Goose bumps puckered against my legs as I reached for the blanket tossed over the back of the couch.
Then, a small movement caught the corner of my eye.
For the love of heaven, Elizabeth was fucking beautiful: her skin all flushed from her bath, that little giggle of hers as trace amounts of bubbles still lingered upon her skin, the way her long legs stretched out and rested easily against the damn couch arm. She was driving me insane. My cock had been hard since she said she was going to take a damn bath. And the second I went into my room, I couldn’t stop thinking about her naked body in that warm water. I came out into the living room to enjoy the view of Vienna from the massive windows that lined the living room, and there she was, ordering an impressive amount of food that made me salivate as well as my cock leak.
Her robe was nothing but a fluffy sheet of fabric. Here I was, trying to get some damn work done at a small table while overlooking Vienna, and she was out there, waiting on food and exposing her legs to the point where I wanted to bend her over the damn couch and slide my cock right into her body. This fake fiancée schtick had been tempting me the entire flight, and watching her spread her long limbs out on the couch made me ache to be against her, to press her into the couch, to fuck her until she called out my name so the whole of Austria knew who she belonged to.
At least for the week.
Her eyes met mine, and that cute little smile of hers fell into a shocked sort of stare. I wasn’t used to having this sort of reaction to a woman. They pursued me, never the other way around. I’d never paid any attention to them. I preferred to concentrate on building my empire and personally vetting all those I surrounded myself with. Plus, I wasn’t into the gold-digging type. Most men enjoyed that. Many men enjoyed women who gladly parted their legs as long as they bought them expensive things. But that wasn’t my type of woman.
I wanted to worship a woman who worshipped me. Not my wallet.
Sure, plenty of women threw themselves at me. It happened on a regular basis. But they were always after my money. None of them wanted to know me or what I was about, nor cared a damn about my business or why I traveled. They wanted to travel with me as long as I gave them free reign of my bank account and my credit card. They didn’t bother with me, so I didn’t bother with them.
But then again, the sexy vixen known as Elizabeth—whose body was sprawled out onto a couch as the lights of Vienna twinkled against her skin—was a professional. She didn’t have to know me, and I didn’t have to know her. Not really. Not truly. I could use her body to satisfy my urges without regret or worry because that was what she had been hired to do. That was her profession. Hell, she was my fiancée for the week, and if I ever got engaged myself, I would most definitely take advantage of the prime situation I found myself in. If Elizabeth was really mine, I’d rip her luscious body off that couch, pin her back against the floor-length windows, and gaze out along the beautiful city while listening to her chant my name.
I could possess that beautiful body of hers, and the simple thought caused my cock to leak against my pants.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Enjoy your dinner.”
I felt her eyes on me as I exited the room. And the second I stripped down, I sighed with relief. My boxers were soiled, and my thighs glistened with the cum that dripped from my cock all the way from fucking New York City. I flipped on the shower and made the water as cold as I could stand it, then stepped into the stream. I let it flow over my body. I allowed it to penetrate me to my core, causing me to shiver. The cold water would help my erection go away, help my body to calm down. Help my urges to recede.
Except it didn’t work at all.
I reached down for the warm water and turned it until steam filled the bathroom. Then, I laid my forearm against the wall and pressed my head into it. If I couldn’t get my girth to die down, then I had another option at my disposal.
I allowed my mind to wander as I wrapped my hand around my cock. I closed my eyes and imagined myself storming into that living room. I saw myself ripping her off that couch and crashing my lips against hers, listening to her sounds as I slipped that pathetic excuse for a robe off her body. Fuck, I’d lick her from head to toe. Run my tongue around her nipples and drive my cock into her tight pussy until she gasped and cried out for mercy. I’d delay her orgasm, licking her clit and burying my face between her thick thighs until she quaked for me, only to back off and slide my cock in again.