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dew with the sweetness of his touch as he swirled and squeezed and plunged.  Further.  Higher.  Until I was slippery and my hips were swaying along with his guiding perfection.
    But then he stopped. 
    I made a small sound of complaint , rolling towards him, hitching my leg over his hip, offering myself in an open invitation.
    Blithely, he s aid,  “You didn’t answer me.”
    I stared into his dark eyes as my pussy throbbed with his injustice.  “What was the question?”
    “Do you want to leave me for the day, to take care of whatever it is you need to take care of?” he said, his mouth curling into that manly little pout that drove me crazy.
    “I – I don’t know,” I said.   I knew he was testing me.  I knew he would only give me what I wanted if I gave him what he wanted.  I might have felt an inkling of concern at his tactics.  I could have protested, and stood my ground.  But then again, why did I need to take time out from this new, überintense connection anyway?  What did I have to gain by spending five hours without him, when I knew I’d spend the entire time counting the seconds until I could return to him, to touch him and taste him and be wholly at his mercy.  As I was at this exact moment.
    I leaned closer, touching the tips of my breasts to his chest, swivelling my hips against the jut of his erection.
    His finger returned to me, resting oh-so-gently on the hardening peak of my clit.  “Because I could take you,” he murmured, kissing my lips.  “If you want.  If you want to spend the day with me.”  His finger swirled skillfully as he kissed a trail across my jawbone, and the fiery beauty began to rise.  The deep swirl of my climax was forming, gaining momentum.  I tried to kiss his mouth but he pulled back, and his hand once again disengaged, sliding to my leg which he held firmly.  “Only if you want me to.”  His eyes were as black as the deepest, darkest night.
    But I reached for his hand, releasing his fingers one by one until he relented.  I placed his hand between my legs, pressing him against me.  I kissed his lips, pushing little licks into his mouth, tasting him, offering, giving, surrendering.  Anything.  “I do,” I said, opening my legs and my mouth wider in a compliant supplication.  “I want you to take me.  I want you with me.  I want you to come with me everywhere I go.”
    Even before I’d finished speaking he was pushing his cock into me, giving me everything I wanted, feeding my pleasure with the thick, skewering gift of his body.   He was both gentle and fierce, creative yet aware, entirely focused on my bliss, which would mirror, trigger and define his own.  We came together, of course, and the pulse of our simultaneous release was resounding and restorative and absolute.

    Everything seemed a little off-kilter when Alexander’s huge, shiny limo pulled up, with us in it, in front of Eva’s apartment building.  Like we’d just flown in to this grimy side street on a gleaming, otherwordly alien mothership.
    Despite the searing intimacy of the past three days, I felt a little awkward when I asked him, “Do you want to come up?”
    I could sense that he was quietly curious – God knows why – and Eva had practically been bursting with anticipation when I’d called to tell her we were coming to pick up a few things.
    “ The billionaire?  Are you shitting me ?” she’d screeched.  I’d ignored the topic then and I ignored it now.  Almost.
    “Sure,” he said casually.  At least he wasn’t dressed in an Armani suit that cost more than the shared rent of our apartment or s ome such.  He wore jeans and a nondescript black cotton long-sleeved t-shirt.  Aside from the limo, he could almost have been a normal, regular guy.  If you didn’t stare too closely at the watch, which was Swiss and might have been solid gold, the way it gleamed.  And the shoes; even though they were basic and leather, they probably cost more than I’d