking to soften her up in some
way. Could he sense her resentment? Knowing that even as she’d succumbed to all
this, even as she was playing along, she felt indignant of the position in
which she was placed?

Don’t Miranda;
don’t let him fool you, she warned herself. Keep your guard up and keep
reminding yourself that you were dealing with a man
far,
far different from you in the way you reasoned and felt. They were as different
as chalk and cheese, and though she felt his physical appeal, she couldn’t
distance her mind from the fact that he was manipulative, opportunist. A man
who would use what ever he had to get what he wanted.

But then with a
jolt, Miranda knew she could very well say the same for herself at this point.
Here she was, about to pay the ultimate female price: yielding her body in
return for something she desired most in the world: to see her father, her whole
family, happy again. To get the pieces of her life back together since the day
it was shattered when they’d practically lost all they had.

So maybe she
wasn’t so different from Jude Stone after all.

***

Miranda found
herself in a fitful doze when he returned.

He’d left the
room several hours ago, after he’d showered and changed. He said something
vague about having to see to some matters with Carly in time for the meeting
tomorrow, and that he’d discuss in the PA’s room so that Miranda could rest
without disturbance.

Once she was
sure he was gone, she’d slowly undressed, then indulged in a leisurely soak in
the majestic marble tub in the bathroom. She’d been almost reluctant to finally
rise from its scented, warming depths. She’d spent almost an hour in the bath,
and still he wasn’t back. Wondering at the strange pinch of perverse irritation
she felt, she quickly unpacked, retrieving her lace and satin lingerie, which
she’d chosen to wear. Before she put it on, she caught a glimpse of her naked
frame in the mirror, and paused.

Standing in
front of the full length, gilt-framed glass, she viewed her reflection and
tried to be impartial in her judgement of herself. Miranda had always taken
pride in her body; she’d always been full-figured, and had never known what it
meant to be skinny or even slender. However, she kept fit, and her body was
supple, firm. She had smooth, unblemished skin, which felt very soft as she ran
her hands over her shoulder blades and upper arms. And she felt she had nice
breasts; they were a high-profiled D-cup, with only the slightest droop that
added a somewhat erotic sway to their mounds. Her belly was just a bit rounded,
yet flat, and her hips flared out if not delicately, then at least with shapely
elegance. Her legs were what she considered her favourite features; they were
long, with well-formed calves ending in ankles that were surprisingly narrow
for her weight. She also had small feet – another surprise.

She didn’t
think she was doing badly at all, for a plus-sized chick. She turned to one side, and then the
other. And then she backed the mirror, looking over her shoulder at her
generous rump, the cheeks perfectly curved and silky-skinned. It was firm and
soft, and slightly jiggled when ever she moved. She remembered that though
she’d always felt it was far too big, at least two of her exes had told her it
was the best they’d seen on a woman. She couldn’t help wondering if Jude would
think the same when the moment of truth came.

Oh, so now she
was looking forward to it, hmm, her inner voice mocked – but she ignored
it. She’d be a fool to pretend to herself that she wasn’t more than a little
sexually drawn to Jude. A woman would have to have dry, bloodless veins in her
body if she claimed not to find him deeply attractive. Every time he was near,
it was hard not to stare at him, or to feel switched on by his effortless
magnetism. She’d felt it all from the second she’d set eyes on him, smiling and
offering to take her off Kirk’s bumbling hands – and feet. And yet,
though she could not find herself to totally like the man – she sure as
hell wanted to fuck him like crazy. There was no two-way about it, no doubt.
When the time came, she would want it as much as him, just as he’d assured her
all those days ago.

***

And now, she
felt drawn slowly from her light sleep by lips trailing down her nape.

She was lying
on her belly, her face muffled in the pillow. The sensation of warm, silken
lips making a molten path over her exposed back slowly began to register
– and her eyes snapped open.

The room was as
dimly lit as she’d left it when she’d settled in soon after she’d bathed, and
now there seemed to be a definite glow surrounding her, warming her to the
bone. Or maybe that was just the feeling of Jude’s mouth on her skin, trailing
lingering kisses over her exposed back.

“
Miranda
.”

It was so like
an erotic pronouncement, the one word filled with an undeniably intense
declaration of intent that made her shiver within. Miranda lay on her belly,
her face turned to the side and muffled within the pillow she now clutched.
Jude was right above, his hands propped on either side of her as he continued
his tender, heated foray of her shivery skin with just his lips.

“You smell
delicious,” he said thickly, drawing in a ragged breath. “I could eat you all
up.” And then she heard him chuckle, the sound downright wolfish as he added,

“Though, I
already intend to do that anyway, so...”

Once again,
Miranda shuddered, and she was sure that this time, he would feel it. Would
feel the way her whole frame tensed, and then eased itself beneath the
searching, passionate tracks his lips made down the sensitive ridge in the
middle of her back. From the waist down, she could feel her body melting, her
inner thighs turning moist as if a tap had started to drip right between her
legs. And from the waist up, she felt herself grow heavier, tighter, as her
breasts grew fuller and taut with an aching need she could not deny. She could
feel her nipples pressing almost painfully into the mattress, and moaned.

She felt him draw
away for some moments, and curious, she finally turned on her back, leaning on
her elbows as she watched, unable to speak while he started to undress.

He obviously
had no qualms about his body, as silently, holding her gaze almost
mesmerizingly, he unbuttoned his shirt, and flung it aside along with his
pants.
Miranda gulped soundlessly, physically incapable of
looking away.

He
was...magnificent. Every inch of him like highly polished gold, and ripped to
almost marble-like perfection. She’d never seen a more beautiful body on man,
his shoulders broad and strongly masculine as the rest of him.
Well-defined chest and
pecs
, smooth,
washboard belly, and flanks that narrowed into a perfect
vee
.
He had the body of an athlete crossed with what a male stripper would look like
– and Miranda felt almost faint with the lack of oxygen she was
experiencing.