Free How to Seduce a Billionaire by Portia Da Costa

his head against the tempered and one-way glass of his magnificent-viewed window. Clasping his length in his fist, he began to work himself slowly, picturing Jess moving uneasily in his bed, plagued by the same fires of lust that tormented him now.
    Had she fancied him? Yes, he was sure she had. He could tell the signs. Bright eyes, flushed face, the pert, spiky way she’d responded to him. She might be a virgin, but she was a sensualist too. He’d no way of knowing
why
she was still virgin well into her twenties, but a gut instinct told him it wasn’t because she was cold. Quite the reverse. When she did have sex, when she was relaxed, she would enjoy it. She’d
love
it! And God, did he want to be the first one to light the blue touch paper on an inferno of passion and response.
    Working his hand and his hips, he thrust his cock to and fro in the glove of his curled fingers. His pre-come flowed from his tip, the silkiness of it lubricating the slide of his flesh, mimicking the silk that would flow from Jess’s sweet puss when he prepared her long and slowly with pleasure and orgasms.
    I’ll introduce you to sex with every power at my command, beautiful girl. That’ll be my project, and my pledge to you. I won’t let some clod who doesn’t appreciate you be the first.
    Clamping his fingers tighter around himself, he imagined the sweet, tight grip of her sex, rippling and pulsating around him as she came, for the first time, around a man.
    ‘Oh dear God,’ he chanted as the white heat of pleasure barrelled down his spine, and through his loins, jetting out as semen that spattered in sticky bursts against the window.
    Oh Jess
, he thought again, smiling as he slumped against the strong glass, anticipating the delicious times that lay ahead with a bright, delicious woman.
    But first, he had a cleaning up job to do. Laughing softly to himself, he fastened his robe, and headed for the utility room, his heart feeling lighter than it had done in a long time.

7
    I’ll be in touch, Jess. I mean it.
    Four days had passed. Four crazy days. Four days of people at work asking stupid questions about whether she was going to see ‘the big boss’ again, and her saying ‘No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous.’ Pam and Emma were particularly disappointed.
    But Jess
had
considered calling or texting Ellis McKenna, because it had been four days of thinking about him, non-stop. She’d put his number in her phone’s address book and once or twice, she’d been right on the point of calling it, and some dumb thing or other had happened, and the opportune moment had been gone. After about the fourth time, she’d decided it was fate and a message from the gods that it wasn’t supposed to be.
    So when her phone made its text noise while she was on the bus home, and there was the name, ‘Ellis’, she cried ‘Fucking hell!’ and dropped the thing on the floor.
    ‘I beg your pardon?’ remarked a cheeky lad in the seat opposite, retrieving the phone for her.
    ‘Thanks! Phone spam! I hate it!’ replied Jess, almost shaking too much to tap the icon to read the message.
    Hi Jess, how are you? Would love to take you to dinner. How does La Girandole at eight tonight sound? Let me know. I promise not to behave like an oaf this time. E
    In her mind’s eye, she saw that devilish smile. His confident swagger.
    Yeah, right, and you’d be heartbroken if I turned you down. Some girl you picked up on the off chance. Not.
    That was harsh, she knew, but still, she started to compose as polite and friendly a refusal as she could manage in a text. Then deleted it. Then took another shot at it. Then deleted that and typed:
    I’d love to. Shall I meet you there? J
    Within moments his reply came.
    Wonderful! I’ll pick you up about seven thirty. Address?
    He probably knew her address, from her personnel file, but she suspected he was trying not to seem too controlling, too stalker-like. She tapped in her address and added
Looking forward