Free Billionaires in Paris: An Alpha Billionaire Romance by Cynthia Dane Page A

better things.”
    I know he means me. Dear heaven do I know he means me!
    He goes to his suitcase. Even though we’re here for almost a week, neither of us are the type to unpack in a hotel room. Doesn’t matter. As I roll over on the bed to watch him go through his things, I can already picture what he’s up to. It’s the same thing that happens when we play out a scene in his condo. When he’s ready to totally control me, he goes to the top drawer in his bureau and peruses.
    He picks a solid black tie and a royal purple one. I’m pretty sure I bought the purple one for him some months ago. Know what I also bought for him? The sandalwood cologne he’s wearing. Turns me on every time I get a whiff.
    I think he’s going to use those to tie me up, but after they land on the bed behind him, Ian pulls up a stack of shirts in his suitcase and grabs something the TSA would’ve had a field day with had we not flown on a private jet and bypassed that bullshit.
    The silky ropes coil on top of me. Ian places a pair of scissors on the nightstand. His furrowed brows are so determined to get him to the next phase of our scene that I want to laugh.
    I don’t, though. I pull a rope off me and finger how soft it is. Perfect condition. We’ve used them before, I swear. How could they still be in such great condition, unless he’s buying new ones all the time?
    “Lie down.”
    He takes his time binding me to the headboard. The softness and elasticity of these ropes allow a lot of movement while still immobilizing me. Once I’m completely at his whim, I shudder, garnering a smile out of his otherwise stoic face.
    “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His knee parts my legs. Ian hovers above me, that sandalwood cologne stronger than the taste of his cock I still have in my mouth. “Do you want to look into my eyes as we make love?”
    I nod.
    “Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.” The black tie encircles my face, covering my eyes. The purple one tickles the corner of my mouth. I don’t say anything. I wouldn’t want him to think that I don’t like this.
    Although I can’t see him, I can certainly feel him. Ian squeezes my breasts, coaxing the lingerie cups down until my nipples and mounds spill from them. His tongue lashes against my nipple, and I can’t help it – I’m writhing, responding to how he sucks, licks, and nips with his teeth. He must like the way I squeal.
    Ian asks if I remember my safe word. After I confirm, he says, “I’m going to devour you.”
    My thong rips away. His finger ascends my slit, not only rubbing against my clit, but teasing my entrance as well. Fuck! One moment his clothing taunts my skin, and the next it’s only his skin that I feel. Sometimes I hear him taking his clothes off. Sometimes I’m shocked to feel what I do.
    It’s all of him coming for all of me. I barely have time to register it before the head of his cock is coming for me.
    Restraint isn’t about thrills. It’s not about turning him on, although that’s an excellent side-effect. It helps me let go and simply enjoy sex for what it is. I don’t have to worry about touching him enough. I don’t have to concern myself with what goes where and how I do it. I’m the passive one here. Everything’s being done to me. Some would say that’s boring. To be sure, I used to think the same way. Now I know. How liberating it is.
    His strength always takes me by surprise. No man has ever thrust into me like Ian does. You would think we were made to fit together, like two pieces of a complicated puzzle. It’s not always easy. It’s not always meant to be. But it always feels so good once it happens.
    The sounds I make are wild and needy. More, more, give me more! Don’t stop! Do it harder, faster! Kiss me, bite me, grope me until my flesh is covered in bruises! His cock is already swelling as it surges into me, pounding me right in my core over and over, dragging me to the brink of orgasm and then refusing to