The Billionaire's Dirty Little Secret E-Book

L.J. Diva

• Herausgeber: Royal Star Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 390

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

This book is dedicated to Conrad Coleby.

What do you get when you mix a warm tropical island, fifty gorgeously naked men, and one seriously horny woman together?

Pure Hell!

A reclusive Russian billionaire lives on her tropical playground of debauched and wildly animalistic sex. She’s happy where she is, doing what she’s doing, but her world is threatened by the man who aims to destroy the one thing she holds dear.

Alex Carson is her assistant, manager of the island and keeper of all her secrets. She hates the job of choosing men for her mistress’ sex games and wants to leave the island and that way of life, but knows it will only happen when the most deadly of all secrets is revealed.

Chris Cameron is the hot hunky actor and, although he doesn’t know it, the only man who holds the key to that secret. Lured to the island, he fights his way back from the depths of hellish nightmares to face the reality and truth of that night long ago. He aims to go home and plans to take Alex with him…as his wife.

Dimitri Yurogov is the Russian KGB-trained bodyguard of the reclusive billionaire and best friend to Alex Carson. He would and will do anything for both of the women in his life. Both of the women he loves. Even if it means murdering in their name. And murder is second nature to a man with such boundless talents.

Hell is what they’ve been living for the last seven years, and when four worlds collide in the same place at the same time with the same secret…hell hath no fury like a horny rich woman scorned!

If you love fifty shades of kick-ass heroines, and fall in love with hot hunky actors with secret lives, then you’ll love L.J. Diva’s The Billionaire’s Dirty Little Secret.

Pick up The Billionaire’s Dirty Little Secret today to see if Alex and Chris finally have their happy ever after.

Leseprobe

THE BILLIONAIRE’S DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

L.J. Diva

CONTENTS

Dedication

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Part Three

Part Four

About The Author

Other Titles

Copyright

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Conrad Coleby

Prologue

She stroked his penis into a long hard shaft and descended onto it with slick swiftness.

He groaned in pleasure.

She did not.

He was another one of them. A walking, talking penis that was just another conquest. A penis and nothing else. Not a conversation. Not intelligence. Not a deep and meaningful relationship.

Did he fill her completely?

Sure.

Did he fulfil her completely?

Not even close!

She thrust up and down in robotic motions until he was done and she was over it.

Over the men who didn’t care about her.

Over the men who didn’t want her.

Over the men who didn’t give her the orgasm she was after.

They just wanted the one hundred thousand dollars for staying on her island just for her pleasure.

They wanted the money, not her.

She slid off him and he groaned again. “Good to see someone got off on it.” Her Russian accent came thick and heavy.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” the hunky brunet yelled. His muscular six ten frame shone with sweat in the dimly lit boudoir.

“Well,” she muttered. “You are done.” Leaving him tied to the chair, she headed for the doorway of her sanctuary. Pausing, she glanced back at him. The hot American with the crew cut who had failed to please her. Pleasure her. Give her the mind-blowing orgasm she’d been after. Instead, she felt empty.

And dirty.

She closed the door and pulled on the silk cord hanging beside it. It rang a bell in the hall outside, letting her men know to come and take her latest sex stud away. She padded into her luxurious dressing room, yanked off the long straight black bob she was wearing and dumped it on the dressing table, then grabbed her robe from the back of the chair.

Wrapping herself in the soft satin material, using it as a warm cocoon, she pulled a towelette from its container, rubbed her face free of make-up, and gazed forlornly at herself in the mirror. A depressed, lonely girl gazed back.

“What the hell am I doing?” she asked the forlorn figure.

“I don’t know,” the figure replied, “but you need to do something.”

With a frown and a longing glance, she walked into her now empty room and slipped into bed.

Part One

She gazed down from her third-floor balcony, secluded by thick green palm trees and plants, to stare at the men surrounding the pool.

Bronzed, muscular bodies, swimming, playing volleyball, or lying on the outdoor lounges sunning themselves.

Tall, muscular, masculine bodies in teeny tiny swim briefs or trunks, all slick with sweat or dripping water.

Moving and turning and flexing.

“Ah,” escaped her breathlessly. “Beautiful, just beautiful.”

She laid a hand on the railing and licked her full luscious lips. Long feminine fingers trailed up her abdomen, across her chest, and onto her left nipple to find it hard. Sliding off her sheer black dressing gown, she continued to stare down at the men by the pool.

Fifty gorgeous, glorious men she would have her way with. She felt herself moisten at the sight, and the aching between her long slender legs told her one thing.

Turning on her heels and striding into the bedroom, she called down to her assistant. “I want three men sunbaking on lounges by barbeque. Now!” Dropping the phone into its cradle, she groaned. “Ugh, want, now.” Keeping herself aroused, she waited the few minutes it took for her guards to bring the almost naked blindfolded men up, and watched in wet silence as all three were tied to the bed.

Barely waiting for her men to leave, she slid and licked her way up the first hard masculine body, dipping her tongue into places it wanted to go. “You are good,” she murmured into his ear as she climbed on. “Very good.” Rubbing him until he was stiff, she descended and lifted, continuing the motion until she was done. “Oh, good.”

She squeezed his pecs and clenched her vaginal walls to keep him hard. “Oh, good.”

The hard body moaned and shifted, bucking at the muscular assault on his penis.

The warmth in the darkened room was heady, making the actions even more stimulating. Sweat formed, making them slick. Hands slid over muscles, mouths slid over mouths, tongues slid over tongues as they came together, grinding away in the late afternoon heat.

With a sigh, she slid down over him. The man with the rock-hard abs and rock-hard penis that was still inside of her. “Good…good,” she murmured into his chest, her body pulsating and throbbing. She drifted in and out of the heady haze, her hands doing what they wanted as they reached and stroked, rubbed and groped. Her nails left little red lines on hard toned bodies, and teeth left bite marks on muscles.

“Ugh.” The hard body belonging to the penis she was holding groaned.

She squeezed.

“Ugh.” He arched upward, excited by the hand around his hard dick, and groaned again as she slid off the body she’d fucked and onto him. “Ugh.” He collapsed and brought his knees up. “Yes,” he hissed. “Yes.” Using the position of his legs, he thrust up and down, and she matched his every move with moves of her own.

“Ah, uh, oh, God, fuck me,” she gasped, moving against him thrust for thrust. Sweat ran down her body, from her brow to her collarbone, down between her breasts, and pooled between her legs. She rubbed her breasts and threw her head back. “Oh, God, oh, God.” Within moments she was bouncing along, thrust up by the beast beneath her before she landed back on him only to be launched upward again. It was a cross between being on a trampoline and an uncontrollable wild stallion. “Ugh, oh, ugh,” she gasped as his seed flowed into her and her G-spot was pleasured. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.” She sucked in air as she fell against him, his heart racing beneath her ear.

His lungs expanded and deflated rapidly as he regained his own breath.

She licked the sweat from his body, rubbed her hands over it, and planted her mouth on his. “Mmm,” she mumbled. “You’re very good.”

“So are you,” he breathed.

She rested, lying full out on top of him, his penis still inside of her. He felt good and was better than the first, yet there was one more to go. Her eyes slowly lifted to the man beside her. The last one on the bed. Blindfolded like the others, he lay there, hands tied above his head.

She slid off number two and onto number three. “Hello,” she breathed. “My, what big arms you have.” She pulled the rope undone and sat on him, wrapping those arms around her. “Ugh, big arms.” She groaned as he crushed her to his broad muscular chest. “You very big. More ways than one.” She moved up and down against him. Hot naked flesh rubbed against hot naked flesh. Her breasts squished against muscles as his mouth tried to catch them, succeeding in capturing her nipple in its grasp. “Ugh.” Arching into him she let her head fall back.

He sucked harder, and his fingers found her crotch. “Ah,” she yelled, “in me, in me.” His fingers probed and pushed, in and out, and she moved against them, moved against him, moved against his mouth. “More, more.” She spread her legs as wide as she could while sitting on him.

He held her tight. Mouth greedily sucked, fingers greedily found their way into her very wet, very aroused, very ready and willing body.

She thrust and pushed against him as her climax heightened. “More, more.” One hand grabbed his head to keep it where it was, and the other grabbed his hand to grind it against her clitoris as his fingers poked and prodded her innermost self, terrifying her G-spot into doing what it was told. It was a prisoner. A prisoner of his magic hand, and her breast was a prisoner of his magic mouth and tongue.

“Oh, God,” she barely managed. “More.” She came on his fingers, his hand. She was soaked, and so was he. “Oh, God, oh, God.” Her head flung itself back, away from his mouth. Her breast was ravaged red by that mouth and its wicked tongue. She leaned backwards until she was lying on his legs and his magic fingers withdrew. “Oh, God,” she muttered as his magic fingers now played with her curls and flicked her clit. “Oh, God, you…are…very…very…good.”

“You don’t get to lie back and relax,” he growled, pulling his legs from under her so he could position himself on top, frog style. “Now it’s time for me to get off.” He rammed his rock-hard dick into her as far as he could.

“Oh, God,” she screamed, wrapping her arms around him. He was huge and filled her in every way. “Fuck me,” she cried hysterically while he grunted back and forth until a climax that sent them into slumber.

Her eyes opened in the late afternoon light that glowed red from fluttering through the dark red velvet curtains draping the French doors. The weight lying on her shifted, and she realised he was still on top and inside of her; the latest conquest that had fucked her so soundly she’d never been fucked like it before. Her arms slid around his broad muscular back, and fingers trailed up and down his rock-hard muscular spine.

He breathed. He sighed. He woke.

“Shh,” she whispered, “say nothing.” Hitching her legs up, she wrapped them around his waist as high as she could get them. Hands slowly groped, mouths slowly kissed, tongues slowly danced, while bodies slowly thrust back and forth. She felt him move, every inch of every muscle worked to please her, to pleasure her, to fuck her into a stupor until she screamed in orgasm.

His knees were beside her hips, so he had the strength to push, and that position, in turn, rocked her back and forth. He cradled her, containing her in the cocoon that was his arms and legs, so she barely touched the bed. She was encased in him, joined with him while his penis did what it needed to.

“Mmm, uh,” left her mouth in a breath, “mmm.” She plastered herself to him, tightening her arms and legs to keep him there. She tasted him, his tongue, she sucked and bit, groaning, gasping at the way he made her feel. She was on fire and burning out of control from the inside out. He filled her to an overflowing capacity, and it made her hornier, harder, throbbing like the pounding of a tribal drum between her legs with every movement.

He tilted her down, rising as he did, still moving back and forth until they climaxed.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “ugh.”

His mouth found her breasts, and his hands found their way down to her hips which he lifted so he was kneeling above her. His fingers squeezed her clitoris as he spilled himself into her body.

She spasmed before falling silent, and he fell on top of her into a quiet sleep.

When she woke, it was dark out, and after a few moments of tranquillity, and some tugging and pushing, managed to roll the stud still on top of her from her body.

“You don’t want me anymore?” he mumbled.

She glanced at him. “I want you all night, but we must get rid of other two.” She called downstairs for her guards to help the other men out of her room, and shortly after that food arrived. She settled number three back on the bed, and her hands slid over him as she nuzzled his neck. “You are very good.”

“Good to hear it,” he replied. “Can I take this blindfold off?”

“No.” She made sure it was still firmly in place. “It stays. Beside, make it more erotic. Here, let me feed you.” She picked up an exotically spiced roll from the tray on the bed and teased open his mouth. He took it, and she licked his lips for him. “You are very, very good. Where you learn to be that good?”

“Years of fucking women. I’m an escort. They tell me what to do, or show me what pleases them, and I do it. Learned quite a few tricks along the way. All of which I can use on you.” His big manly hands slid over her smooth, supple body and found her ever ready hardened nipple.

“Escort?” She frowned. “You mean hooker? Male prostitute, no?”

His hand stopped and retreated. “I prefer escort. Hooker and prostitute are only for women.”

The frown was still in place. “But you are prostitute, no? I am paying you for sex, so you are technically hooker.”

“Wouldn’t that mean we all are, then?” He cocked his blindfolded head. “All fifty of us?”

She shrugged and waved a hand. “And fifty before, and fifty before, and fifty before that.”

His head turned to her. “How many men have you fucked?”

She looked back. “How many women you fucked?”

He thought about it. “Well, it’s probably in the hundreds. One, maybe more a night, but not every night, and some don’t even want sex, they just want a hot stud to go to a function or party with. I see them home and leave. Many are repeat offenders.”

She was intrigued. “How many years you do this?”

“Uh, let’s see.” He mentally counted, but his fingers moved. “Five.”

Her brows went up. “And how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

She smiled. “So, young. No wonder you so good and have so much energy.”

His lips curled into a grin. “Well, I do work out and eat lots of protein to give me muscle strength. Hey!” He grabbed her hand as it closed around his penis.

“You are right,” she purred. “You do have muscle strength.” She clenched and unclenched, and he guided her. “But to keep up strength you must eat.” Releasing him, she picked up another roll, placed it between her teeth and nuzzled his mouth, so he knew it was being delivered.

He caught it, bit, and swallowed in one gulp before delving into her mouth for the rest.

Coming up for air, she wiped her mouth and took a long drink of champagne. “You are very good.” She sighed in delectable pleasure.

He put his hands behind his head. “I always aim to please.”

“You certainly do.”

When dinner was done, she left the tray outside the door and locked it to keep the world out. Sidling up to the massive four-poster bed, three times the normal size, so it took up most of the room, she climbed on and lay on top of him, resting her head on his chest. “Mmm, good.” She breathed in deeply and slowly, taking in his manly scent before slowly releasing it.

His fingers trailed their way up and down her spine, across her back, down her sides. They caressed her firm, feminine buttocks, and she lazily stretched out on top of him, purring like a cat.

His fingers slid between her legs briefly before continuing on their merry way across her bare ripe flesh, repeating the trail, stopping just a little bit longer between her legs each time.

“Mmm, you know how to relax woman.”

“Massage always does the trick.” He continued feeling her, his hands owning every centimetre of flesh. His body burned beneath her, her breasts, her mouth, her lower abdomen where that soft ripe flesh of a woman was. His thighs burned to move, to rise between her, so she fell toward him. His penis burned to enter her, but he waited. Waited and continued the massage his fingers were giving her until the time he knew she would be so relaxed there would be no fight.

Her eyes flew open, and she sprang up like a cat, deftly ensconcing him inside of her and surprising him with her swiftness.

He sat, and jailed her in his arms as she fucked him senseless all night long.

*****

The next morning, she called for her guards to take him away before showering. The hot spray of water pummelled every aching muscle and then some. She stretched luxuriously before turning off the water and grabbing a fluffy towel. “Today, I rest. Tonight, I fuck.” She entered her bedroom to find her stallion gone and the sheets changed. A breakfast awaited her on the table in front of the open balcony doors, and she dined on her favourite omelette, freshly squeezed juice, and French toast. Once done, she grabbed her binoculars and gazed out over the island.

Her island.

Her secret island.

Bird here, dolphins there, ocean waves here, two men fucking there.

She dropped the binoculars. “What in God’s name?” Grabbing them, she peered through again, finding them half hidden by trees on a quiet stretch of the island. Fully naked and getting into it, she watched the hard bodied men do it. One was holding onto the tree in front of him, the other coming in from behind. Hands groped the penis in front, and both climaxed together, leaning into the tree for support.

She blinked.

She stared.

She recognised the two men being from the group here for her bidding. “They are…gay?” she murmured, not sure whether to be shocked or not. She watched them kiss against the tree before they eventually dressed and walked off in opposite directions. She followed both, but soon lost them.

“What…homo…here…oh?” Her brows knitted together and she thought about it. How many? How many men who have been here are gay? How many men have fucked each other here on island? She walked to the balcony overlooking the pool and saw the rest gathered there. Within minutes the two she’d seen joined them from opposite sides, but didn’t acknowledge each other. “Interesting. I think I shall play with them, see what they do.”

She called for the two men she’d seen and waited until her guards were gone before joining them in her room. “Gentlemen, you are very studly.” She gazed at the blindfolded studs before her, flicked a whip on their backsides and watched them rise. “You are already horny just from whip? Does not take much to get you going.”

She led one brunet to the chair and the other to the bed where she ripped off his loincloth and mounted him. “Come,” she commanded and gyrated against him. “Come.” She whipped him and felt him harden inside of her. “Come.” She rode him like she was racing in the Kentucky Derby, whipping as she clung to him, bouncing up and down like it would help her win, but in the end, she didn’t even cross the finish line as he withered inside of her. “You not come?” Surprised, she stared down at him, as he seemed completely uninterested in her at all. “You…not…come?”

She frowned, slumped, and dismounted, leaving him for the man on the chair. Whipping and rubbing him, she mounted, whipping and bouncing away. “Ugh, oh, ugh.” He was big and good, but not as good as the one from the night before. She noticed his unenthusiastic body language and slowed to a stop, another frown on her face. “You not like sex?”

“What?” he mumbled, dazed and somewhat confused by all that was going on.

“You not like sex?”

“I um,” he licked his thin pink lips nervously, “I um, like sex.”

She stood and led him over to the bed before untying their hands and making them face each other. “You like sex with men?” Watching their expressions under their blindfolds, she could see guilt all over. “Have sex with each other. I watch.” Sitting in the chair she’d just fucked on, legs crossed, twirling a strand of hair, she waited as they just stood there. “Well? What you wait for?”

“Um, I—”

“Um, we—”

She waved a hand. “Um you were having sex with each other this morning in palm trees, so you have sex now. I watch.”

“What?”

“We weren’t.”

“No, we weren’t.”

“Stop protesting. I saw you have sex.” She cracked her whip. “Now!”

“Um, I—”

“Um, we—”

Another crack. “Now!”

Male hands nervously reached for the other and finding their way, arms entangled. Mouths found each other and legs entangled. They fell onto the bed kissing, touching and rubbing penis against penis.

She was aroused. Very aroused.

Watching two hard and horny men roll around naked, she wanted in, and moved to the bed for a closer look. She held onto the bed’s wood poster frame, slowly sliding up and down it, pressing herself to it and biting her bottom lip in desire.

Mouths mashed together and bodies embraced. Hands slid between legs and legs entwined. Grunting and groaning and rolling over the bed they briefly stopped when she joined them.

“This is turn on for me, go on.”

They did, forgetting she was even there as she rubbed against them, groping and grasping.

One turned the other over and started to slide between his legs.

“Stop!” She grabbed his arm. “We do this my way.”

“What?” came the drowsy reply from the stud on top.

“We do this my way, but you still fuck.” Lying on her back, she pulled the man about to be fucked on top of her. “Get inside of me.” She led his penis in and made him lift his knees up to her waist. “You.” She grabbed the fucker. “Fuck him while he fucks me.”

“What? I—” He stopped and reached for the blindfold.

She cracked her whip. “Do it my way or not at all.”

He relented and found his way into the man beneath him.

They moved, and she groaned.

Three bodies, weirdly joined, in a sex act she’d never experienced.

A man fucking the man who was fucking her.

Her legs came up for the easier passage, and they all moved in sync. Grunting and groaning with each other they moved back and forth. The eroticism titillated her, making her harder and wetter. She lay back and enjoyed the experience, knowing it would be the only day she’d allow it to happen. Three bodies moved into one as all three came simultaneously.

“Oh, ugh, oh,” she gasped, thrilled at such an unusual act. “Oh, that is good. Very good.”

The two men collapsed against her, gasping for breath.

“Clearly not first time for you two, but first time for me fucking men fucking each other.” She looked at them, slick with sweat and shame. “Do not be scared to express yourself in this room, gentlemen. This room is all ’bout sex. Who you fuck, who you fucked by, first time for threesome like this, though. Definitely turn on.”

The stud on top slid out and the one beneath followed suit.

“As long as I join in, you fuck as much as you like today. Tomorrow, you go home.” She got up and grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket on the bedside cupboard.

“Go home?”

“But I…”

“You here for month, but you not straight, no point being here.” She poured rich cold golden liquid down her parched throat and watched the two men. “Like I say, stay here today and fuck all day. We play games. You cannot say no. Drink?”

Sitting on the side of the bed the men accepted drinks and thought about it.

“I give you extra fifty thousand each to fuck me and each other all day.” She stood before them, running her fingers through their golden-brown hair and her breasts against their faces. “We fuck each other.”

“Well, I…”

“For fifty thousand extra.”

“Should I…?”

“Why not?”

She picked up a box from the bedside cupboard. “Just as well have extra condoms,” she muttered before sitting on the hot hunk of man meat to her right. “Good. Fuck me while your friend fucks you. We very free sexually on island, we fuck whoever, whenever.” She shrugged nonchalantly and kissed him. “Fuck me now.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her back.

She pulled the hot hunk of man meat on her left into the mix, and they landed on the bed in a tangle of arms, legs, tongues and penis.

They spent all day fucking each other from both ends. Her on top, them on top, fingers, mouths, tongues and penises probed and poked and pleasured each other as all three fucked until dawn.

She then rested the day away while they were flown home, and then asked for the men she had not claimed. Five men were brought to her, and she chose two, whipping them into a frenzy as she rode them all night, one then the other, not stopping, not resting.

“Ugh, harder,” she yelled, flicking the whip back and forth. “Faster.”

“I’m,” grunt, “moving,” grunt, “as fast,” grunt, “as I can.”

Her breasts jiggled furiously with his thrusts. He was holding himself up, thrusting from the hips and not using his leg strength in any way. She sighed. “For God’s sake, get your legs into it.”

“I, uh, I, uh, oh, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.” He spasmed and collapsed onto her, gasping for air and almost suffocating her.

“What…was…that?” she muttered beneath him and shoved him aside. He sprawled across the bed. Leaning up on her elbows she looked at him. “What was that? You could not wait for me to come? You are disgrace.”

“A disgrace? I was fucking fantastic!” he gasped, sucking in air as fast as he could, lying there like a limp wet fish.

“For you maybe, but not for me.” She turned to the hard body on her right in the warm dimly lit room and slid her fingers over his chest. “What about you? You ready to please me?”

“Climb on.”

Sliding and grinding she found he was just right, and ground her way to a very happy ending. Falling against him, she relaxed. “You are good. Better than him.” Glancing his way she found him snoring his head off. “Ugh, he snores.” She stretched and promptly fell asleep.

*****

The next evening, she called down to her assistant. “I want one I had few days ago. Big muscles, one who is escort.” She reclined on the bed and waited for the man she would have all night. Maybe we do in shower? she thought as he was escorted through the door that closed behind him. “Darling.” She went to him and removed the cloth that covered his precious package. She stroked it. “I have missed this.”

“And it has missed you.” Picking her up, he headed for the bed, directed by her until they fell onto it a writhing tangle of human flesh.

“Mmm, mmm, darling.” Hands groped and grabbed. “Mmm, mmm.”

They came together with loud grunts and groans before collapsing.

“Good,” she gasped. “Very good.”

Half an hour later, she came to and called down for a dinner tray full of exotic and spicy foods. She fed him a spiced meat roll. “So. We do in shower?”

“Mmm.” He licked his lips. “We can do it anywhere you want to.”

“Anywhere?” She thought about it.

“Anywhere, anyhow, anytime.” He stretched out on the bed and crossed his legs.

“Then we do in shower, come.” Dragging him from the bed, through the dressing room, and into the spacious floor-to-ceiling glass-walled 270 degrees white circular bathroom, she turned on the hot water. “Come, get wet.” She pulled him into her arms, and they stood under the spray, soaping each other into a slow hot frenzy.

“Ugh, fuck me,” she whimpered, and he lifted her onto him. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and she locked her ankles, and by flexing her leg muscles was able to move up and down on him. Suds made everything slippery, and they slid against each other as they moved.

“More, more,” she groaned, hanging onto him like her life depended on it. She came in an explosion of convulsions, and he waited for them to subside before getting off.

Carefully lowering her to the floor under the spray, he had his way. Groping breasts and sucking nipples, biting soft wet flesh, he played with her clitoris while moving inside of her.

She arched her back against the pummelling water and his onslaught. “Oh, God, what you do me.” Digging her nails into his arms and spreading her legs even further. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.”

The second orgasm was better than the first.

Hours later, they lay in bed, barely taking up any space in the massively oversized four-poster. A rich, luxurious red spread lay over them, and she was comfortable in his strong masculine arms. Her fingers drifted casually across his hair-free chest, and she felt better than she had in years. Decades even. Her right leg slid over and planted itself between his, moving so her knee lifted his penis and rubbed against his testicles. Her right hand slid down and grabbed it.

“I clearly don’t need Viagra,” he mumbled, left hand under his head, right arm around her.

“Clearly not.” Rubbing her cheek against his chest, she marvelled at the smooth silkiness of his skin and how there was not a flaw on him. “You very fit, Mister Escort. Very fit indeed.”

“Mmm.” He enjoyed her hands on him, cradling his penis with care one moment and roughness the next. It was a complete turn on. “Need to be, Ms Fuck Me Senseless. I gotta say, though, I’ve never had this experience before. Fucking someone almost 24/7. Usually, it’s only once at a time.”

“But how many you fuck at night?” Her tongue slid nonchalantly.

“Usually one, sometimes two, maybe three. Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether I worked in the office or freelance.”

“Office? You have office for prostitution work?”

There was a slight pause as he made some sort of sound. “Escort agency office. Women come in, buy an hour, get fucked. I did that for two years before going solo and running my own business. I was fucking ten or more women a night.”

Her fingers trailed. “Well, you are very fuckable. Were you popular?”

“Most popular guy at the agency.”

Her hand moved on. “Must be your muscles that turn on?”

“Well, one muscle, in particular, I’m sure. Hey!” He grabbed her mischievous hand and rubbed it over his testicles. “Squeeze.” She squeezed. “Oh, again. Oh, God.” He moved her hand all over his crotch, and she didn’t seem to mind. “Oh…God…”

“Stop!” she commanded, and he did. “This must not go to waste.” Sitting on him, she moved, and he pulled her close while he got off.

“Tell me ’bout fucking women. What you do?”

“Ugh,” he grunted. “Not now, not while I’m fucking you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and clenched her vaginal muscles until he stopped. “Tell me now while we fuck. Could be good.”

“Ugh, okay. Ugh. There was this one woman, ugh. Who had a really hairy pussy, ugh. And she expected me to go down on her, ugh. I couldn’t, and ugh, she demanded her money back, ugh.”

She guided his hand to her own pussy. “You like mine?”

“Babe, ugh. I love yours, ugh. Not too much hair and ugh, nice and wet.”

“Not too wet?”

“No, no, ugh, not wet enough, ugh. I had a woman who didn’t get wet at all, ugh. Needed to use lube and even then, ugh, it wasn’t enough.”

She rocked back and forth, clenching and unclenching. “You had some women do things you did not know how to do?”

“Ugh, yeah. I, ugh, had a forty-two-year-old, ugh, who was incredibly adventurous, ugh, had a trapeze set up in her bedroom, ugh.”

She slid up and down, clenching and unclenching. “You have sex on trapeze? How you do that?”

“We didn’t, ugh. Tried to get both of us on it but it wasn’t strong enough. Ugh, damn thing broke, ugh, God…coming.”

She rotated in circles, clenching and unclenching. “Did you break anything? Did she pay you?”

“Ugh, God. Didn’t break anything. Still had sex, though, ugh God. Still got paid, coming, oh, God, coming.”

She pumped up and down until he released. “We must try trapeze.”

He slumped back against the pillows gasping for breath. “Do you have a trapeze? It would have to be wide, not a thin bar, and bloody strong to hold both of us.”

She stretched out on top of him and drifted off. “I do not have trapeze, but could get one made up. It is idea to think about.”

When she awoke to a warm, dark room, she rolled over and reached for a box of matches. After lighting the candles on the bedside cupboard, she lay on her back and watched the light dance across the bed’s red velvet canopy.

“Mmm.” He moved beside her, shifting in his sleep. He had been the best fuck of her life, and she did not want to stop. But her migraine told her otherwise. “Mmm,” she whimpered, rubbing her temple. “Go away.”

“You want me to go away?”

Her head moved slightly toward the direction of the voice. “Mmm? What? Not you, migraine in back of head.”

“Well, I can fix that.” He flung the sheet back. “Let me give you a massage. It might make the pain go away.” He knelt and slid her body down on the bed getting a squeal in reply. “Spread out, like an eagle.”

She settled, “uh, okay,” and flung her arms and legs out wide.

He started on her left foot, massaging, poking, and prodding, working his way up her soft white calf to her knee and onto her luscious thigh up to her groin, but he left her crotch alone. Shifting to her right leg he did the same, kneading the soul of her foot, her ankle, calf, knee, thigh and groin.

“Ugh, is good.” She sighed, eyes closed, contented.

His magic fingers worked their way across her abdomen, her sides, bypassed her breasts and moved to her right arm and then her left. Her hands and wrists, all the way up to her shoulders. He massaged her collarbone, neck, jaw, the back of her ears, her scalp and temple.

She groaned in absolute pleasure. “Good, good. But no breasts? No pussy?”

“When I’m done.” His lips and tongue trailed across her face, her lips, her jaw and neck, down to her breastbone and then her breasts, teasing and tormenting her rubbery nipples.

“Oh, God.” She reached for him, but he pushed her arms away.

“No.” His lips and tongue trailed down her abdomen into her curls and between her legs. Tasting, licking, sucking.

She arched her back and bent her legs. “Fuck, good, good.”

Ending with a big suck, he withdrew, and she collapsed. Rolling her over, he laid her out and started again. Right leg then left leg to the groin, her back, sides, spine, shoulders, arms and hands. His fingers slid into her hair and massaged her scalp, gently probing the base of her neck.

“There, there,” she muttered into the bed.

His fingers worked their magic and so did his penis, lightly dragging back and forth across her slender white back.

“Ugh, what is that? Feels good.” She revelled in the sensation.

“My dick.”

“Ugh, so good for lots of things,” she replied half-jokingly.

“Certainly is.” It stroked its way down her back and between her buttocks, gently prying them apart until it gained what it sought.

She lifted herself for him to enter, and groaned again in pleasure when he slowly slid inside.

He moved against her, towered over her, and grasped her outstretched hands.

Rocking back and forth against him, she breathed hard. “Ugh, good.” He finished, and they lay there, breathing in sync. “I should keep you as sex slave forever. Pity you cannot stay.”

His lips left a blazing trail of kisses. “Why can’t I?”

“Because men only stay month. Easy to deal with.”

“You can make an exception for me can’t you?”

“I could. Maybe you come another time.”

“I won’t need to if you let me stay.” His lips blazed in another direction.

“Mmm,” she sighed into the softness of the bed her face was mooshed into. “I wish I could, but there is plan in motion. Plan must stay in motion. Plan must not leave motion.”

“Can I be added to your plan?” Tongue tasted.

She sighed again. “Wish you could, you very, very good. All these years of being hooker come in, how you say, handy.”

“If I go home tomorrow will I ever see you again?”

“Probably not. I never see men again. Once been here never come back.” She shifted underneath him and he slid his arms around her. “So we must end this night with bang, because I not see you again.” She clenched her muscles and he sprang into motion, riding her like she’d ridden him. Hard and fast, long and short, endlessly for the rest of the night.

*****

It was ten o’clock by the time she rolled out of bed. “Ugh,” she groaned when the sunlight hit her face. She padded into the circular bathroom and showered, gazing out at the ocean and the waves rolling by. The birds flew from tree to tree, and the fluffy clouds floated past.

She sighed. Maybe I should be cloud, she thought. Or bird.Free to fly anywhere anytime and not worry about finding mate, that special someone, that person who makes your heart tremble and jump and do that little dance called love.

She sighed again and came back to reality with a cold hard snap. Turning off the faucet, she grabbed a towel and wandered into the dressing room. Picking up her wig, she sat it on its head next to all the others. Black, red, brown, blonde, different lengths, different styles. Each had a name, and last night’s was Cleopatra, her favourite, worn with a pure gold gem encrusted crown.

She thought about her exploits and knew in an instant what needed to be done.

Part Two

Chapter 1

I was awoken from my deep slumber by the ringing of my phone, and after a few minutes of one sided discussion, I hit the shower and dressed before going downstairs to face the day and the usual morning ritual of our staff meeting.

The staff gathered in the main office. There were twenty couples plus four singles in all. The women did the cooking and cleaning and made sure the guests had everything they needed, and the men took care of keeping the island neat and tidy and flying her men in every month. Some worked in the spa to rejuvenate the guests after a long night, some in security and acquisitions. We have a resident medical staff in our doctor, nurse, chiropractor, physiotherapist and naturopath, plus we have our pilots and yacht crew. I am the personal assistant and manager of the island we get to call home, and am responsible for anything and everything that happens on it.

“Alexi, did the Queen enjoy herself last night?” Dimitri asked quietly as he sat his huge six foot five Russian frame into a chair beside me.

“No,” I replied, “and she realised why.” I looked around at the employees. “She wants new men. She’s bored with the ones that are here and wants new specimens. So we need to find some.” Dealing with the usual checklist first, we moved on to finding new men to accommodate the Queen’s island. “We need to find fresh meat,” I said, “celebrities, sportsmen, anyone interested in spending a month on our little old island simply for the pleasure of a rich woman.”

Dimitri smirked. “Wouldn’t most men want that?” As head of Security and Acquisitions, he knew all about the Queen and what she wanted, as well as her insatiable need for men and sex. He was also one of three loyal workers she had kept after her husband died.

I smiled back. “Yes, you’d think they would for a hundred thousand dollars tax free.” That was the way it had been set up, so the conquests could get away with not having to explain where they got that much money from to their wives or girlfriends. Or the tax department.

I turned to John, our computer guru and internet hacker extraordinaire. “Dig up anyone. Find photos of eligible men, do background checks, the usual, in the meantime, Captain,” I looked at our yacht commander, “can you get the boat ready to send the current lot home?”

“Ma’am.” He wrote some notes on the paper in front of him. “About an hour?”

“That’s fine. Mattie, can you get the men’s things together and start cleaning their rooms. They can lounge outside until it’s time to go.”

“Of course.”

I looked around the room at the humble servants who served the Queen and thanked them for their time. “Meeting adjourned.” I tidied my papers and was stopped by Dimitri as he stood.

“Alexi, is the Queen all right?” he asked softly in my ear.

I waited until everyone had filed out of the room before answering. “No,” I replied just as softly, “she’s not.” I gazed imploringly up at his big brown eyes and sturdy face. He was the Queen’s only confidant and knew so much of the pain and angst she had gone through. “But she will be.” I smiled again and squeezed his hand. “Can you make sure the men get on board and leave for me?”

“Of course.” He squeezed my hand back and left the room.

The moment he was gone I clutched the table. Dizziness overcame me, and I breathed slowly. “Oh, God, I need to get out of here.” I ran upstairs to my room and shut the door tightly behind me. Leaning against it, I felt my knees buckle. “How can I keep doing this? How can we keep doing this?” I muttered before my knees gave way. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a wall mirror as I slid to the floor and did not like what I saw.

*****

The Queen stood on her balcony, watching the yacht sail off with its passengers on board. Brushing a strand of hair aside, she wondered who would arrive next and what sort of slaves they would be. Would they pleasure her the way she wanted? The way she needed. Would she finally find the one that could give her what she wanted? What she needed. And would her servants do her proud with the choices they made?

*****

I walked into the mansion’s large spacious office with its ocean views looking for John, and found him staring at the three large computer screens around him. “Any news yet? Pictures, details, bait, man meat?” I joked.

He barely glanced up. “There are a few potentials,” he muttered. “But by the time I narrow it all down to milady’s requirements, there aren’t many left. She’s been through most of them.”

“I highly doubt that.” My hands moved in my pockets. “What about Aussie men? The good old land of Australia? I know there are some pretty hot men there considering I’m from there, grab a list of them together for me. Pics, bios, background check. Celebs, non celebs, there has to be someone?” I scratched my head then straightened my short brown hair. “Think outside the box…find some blond…actors.”

John caught the second last word, and his head shot up in shock. “But, but, but…”

“Think outside the box, John,” I repeated as I walked toward the door. “But she doesn’t like blonds…” was all I heard as I headed for the kitchen.

*****

The Queen sat in her large dark red dressing room and stared at the person looking back. It was dark out, and the only light was the lamp glowing softly next to her on the dressing table. “What do we do?” came from her in her Russian accent.

“I don’t know,” came the Australian reply. “Haven’t you had enough of this yet?”

“Not yet.” She thought about her days in Russia and the pain she had endured. “Not until I find the man who killed my husband.”

“I thought you wanted to find the man who was your soul mate so you could spend the rest of your life playing happy families?”

“No,” she said, glancing up. “That is you.”

*****

“We have some candidates,” John said the next morning at the daily meeting.

“Show me.” I reached for the files he was holding.

“There’s only five so far,” he added, “unless she wants more.”

I scanned each bio carefully and studied their faces. All good looking men. Brunet, blue-eyed, tall, muscular, masculine. I felt nothing, like I always did, until I flipped to the last photo.

He took my breath away.

My heart started its dance of love, unless it was a rhumba or samba. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, I could only stare at his blue-eyed blond looks. Six five, muscular and wide. Wide, wide, ever so wide shoulders that had wide muscular arms attached to them that could envelope me and never let me go. No chest hair, just smooth, soft looking skin that I wanted to slide my fingers over and have the muscles below ripple under them.

“Alexi?” Dimitri called. “Alexi?” He frowned at my silence.

It brought me out of my raunchy scenario to see everyone in the room staring at my face, which I’m sure was beet red, with dilated pupils. “Um,” cough, “um, what?” I squeaked.

“Looks like we’ve found a winner,” John said as others tittered and giggled. “Are those five enough for now as that’s all I could find?”

“Um,” I muttered and cleared my throat. “Um, sure. I’ll just um, keep these and um, show the Queen when she’s up.” I slammed the bios to my chest so no one could take them. “Dismissed.” I gulped down a glass of water as everyone except Dimitri walked out.

He waited until they were gone. “Looks like you may have found one you like yourself.” He waited for my reply, curious and suspicious, yet angered by my reaction to the man in the photo.