Tied to the Billionaire(22)

The crazy thing was, Charles would be happy to share his wealth with Elena, probably more so because he knew she didn’t want it. Elena loved the South of France as much as he did, they’d spoken about it previously. The apartment he kept in town had always suited him, but it wasn’t a home. His parents had passed some years ago and he spent less and less time in New York where he’d grown up. Though he was still very much involved in the investment business he’d set up with Henry, he wanted a more permanent base. He could envision himself spending more time in France, a lot more time. If Elena consented to sharing her life with him, he’d find her the most luxurious house money could buy and that would be a home, because Elena would be in it.

“Ah, Mr Hunt, welcome,” the ma?tre d’ said, his smile bright. “Let me show you to your table.”

Charles nodded. “Thank you, Pierre.”

They followed him through the dimly lit restaurant then out to a small terrace at the back, which overlooked a well-maintained garden. The terrace had been decorated exactly to Charles’ specifications. White fairy lights adorned the wooden beams and trellises, and dozens of tapered candles flickered gently in the soft breeze. Charles’ chest swelled with pride at Elena’s sharp intake of breath.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered reverently.

When they’d taken their seats and Pierre had handed them the wine list then left them alone to decide, Elena leaned across the table, suspicion evident on her proud and striking face.

“Why is the restaurant empty?”

Charles grinned. “Because I paid a lot of money to ensure we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

“Do you always get what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Elena shook her head. “You can’t buy everything, you know.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

Elena frowned and straightened her shoulders. Sitting back in her chair, she appeared to consider his statement. “You can’t buy me,” she said with conviction.

“Nor would I want to. I was rather hoping you could see past the money and the material things it can buy. I figured you were the type of woman who could see me before all the trappings of my wealth.”

“I do, Charles. But then why all this?” she asked, sweeping her hand around to indicate the adornments to the terrace and the empty seats.

Charles shrugged. “Because I can. Because I wanted it to be perfect for you—I wanted it to be special. Nothing but the best for my Elena.”

Elena was smiling even as she raised her eyebrow. “Your Elena.”

“Damn straight you are.”

Charles held his breath while he waited to see how Elena would react to that little display of ownership, but to his relief, she shook her head, a delightful peal of laughter escaping her lips.

“Just what have I gotten myself into with you?”

Charles leaned in until he was so close his lips were nearly touching her earlobe. “Nothing you don’t want.” As he pulled back, he saw the shiver that ran over her body leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Isn’t that right, Elena?”

Her eyes were hooded when they next met his, her cheeks flushed with the delightful hue of desire. “Yes,” she breathed.

Her reply was all the invitation Charles required to close the distance between them, but he still wouldn’t kiss her even though he was impatient and felt a driving force to take what he wanted. She had to come to him or at least follow his direction. It was time to see just how well she would respond.

“Give me your mouth, Elena,” he instructed.

Without pause, Elena moved that extra inch closer. She wet her lips then pressed them against his. Charles bit back a groan. Instinct took over and he immediately began to dominate the kiss, deepening it. Her gasp offered him the perfect opportunity to push his tongue inside and take what he so desperately needed. He pulled her against his body, kissing her deeper still. Soon, Elena wrapped her arms around his neck. She gripped his hair, holding him in place as she kissed him back with a hungry, insatiable need. There was plenty of ownership in the kiss, but it didn’t all come from Charles. Elena was staking her claim too and didn’t that make his cock throb like it was trying to fight its way out of his pants.

Charles slid his hand down Elena’s neck then over her breast. He cupped it firmly. She wore no bra under the delicate silk dress, which made it easy for him to slip his hand inside and pinch an already erect nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, making her shudder and moan into his mouth. Charles was sure if he reached down he’d find her * soaking wet, but he couldn’t chance it. If he pushed his fingers inside her wet channel, he’d want his cock inside it too. And that would have to wait until later when he had time to f*ck her properly.

“Touch me,” he said against her lips. “Take out my cock and stroke me.”

Elena sprang back, her eyes wide. Her soft pink lips were wet and deliciously swollen.

“Can anyone see us here?”

“I certainly hope so.”

She started to shake her head, looking behind her as though to ensure they were really alone. “What about the ma?tre d’? Won’t he be back to take our order?”

Charles didn’t give a shit. Pierre could pull up a chair and watch for all he cared. All that mattered was him and Elena and what they were about to do. But Charles didn’t want to give the guy heart failure and this was one of his favourite restaurants in Cannes. He’d like to be able to return. And the very idea of Pierre seeing Elena that way brought out a sudden burst of possessiveness. He’d f*cked in front of people before and enjoyed it, but that had been with women who had meant nothing to him. This was different—Elena was different.