The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin
By: Doris O ConnorHe swore under his breath. She went as still as a statue when she noticed his state of arousal, and he released her with some reluctance. It had been a while since he'd engaged in the pleasures of the flesh, and Lakota admitted to himself that he found her far too attractive.
He'd been watching from his office when she'd exited the limo, her green eyes wide and searching as she took in her surroundings. She'd looked impossibly young and unsure, and not at all what he'd been expecting, so when Percy had come to find him with a big grin on his face, Lakota had to see her close up.
Seeing her completely engrossed in the childlike act of throwing a coin into his courtyard fountain had taken another chink out of his armor, and he didn’t like that one little bit.
This close to her, he could see that her face was completely bare of any make-up, apart from a touch of lip gloss and mascara. Her blonde locks, pulled back into a messy pony tail, threatened to escape their bondage completely, and his fingers itched to touch the silky strands. An image of her on top of him, naked with her blonde tresses covering them both swam into his mind, and he pushed her away with more force than was strictly necessary.
"I don't understand. Of course I'm leaving, and I don't want to put you out. I'm sorry to be intruding on your grief at such a time." She wrapped her arms around herself again as she spoke, and her little teeth worried her bottom lip leaving indents in their wake.
Lakota crunched his jaw together and forced himself to breathe evenly. The simple act was incredibly erotic.
"You're not intruding on anything, and you're not leaving. And if you were, my driver would be taking you home. I'm not a complete ogre." He growled the words, and her expressive eyes widened to such a degree they looked huge in her pale face.
"But why am I here? The bid was with your brother, and if … I mean under the circumstances … I …" Her words faltered, and heat crept into her cheeks.
Now there was a thing he hadn't seen in a while. An honest to goodness blush on a woman. He didn't know women still did that, not unless they wanted something, but little Alice in front of him couldn't even look at him. Every pore of her being quivered in embarrassment and confusion, and Lakota's instincts were screaming at him that on this occasion at least, this woman—this contradiction in terms—seemed genuine. How he knew that he couldn't even begin to explain to himself, and that thought made him angry.
She had to have an agenda; they all did. It was just his dick talking, that's all. Lust clouded a man's brain, and this woman ticked all the right boxes to have his long forgotten libido sit up and scream at him to take what was his. And she was his. He'd bought her after all.
"That's where you're mistaken, little Alice." He smiled at the way her blush deepened and her breathing hitched. Not in embarrassment this time, but temper. Sure enough she stamped her foot and glared at him.
"Will you stop calling me that? I am not little, and I have not followed some rabbit down a hole to get here."
Lakota laughed, and she grumbled under her breath. He'd just bet she'd sound like that in the throes of passion. He shifted his weight to ease the discomfort in his groin, and that blush of hers deepened to a bright scarlet when her gaze darted briefly to his crotch, before she wrenched her eyes upwards and pointedly stared at a spot over his left shoulder.
"Not a rabbit, no, just the proverbial carrot," he said. "Tell me, what is the minimum amount you'd have sold your virtue for? That is, if indeed you're still as intact as you claim to be."
She gasped and balled her hands into fists.
"How dare you? I had those humiliating tests to prove that I am, and you know full well what my reserve was. And I couldn't sell anything, if there weren't perverts like your brother in this world willing to pay for it." As though she realized what she'd said she clamped a hand over her mouth in horror, and Lakota smiled in grim amusement.
"Lucky for you, he was, otherwise you wouldn't be cashing in now, would you? At my expense I might add. It's my money that paid for that winning bid, and thus it's me who owns you, little Alice. And before you ask, I have no fucking clue what your reserve was, as it's not me who wanted to deflower you. I prefer my women experienced in bed, not a whimpering virgin who'll likely pass out when she sees my cock."
He was all too aware that he was overstepping the line, his words intended to wound, but something about the way she protested her innocence, as though she'd been wronged in this somehow, grated on his nerves. He wasn't a cruel man per se, though his business adversaries might disagree with that statement, but little Alice here made him wish for things that he had no business wishing for.
