Seduce Me Forever (Seduce Me #4) Page 4

  I writhed from his touch. He moved over to my left breast. While he massaged my swollen bud with his tongue he caressed and erotically squeezed my right breast with his hand. I wasn't sure how much more I could take before I came.

  “Ohh Brandon. I need you. I want you. Fuck me, baby,” I panted breathlessly.

  Brandon scooped me up in his arms. He place me on the bed and flipped me over onto my stomach. He place me in a crouched position. He grabbed a pillow and positioned underneath me.

  I heard the foil package tear open. I peeked over my shoulder as he rolled the XL, maybe it was even XXL, condom over his massive sex. Oh how I had missed his equipment inside of me.

  He moved onto the bed and got on his knees. He grabbed my hips and held me tight. He came in close behind me. I felt his tip enter the slit of my sex. He slowly pushed inward. I let out a moan as he stretched my walls.

  Brandon's crown was pressing perfectly against my joy button. He began to move his hips. With each thrust I felt a wave of erotic pleasure surge through me. Over and over he pressed my pleasure button. As his hips ground into me I slipped into a sexually induced trance.

  Brandon was taking me to heights of sexual ecstasy that was even new for us. I was barely aware of breathless moans of pleasure as Brandon delivered one orgasm. And then another. And then he pushed through to deliver a third. I was in Shangri-La.

  When Brandon gifted me with a final orgasm, even more intense than the ones before, he withdrew from inside me. I floated back and became aware of my surroundings again. I rolled over onto my back next to Brandon. We stared at the ceiling.

  My breasts were heaving up and down as I tried to regain my breath. Our bodies glistened with sweat. I was trying to regain focus. Brandon had literally made me blurry with pleasure.

  “I don't know if I will be able to walk straight after that,” I said once I regained my breath.

  “Then I guess I did it correctly.”

  “I think that is a massive understatement.”

  I turned my head and gazed into Brandon's beautiful blue eyes. They were hypnotic. I was lost in this man again. I couldn't have been more satisfied.

  “Speaking of massive,” I said as I glanced down at Brandon's penis. “That never felt better inside of me.”

  Brandon smiled. He leaned over and kiss me gently on the lips.

  “I love you, Ashley Sullivan.”

  “I love you, Brandon Mitchell.”

  He wrapped me in his arms and I nestled my head against his chest. We stayed like that for quite some time. Happy to be in the moment. Not in any rush to go anywhere. But I couldn't help but feel that we took a big step forward.

  Chapter Ten

  I woke the next morning feeling satisfied and refreshed. I heard the shower running in the bathroom. I thought of joining Brandon for a repeat of the shower at Lusso resort, but my stomach was growling. The shower stopped and I headed for the bathroom.

  “No funny business. I need a quick shower so we can go to breakfast,” I said as I stepped into the bathroom. Thankfully, Brandon's privates were covered by the towel as he dried himself off. Although it made it only moderately easier to scoot past him and into the shower.

  “Are we eating in the hotel restaurant or going out?” he asked as I turned the water on. I loved that the water was already heated from Brandon's shower.

  “I hear that the hotel has a great Sunday buffet. Unless you prefer to go somewhere else.”

  “Nope. The buffet sounds great.”

  Brandon shaved as I finished my shower. I toweled off as he dressed. I dried my hair, dressed, and we headed for the breakfast buffet. We both piled our plates with eggs, pancakes and bacon. I added a bowl of fruit to feel like I was eating healthy.

  “Looks like we both worked up quite an appetite,” said Brandon as we sat at our table.

  “Someone was extra energetic last night.”

  “Making up for lost time.”

  We ate and talked and laughed. It was the old Brandon. Actually, an improved version of the old Brandon. I was feeling comfortable with him again.

  “How would you like to go to France?” Brandon asked half way through breakfast.

  “I'd love to go to France. Business, pleasure, or both?”

  “Strictly pleasure. I've wanted to take you since we met. Now seems like a very good time for us to get away for a romantic vacation.”

  “Now, as in . . .”

  “Now, as in today. Well, tomorrow. Fly home to New York today. Pack tonight. Leave tomorrow.”

  “Can we just pick up and go like that?”

  “Why not. I've already had Teresa clear my schedule for next week. Your staff is humming along. We can both afford a week out of the office. I think it would be good for us.”

  “I'm not one to argue with a week in France. Let's do it.”

  “Fabulous. I was thinking part of the week cruising the French Riviera and then top it off with a few days in Paris.”

  “Sounds magical.”

  I was as giddy as a school girl. I had always wanted to go to France. Now, I was going at the most perfect time. Brandon and I were rekindling the spark of our relationship. Better than that we had, for the first time, told each other “I love you.”

  We finished breakfast, gathered our luggage, and I checked out of the hotel. Brandon called a car service to take us to the airport. His Learjet was ready and waiting to take us to New York.

  When we landed in New York I texted Chelsea and let her know that I was coming home a little early from L.A.. I left out any details. She was going to flip out when I told her what was going on.

  Brandon had one of the company cars pick us up and drive us to our buildings. As I made my way through the lobby of my building, Chelsea came up beside me. I jumped.

  “Hey, Ash. Just got your text.”

  “Don't sneak up on me like that. A great way to get yourself pepper sprayed.”

  “Sorry. Why are you home early? Everything okay?”

  “I guess that depends on your perspective.”

  “Uh oh. I don't think I'm going to like this,” Chelsea said as we stepped onto the elevator.

  I wasn't sure that I wanted to tell her with nowhere to run.

  “Let's get upstairs and let me go to the bathroom and then I'll tell you everything.”

  “You're stalling. I'm definitely not going to like it.”

  There was no use in pretending with Chelsea. She could read me like a book. But if she didn't have any details, she couldn't lay into me too hard.

  After we arrived at our apartment I made a beeline for the bathroom. I drank a lot of water on the flight back and really did have to go pretty bad. Chelsea was sitting on my bed waiting for me.

  “Alright, Ashley. Give.”

  “I have decided to stay at Jacqueline. In fact, I will be staying with an increase in salary to match the offer from Adele.” I said feeling rather proud of myself.

  “That's wonderful. I am so glad you're staying!”

  Chelsea jumped up and gave me a big hug. Then she realized that there had to be more. The part that she was not going to like.

  “Okay. That is the good news. What is the part that I am not going to like?”

  “I think that it is also a good thing. I'm taking a little vacation to France. I leave tomorrow.”

  “Whoa. That's . . .great. Do I take it that you are not going to France alone?”

  “You'd be correct.”

  “Since you are staying in New York, I somehow doubt that you have miraculously fallen in love with Jeremy and are going with him.”

  “Also correct.”

  Chelsea crossed her arms and stiffened her back. Her eyes bore into me. I was glad she couldn't shoot lasers with her eyes.

  “Brandon F'n Mitchell?”

  “There's no F'n in his name, Chels. But, yes.”

  Chelsea tapped her foot rapidly. Her body tensed. I don't even think she realized.

  “I need to sit,” she said as she plo
pped back onto my bed. She sat in silence.

  I let her. I figured it was better then getting into an argument. Although I suspected that one might already be brewing.

  “Well?!” she finally said.

  “Well, what?”

  “How did it happen? How did you go from where you were Friday to where it seems you are now? Which I am not entirely clear on. Other than you are jetting off to France with Brandon.”

  At least she dropped the F'n after his name. Baby steps. It was progress. Perhaps she had been preparing for this moment. Chelsea can know me better than I know myself sometimes.

  “To be honest, I think I had been leaning this way all along. I didn't know it, but it became clearer to me. Brandon and I have had some wonderful heart to heart conversations.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Conditionally, for now. I've laid out terms to our giving this another try.”

  I explained the terms to Chelsea. I told her all about my conversations with Brandon.

  Chelsea's mood softened somewhat.

  “I can't say that this surprises me all that much,” she stated. “I am glad that you told him that I would be watching him like a hawk. And I will be. Believe me, Ash, when I tell you that he better not even come close to breaking your heart again.”

  “I know you will. And I know you have your concerns about this, Chels. But I really need you to support my decision.”

  I sat down on my bed next to her. “I do love him. I know that to be true. I'm willing to take this chance because my life is better with him in it. That is something that I have learned through all of this.”

  Chelsea hugged me. “I luv ya, Ash. You know I will support you. I want you to be happy. I've also got your back. Always.”

  “I know. I luv ya too. I'm happy with where I think things are headed. I couldn't have said that last week.”

  “Okay, so tell me about France. What are we going to need to pack for you?”

  “French Riviera and then a few days in Paris.”

  “Love it! I have a few ideas.”

  “I thought you might.” I smiled at where I was at in my life. I felt that this vacation to France would tell me a lot about what to expect going forward. But I was glad to be traveling this road now.

  Chapter Eleven

  The French Riviera was gorgeous. We were still recovering from jet lag, albeit jet lag from traveling on Brandon's private jet, so we were lounging on the deck of Jacqueline III, the Davenport family yacht. Well, one of them. The yacht they kept in Europe. They had others in the Caribbean, California, and the Hamptons.

  It was hard for me to get used to all of the luxury. I know that may sound strange, but I grew up very middle class. We had everything we needed and enough of what we wanted. But we only saw toys like the Davenport yachts in the distance when we would go to the beach on South Padre Island. Yet, here I was sunning myself on the deck of Jacqueline III in the French Riviera. Pinch me.

  The only view better than the Mediterranean Sea and French coast was Brandon in his Speedo. All the horrifying images of middle-aged, overweight, men sporting one were easily erased when Brandon appeared on deck. Yes, some men were made to wear a Speedo. Other men, definitely not. Brandon, without a doubt, was in the made to wear one category.

  In fact, if there hadn't already been the Speedo, they would invent it just so Brandon could wear it. He looked that good in it. His deliciously toned, hard ass in back and marvelous bulge in front. Need I say more?

  “What a beautiful day,” he said as he peeled his t-shirt off. Oh my! No matter how many times I saw him shirtless, it still made me breathless. I don't think I would ever tire of how amazing he looked. The physique of a Greek god.

  “Warmer than usual this time of year,” he added as he slid a deck chair over near me. He kissed me on the cheek and plopped into his chair.

  “It is so peaceful. I could just stay here forever,” I said.

  “A nice start to our little get away.” Brandon took my hand in his.

  “Most definitely.”

  “Is that the same bikini from that picture on your Facebook page?” he asked looking me up and down.

  “Yes,” I said with a smile. “I remembered how you said you liked the way I looked in it.”

  “I believe I said that you 'rock' that bikini. And you do.”

  “Thank you. I'm glad you still think so.”

  It was my sexiest bikini. A Victoria's Secret Strappy Brazilian Bikini in 'date night' pink. I liked it because the top was flattering to my breasts and offered an enticing amount of cleavage. The bottoms were enough to cover my privates, but not much more. They were strappy so I was showing a considerable amount of my thighs.

  “I think others will think so as well,” Brandon said rather nonchalantly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there is a good chance that a picture of you will end up in some of gossip rags. Print and online.”

  “Why? I'm not famous. I could see the paparazzi snapping pictures of you with super models and movie stars, but not me.”

  “Don't be so sure. I can see the headlines now 'Billionaire Playboy Brandon Mitchell with Sexy Mystery Woman',” he said with a grin.

  “Stop. You are teasing.”

  “Maybe that wouldn't be the headline, but sooner or later you and I will be news. As soon as they notice us together more than a few times in public.”

  “Why didn't we make news before?”

  “We did a few times. But press releases about your hire and development of the Digital and Social Media department deflected rumors. It was only a matter of time before they circled back around to ask questions. Especially when I wasn't spotted out and about with other women.”

  “And now that we will be completely open about dating . . .”

  “They will want to know everything about you.”

  “Great,” I said with a sigh. “Not that I have anything to hide. It's just my background is pretty unremarkable. I don't think it will make for very interesting reading.”

  “They'll find a way to make it interesting. Pretty creative folk at those gossip publications.”

  I hadn't thought much about there being any public interest in me because I was dating Brandon. Which is crazy, of course, seeing as how I had a media degree and led a media department. Granted, I was in fashion media. But I should have known better.

  Brandon could see the hamster wheel turning in my head. He patted me on the leg.

  “Don't worry. A few pictures of us. A couple of stories. After a while there really won't be much to gossip about. Especially if we are open about dating. More likely we will get mentions in the society pages for attending different functions, charity work, that sort of thing,” he said reassuringly.

  “I suppose. It's more that I didn't consider the fact that there would be any sort of media interest. I mean, duh.”

  “Yes, you are a media maven. But a fashion media maven. Not a gossip media maven.”

  “But I read them. At least in the checkout line at the grocery store.”

  “Are you really going to dwell on this? Look around you.”

  “You're right. What's on the agenda for today?”

  “More of this. Some swimming. We can check out the beaches. You know, the French Riviera is famous for topless beaches.”

  “Are you kidding me? After we just discussed ending up in gossip magazines. Yeah, just what I need, topless pictures of me popping up all over the Internet. Besides, I read that topless sunbathing is declining.”

  “Perhaps. But not gone. Not yet.”

  “Maybe not. But I will not be baring my breasts in public.”

  “How about a private show later?”

  “That, I can arrange. As long as there is a nice tip.”

  “Oh, I've got a tip I can give you,” Brandon said as he glanced downward at his Speedo.

  I lightly smacked his arm. “You're bad.”

  “Yes. But it is so good when we are a little bad
.”

  He kissed me. I melted inside. I was enjoying Brandon's second chance.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brandon and I thoroughly enjoyed the first part of our vacation. Life on a yacht as you cruise the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of France is not a bad way to spend a week. It was a week of firsts for me.

  First time to France. First time on a yacht. First time having sex on a yacht. Actually, I had my first, second, third, and fourth time having sex on a yacht. I was hoping there was more yacht sex in my future.

  More yacht sex would have to wait for another time. Brandon and I traveled to Paris for the last part of our romantic French vacation. One that was turning out to be too short. But, to my delight, the best week Brandon and I had ever had together.

  Brandon was sincere about making our relationship work. We were getting closer without any of the distractions of work or other obligations. The sex was also elevated to a whole other level. Mind-blowing and erotic as always, but also more sensual and intimate.

  In Paris we were staying at the Le Bristol Hotel, one of Paris's finest 5-star hotels. As a bonus for me, Le Bristol was located in the fashion district. Brandon asked if I minded entertaining myself for a few hours while he worked out.

  “I'm in Paris. The fashion district, no less. I suppose I can force myself to do a little shopping,” I had responded with a sly smile. Credit card in hand I was off.

  I was walking along Rue Du Faubourg-Saint Honore. Designer showrooms featuring clothes, cosmetics and furnishings from Dior, Chanel, Gucci, and avaunt guard exclusive Paris girl boutiques all beckoned me. Nowhere, not even the iconic department stores in Manhattan, were window decorations taken so seriously. Each shop window seemed more attractive than the last.

  I stopped in front of Hermès to admire a hand rolled, hot pink, 36” x 36”, silk scarf that would look fabulous worn as a blouse. It was 325 Euros. I figured that was about $445. Why not?, I thought to myself. I just received a substantial raise on top of an already great salary, and Brandon was paying for our vacation. I went into Hermès and exited twenty minutes later with the scarf and a few additional items.