Keeping His Promise (Year of the Billionaire Part 3) (5 page)

From the windows of the suite I could see a patch of beach illuminated by the lights on Lake Shore Drive. I had never seen one of the Great Lakes and I was looking forward to getting a good look at the inland sea the next day. The half-moon glinted on some chop
py water but didn't shed much light there.

Tristan came up behind me and circled my waist with his arms as we looked out over the lake together.
"When I was a little kid, we had a lake house for a while near St. Joseph, Michigan. It's a real challenge to swim in that lake."

"Why is that?"

"Scrotum scrunching cold. Mom would force me to get out when my lips were blue." He turned me around to face him and possessed me with a kiss. Our desire, fueled by the separation, burst into flames between our hungry bodies.

As I knew it would, his touch wiped away any thought of hesitation. I was molten under his knowing hands. Our clothes quickly formed a heap at the foot of the big hotel bed. He fed the fire in me with his devouring mouth, first against my lips, then my neck, and down to nibble and suck on my nipples that strained for him.

I reached for his erection and he curled his long body so that I could take him in my hand. He was completely hard and the silky skin on his cock pulsed with heat. I looked at the beautiful instrument of my pleasure and sighed at the sight of it. All of his rigid length stood at attention. For me. For my body.

He held my arms above my head as he teased and nipped at the little buds. I arched my pelvis against his chest, urging him lower, pleading for his attention on my sex. He released my hands as he traced down my skin
with torturing slowness. I could feel the brush of his cock against my thighs. I was wet with lust. I wanted to pull him back to my mouth and feel him mount me, but I knew his ways. He would tease me first, satisfy me before he satisfied himself and only then would I know the prize of penetration. He liked it that way. Torment, delicious torment, was always part of fucking Tristan.

Mouth against the tender skin at my waist, he worked my breasts in his big hands. There was no gentleness in the way he twisted my nipples, no tenderness in his conquering of my flesh. This was to be a claiming, possessive union. His hands already told me so.

When his mouth finally reached my pussy I pulled my legs apart and moaned my need. He showed me no mercy. He circled and danced his lips everywhere but my clit even as I strained to present myself to him. An insanity of desire gripped and held me.

Finally he locked on to me and set me free. I pushed into him, grinding into the exquisite pressure of his tongue against my throbbing clit. I knew he could sense how close I was to climax because he began to incite my orgasm with muffled groans that commanded me to let go.

It was swift and sharp. I cried out at the intensity of the contractions that took over my body as he claimed me. Tristan sucked me hard, urging me to give him the prize of my release. Even after it should have been over, his insistent mouth pulled more from me until, too sensitive for touch, I pushed him away.

My chest was still heaving with ragged breaths when he pulled me to the edge of the bed and turned me onto my stomach.

"Put your knees on the edge of the bed," he told me. I was soon ass-up for the taking. He stroked his cock up and down over my slickness. "You're wet, my sweet. Wet, slick and swollen. Oh, God yes."

I shifted my body, presenting myself to him.
"Take me. I want you to take me now."

Slap! The sting reverberated in my ear and in my flesh. "I will take you, Raina. In my time. When and where I desire it." He continued to spank the globes of my ass and I remembered how the pleasure of that burn excited me. His cock poked at my entrance and I tried to thrust back at him, to take him in deeper.

Slap. Slap. Slap. "Not yet." He ran the head of his cock from my clit to my asshole, again and again spreading the slickness of my arousal all around.

I grunted with animal pleasure when at last he thrust his cock into me. My channel sucked him in.

"Greedy pussy," he growled as I pushed back taking him into me as far as I could. I could feel the hair at the base of his shaft tickle my tingling ass cheeks. He drew himself in and out of me ever so slowly, not yet in a rhythm, not yet abandoned.

Once again he withdrew from me and placed the head of his cock against my asshole, tight and puckered. He had promised me that he'd go there and I wanted him to. I wanted to know how it would feel to be fucked where no one had ever fucked me. I wanted the secret and forbidden; the intimacy of barely imagined desire.
Most of all, I wanted to give everything my body could give to him.

He stroked
my skin tenderly now as he played his cockhead against my sphincter. I was a little afraid and the fear only heightened my excitement. I pushed back against his probing member and held my breath, anticipating the unknown.

It took my breath away when he forced past the crinkled ring. My body recoiled with the sharpness of his penetration and I cried out with a gush of air.

"Relax . . . just relax," he told me as he stood behind me, motionless. Soon, I felt a far different sensation as my resistance eased. God, what a feeling. He hadn't started to move but already this incredible fullness swept me away. It was the idea that seared me. I hardly knew myself. I wanted to be taken in the most wanton way, an animal way I once considered base--something for porn movies and male fantasy.

I thrust back against him, stretching the delicate flesh of my tender muscle around his girth, feeling him widen and occupy me. Tristan let out a sound of furious heat and grabbed my hips, pulling me hard down onto his erection. He pumped himself into me with restraint at first and I could sense that he was almost shaking with the effort not to bury himself to the hilt in my ass. Soon, my body cleaved to his desire and he was slapping fles
h to flesh, claiming me.

"Touch yourself," he told me. I could hardly have kept from doing so. I wanted to come around him and know what it felt to have my asshole tighten around an exploding cock. I almost came at the first touch of my fingers on my clit. I groaned and writhed against him inside me and his arousal matched mine. I couldn't recognize myself. My body shook with the enormity of the new woman I had become. Each time I thought he could go no further, each time I imagined our intimacy had reached its zenith, he pushed beyond.

"Come with me . . .
come with me now. I want to feel your ass milk me dry."

I needed no more encouragement. I ground my clit hard and felt the waves begin to crash on the shore of my sex. He thrust deeply and held my ass against his body as the spasms took over. Each time my ass contracted, I could feel him jerk against me as he emptied himself into my bowels.

He collapsed against me, our legs hanging over the edge of the bed, chests heaving. He slipped out of me softly and pulled me to my feet. I expected to feel ashamed; embarrassed by my complete loss of self and my utter abandonment. I looked into his eyes and saw the sheen of satisfaction. I couldn't feel anything but joy as he held me tight against him.

"Beautiful. You are such a beautiful gift."

Five

We both woke up starving. Neither one of us had eaten much dinner on the plane
. We had worked up the kind of appetite that mind boggling sex tends to create. We wrapped ourselves in the hotel's cozy robes and scrutinized the room service menu together. Tristan decided on steak and eggs and I ordered a Belgian waffle.

He finally had the front desk send up our things. I still thought it was a little silly to have all those clothes for two days, but I was getting used to Tristan's strange ways. The only possible reason for him to have them all hung up like that
on the plane was so that I could see what he had chosen for me. Otherwise he could have had them all packed in a suitcase like his own clothes were. But, he wanted to make sure I knew that I was going to be pampered again. If it took some invisible someone to do all that hanging and packing, what difference did it make to Tristan?

After we finished our breakfast, we showered together in the big etched glass enclosure. It was one of those showers that had jets all over the place--two in each corner,
a detachable shower wand, and a big rain-water head above us.

We took turns soaping each other. I loved the feeling of his smooth skin under my slippery hands. He leaned against the shower stall wall with his back to me as I scrubbed his strong broad back. He moaned a little when I reached his ass. I paid special attention to the crack there, poking around his asshole just a little
before I slipped my hand forward to wash between his legs. When he turned around for me to tend to the other side, his cock was about half erect and growing harder by the moment. My hands traveled all over the beautiful distance of his long limbs. His hands and feet, so perfectly formed and graceful got extra attention. I reasoned that if he thought to bring pleasure to me through my fingers and toes, he probably liked to be touched there too.

"
You have evolution toe." I had his foot in my hand and looked up at him with a smile.

"What the hell is 'evolution toe'?"

"It's when the second toe is longer than the big toe. It's supposed to be a sign of intelligence." That got a big chuckle out of him.

He stopped laughing when I stood up and began to shampoo his crotch. He closed his eyes and sighed as I soaped his golden curls and massaged his balls in my slick hand. I moved on to the shaft and the soap made a perfect lubricant that allowed me to slide both hands up and down his rigid cock.
I watched in fascination as it twitched and engorged. I could see his pulse in the swollen veins along the length of him and I thought, not for the first time, that I had never seen a more perfect man.

"Oh God that feels great." He began to move a bit against my hand
and then stopped. "I think I'll save that for a little later. The poor guy needs a little rest period."

He brought my hands up and took his turn washing me. His touch was soft and gentle, then firm and insistent against my muscles. There was no tension left in me, but he massaged my shoulders anyway and my flesh
relaxed in gratitude against his hands. I was completely clean and in an almost trance-like state when he finished.

As we dried off, Tristan told me about the plans he had for the day.

"I'm going to take you to Oak Park so you can see the house I grew up in." He shot me a sidelong glance, gauging my reaction.

First his father, now his childhood home. He wasn't kidding about opening up about his past. I was thrilled, but now that the moment was finally upon me, it was a little frightening. Tristan was serious about showing me what made him tick. He expected it to make a difference in the way I dealt with him. I wasn't so sure. It could answer the questions, perhaps, of why he felt the way he did but what difference would that make? If the rules remained the same, we'd be back to square one.

"I'd love to see it," I finally answered him.

As we waited for the valet to bring the rental car around, I looked at the expanse of Lake Michigan, angry with autumn winds that were threatening off shore. Above our heads the sky was brilliant and cloudless and the air had a comfortable morning nip to it. Chicago rose from the lake shore boldly, bras
h and modern. It seemed somehow . . . cleaner than New York. Maybe it was the effect of the lake washed air or the glint of the thousands of silver windows glinting in the morning sun.

It was rather odd to see Tristan slide into the driver's seat. The last time I'd seen him take the wheel was in the Berkshires
and I had become accustomed to Kwan driving us around.

"No Kwan today?" He had been on the plane and I assumed he'd be shadowing us as usual.

"No, I sent him to go prowl Boystown. He's probably boinking in the bath house by now. I think we'll be fine on our own. This was a very spur-of-the moment trip. No one knows I'm here." I was reminded once again that 'security' was a perpetual and permanent part of his life. How easy that was to forget in the heat of Tristan's arms.

The Bentley convertible had the top down so I wound my scarf around my head as we took off down Michigan Avenue.

"This is known as the Magnificent Mile. It's every bit as great a shopping district as Fifth Avenue and frankly, I think it's a lot prettier."

"I agree. I don't know why I pictured Chicago so differently. I didn't expect to find it so
elegant
."

"You're seeing the elegant parts, but you'll see the other Chicago now as well. I'm going to skip the Eisenhower expressway and take Madison all the way out to Oak Park. That way you'll get to see the city more. It'll take a while
even though we're only going about ten miles. Are you in a hurry?"

"I do have a hot date tonight."
I smiled. I thought how considerate it was to want to show me the city and then I recalled that his mother had died on the Eisenhower. I found myself wondering what his real motivation for the route was until I got caught up in watching Chicago roll by.

We passed through a gritty industrial area when we left the downtown 'Loop'.
"Looking a bit less elegant now, isn't it?" The industrial area gave way to a rather depressing residential area with plenty of vacant lots, boarded up buildings and just plain slummy looking brick buildings that had seen better days.