Taking his Risk (Year of the Billionaire Part 2) (4 page)

"Not just any nude beach. And not just a beach, either. This may be the only place in the world where you can go to a bank, buy groceries or have your hair cut in the buff."

I had to laugh out loud at the image of a naked barber shearing Tristan's locks. But it was a bit of a nervous laugh.

"You're game aren't you? I mean it isn't as if you're the only naked person around. Just you, me and thousands of others." If his boyish grin was meant to be persuasive, it worked.

I was ready to do anything to please this man, even if it meant shedding my clothes in front of thousands of strangers.
I told him as much. "If it makes you happy to see people staring at me . . ."

"Oh don't be
ridiculous. The whole point is no one is going to stare at you. We're all naked. There are
families
on that beach--with little kids." My eyes widened at that statement. "Unless you go to the adults only section, it's all pretty tame. Seniors, kids, fat, young, beautiful, skinny, scarred, natural and un. They're all there."

Tame, just naked tame
. I'd been skinny dipping at a couple of lifeguard parties. That wasn't terrible. Of course, it was in the dark and it was all people I worked with and saw in bathing suits every day.  How bad could that be?

But hundreds of strangers seemed a lot different.

Three

We spent the evening in the clothed part of
Cap d'Agde. L'Ami
Louis
was a tiny restaurant just a block from the marina. It had a lovely view of the sea and the food couldn't have been better. I had my first taste of
foie gras
and in spite of my initial reservations; I wound up absolutely gobbling it down.

"Tristan," I had objected, "I hate liver. Liver in any form is disgusting. I've tried it many ways. People have twisted my arm over the years telling me how good this liver or that liver is and the bottom line is that it all tastes like liver. Bleh."

He promised that he would service my body in any way I desired if I would only give the poor fatted goose's organ a chance. Even though I knew that wasn't much of a promise considering that he'd do that anyway I made him promise to suck my toes while he fucked me senseless.

"That will demand a good bit of flexibility on your part, but if you can manage, I'll happily comply. Now try the liver."

The
foie gras
had been lightly sautéed and served on a simply dressed bed of greens. I took a timid bite. The liver melted like a chocolate truffle against the roof of my mouth. "Oh God. It tastes like a slab of fried butter. Now I see what all the fuss is about."

"Now say, 'I'm sorry Tristan, I'll never doubt you again'"

"I'm sorry Tristan. I'll never doubt you again."

"That's more like it." He reached across the table and stroked one and then the other cheek with the back of his cool fingers. "Have I told you how beautiful, how superbly and utterly desirable you look tonight?"

I had chosen a little red dress, just a slip, really and a pair of barely there but mile high sandals encrusted all over with crystals. I recognized the signature red soles and knew I was wearing Christian Louboutin again. We were becoming old friends.

I brushed my hair 'til it shone and pinned it back on one side with a crystal encrusted comb I had found in a box in my closet on board the
King's Risk. All of the clothes that had been on the airplane magically appeared in the master stateroom on the yacht with some new additions. The accessory box was one of them. There were several pairs of earrings including a pair of large heart-shaped red crystals set around with smaller clear ones. They matched perfectly and had to have been chosen with the dress in mind. Tristan's personal shopper was extremely good at the job.

"I knew red was going to be one of the colors I liked best on you. Your hair picks up the warm tone so nicely. You were wrapped like an elegant Valentine last night. Did you enjoy the blindfold, my sweet Queen?"

As he asked, he trailed his hand down my chest and back and forth across my nipple. It immediately sprang to life. I stuttered a breathless "yes" as he crossed my chest to make both nipples match. Then he drew his hand up to my throat and tickled softly at my neck.

"I had debated about the ruby necklace, but I see that I made the right decision. Much as I think you deserve to be dripping in jewels, this
," he said as he slid his fingers against my flesh, "swan's neck needs no decoration."

My hand shot up to my earlobe in the realization that I was wearing a couple of rubies the size of dimes. I'm sure my eyes grew wider even as I made a huge effort to appear nonchalant. I nervously repositioned the crystal comb behind my ear with the realization that it, too, might be more than just a costume ornament.

"You can thank Kwan for that. I told him to find some unique things that might suit you. He's a ridiculous shop-a-holic.
Carte blanche
and an internet connection and he's off to the races. But I have to admit he's good at it."

"I'll have to thank him. It's very unique." I took a sip of my wine. "Of course, pretty much everything since the day we met has been unique."

Kwan followed behind us as we strolled back to the boat under the stars. It's a damn good thing it was only a block. As pretty as my sandals were, they were strictly made for standing around looking good, not walking an uneven sidewalk. I held on to Tristan's arm as much for balance as for the romance of walking arm in arm.

King's Risk
rocked gently in her slip, softly lit by dozens of small brass lanterns hung all around the decks. The lights gave off a soft amber glow that invited us to sit and relax on deck. The night was cool and our body clocks made it seem early.

The steward brought Tristan's favorite--his snifters and a bottle of Armagnac.

"Care for some?"

"I'm so full I don't think I have anywhere to put another drop of anything." I relaxed against the soft white cushions and watched the waning activity in the marina. Here and there
I heard the tinkle of laughter or a bit of conversation but otherwise the only sound was the slap-slap of small waves against the boat's hull.

Tristan poured a modest dram of the brandy in a snifter and held it to his nose. "Let's just share a sip, then." Not for the first time I noticed how perfectly formed his features were. I read somewhere that the most beautiful faces are the ones that are the most symmetrical. I was willing to bet that if you sliced pictures of Tristan's face right down the center and pasted like sides together the result
s would be identical.

His nose was delicate and masculine at the same time. It might have been a rather sharp nose in any other face. But on him, bisecting his high cheekbones and the hollows beneath them; ending exactly at the indentation above his generous lips, it was the only nose for such a face.

He held the snifter to my lips and I took a small sip. I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. The complex flavor and gentle burn of the liquor infused my mouth and warmed my throat.

I could feel Tristan move closer to me but I didn't open my eyes. I allowed myself to simply feel him moving toward my face and waited for the softness of his lips against mine. He took my lower lip in his and pulled it sweetly between his teeth. Then he pressed his mouth into mine and found my tongue. He traced across my teeth and around the "O" that formed from my desire.

Kisses landed like embers against my temples, my chin, my neck. He took my earlobe between his teeth and I heard the scrape of ruby against the pearls of his teeth as he nibbled at me there. I felt chills as his warm breath hissed into my ear and he whispered sweet salty words to set me ablaze.

"Every part of you is worthy of worship. Even your little ear--a delicate pink shell. The ruby is honored just by
piercing you." He bit down, hard, and I cried out. "I'm going to pierce you too. My cock will own you, and nothing else will matter to you except me--hard and hot--between your thighs."

I could barely exhale a groan.

"How will I fuck you tonight, my Queen? Is there an unspoken fantasy I can bring to life? Is there something you conjure when your delicate hand privately works your exquisite clit?" At that he reached between my legs and clutched my pussy.

"Oh God,
Tristan . . ." I was so in heat it was insane. I didn't need fantasy or magic thoughts when Tristan's hand was right there. What I needed was him, inside me. "All I want . . . just . . ."

"Say it."

"Fuck me now. Hard, fast. Just take me." The whole evening had been foreplay. What I wanted was to be full of the man.

I expected him to lead me to the stateroom. Instead, he stood me up and pulled my panties down to my feet. I kicked them aside and watched as he unbuckled, unzipped and freed his erection in seconds. He sat back against the cushions. The soft lantern light shone on the shiny smooth skin of his cockhead, already wet with desire. I'd never considered a penis a thing of beauty, but Tristan had a way of changing my way of thinking about a lot of things.

I couldn't decide whether to take him in my mouth first or simply straddle him. He read my indecision. "Ride me, just the way you know you want to . . ."

The thought crossed my mind that there were other people on board
King's Risk and other boats in the marina possibly with people on deck who could see us. In the end, it didn't matter. I had to have him. I straddled his lap and he slid into me instantly. His kisses and his words were all it took to bring me to that blissful state where I was hot and wet with need.

I rocked against him
slowly at first, just savoring being full of Tristan's thick, hard dick. Soon urgency overtook me and my body began to fold into itself like some origami figure taking shape as it grew smaller and more intricate with each crease.

His held my hips in his hands but only to balance me. This was my ride, my turn to control the pace. Somehow the complete permission to selfishly take my pleasure from his body made me want to please
him
more. I began to contract the muscles inside me with each inward stroke tightening myself around him as hard as I could manage.

"That feels amazing . . . fuck . . .
I didn't know you could do that." His eyes, which had been open and watching me, closed and his head dropped back against the cushion. "Don't stop . . . don't ever stop."

I was happy that concentrating on giving to him had slowed my rocket paced arousal. I wanted him to come with me and I wanted him to come hard. "Nothing could stop me from wanting you, Tristan. Nothing."

He lifted his head back up and drew my face toward his. Our kiss matched the rhythm of the intense languid motion of our hips. Each thrust seemed deeper than the last and with each squeeze of my pussy he seemed to grow harder and thicker inside me. He started to groan in earnest and with each sound, my desire grew and my body's need pressed harder.

Sensing that he was at the point of no return, I began to buck furiously against him, grinding my clit into his bone each time his cock reached its deepest point. Abandoning myself to the sensation was my only option once I felt my body tense with the inevitability of climax. He could sense it and began to murmur "yes, yes, yes" as his own release overcame him. He slammed my hips against his just as I started to contract. I pressed my clit hard onto him, pushing my hands down on his shoulders
as my back arched. My orgasm gripped his exploding cock and drank the hot jets he pumped into me.
Oh sweet heaven, what a union. This man. This man. This man.

We sat, joined and panting. My head on his shoulder, his arms around my waist.

"Oh what you do to me . . . you . . . you," he sighed. "You make me feel so fucking alive."

***

"It's still early in the States, right?" We were nearly ready to turn off the lights and snuggle ourselves to sleep when I had a sudden flash of worry about my parents. "I'd like to phone home."

"No problem," Tristan answered as he handed me his cell phone. "
Please give them my regards." He got up out of bed.

"You needn't leave the room. I just want to check in on them." There wasn't anything he couldn't hear, but I found his gesture thoughtful anyway. He was unfailingly polite.

"Are you going to tell them where we are?" he grinned at me.

"Only partially. I know my parents alr
eady think the world of you but . . ."

"And you? Do you think the world of me?"

I had already dialed their number when he asked. I would very much have liked to tell him what I thought of him, but I had to settle for a nod of my head because Mom answered on the first ring.

"Hi Tristan," she said brightly. She probably programmed his number in her phone weeks ago.

"No, Mom, it's me. How is everything?"

"Everything's good, very quiet. Your father is itching to go back to work."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Well, Archie told us that the two creeps who beat Dad up are back in Chicago, at their union headquarters. With them gone and the two bodyguards
with us, I can't imagine any trouble."