The Hotel 2 (The Billionaire Seduction)(7)

Paris!

Dominic is already waiting in the cabin.

"Welcome aboard." He takes my bag with a smile and leads me to the rear  of the plane. It's truly incredible, with plush, recliner-looking  chairs, polished wood accents, and glass-topped tables. Leather bench  seats line the space beneath the windows. There's a flat screen  television, and beneath it, a …

"There's a fireplace in the plane," I say dumbly. It's gas, I'm sure, but still. There's a fireplace. Inside the plane!

"There's one in the bedroom, too." He opens the door at the back and I gasp. There's a private room in there with a massive bed.         

     



 

"This is definitely an upgrade," I crack, nervous. "The last time I flew  anywhere I was jammed in the middle of a row with some kid kicking the  back of my seat for three hours straight."

"You don't have to worry about that here."

Dom puts my bag down and pulls me in for a kiss. I melt into him,  gripping his shirt as his palms trace my shoulders and down my arms.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do with you in Paris, Juliet?" His voice is a throaty whisper.

I shiver with anticipation.

"All the ways I'm going to fuck you … " he continues, sliding his hands  down to grip my ass. "How much you're going to love it, how you're going  to be begging me for more?" Gently, he palms my breast through my  blouse, pebbling my nipple and making me gasp.

"Is that a promise?" I whisper, feeling light-headed.

"An absolute promise."

There's someone approaching down the aisle, but I can't resist leaning  up and murmuring in his ear. "I can't wait to earn my Mile High Club  badge."

He grins. "I like how you think."

The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks the moment. "Mr. Rexford? We're ready." It's the flight attendant.

"Excellent." Dom releases me. "Come then," he tells me with a wink, "We'll find our seats for take-off."

We get settled in the main cabin, although it's like no airplane cabin  I've ever been in. The chair is so wide, I can probably curl up and  sleep in it. I buckle up, and try to ignore the butterflies in my  stomach.

"Something wrong?" Dom asks.

I flush. "Planes … aren't my thing. I'm fine once we reach altitude, but taking off rattles me."

"Don't worry. This pilot is one of the best. It's very safe."

"I know," I say, trying to brush off my anxiety. "It's just a stupid phobia."

Dom takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I hold on tight,  bracing myself. The engines rev up, getting louder as the seconds tick  by.

"You really are scared?" He frowns.

"It's nothing. Ignore me." I gulp.

"Let's see if we can't distract you … " Dom pulls a blanket down and  spreads it across both our laps. I'm confused, until his hand disappears  under the blanket and caresses my thigh. By increments, he slides his  hand higher, pushing up the hem of my skirt in the process.

I swallow hard. "I'll need a lot of distraction."

Dom laughs.

"I didn't mean it like that!" I exclaim, but he just leans over and  envelops my mouth in a firm kiss. I try to relax, but I'm completely  aware of his hand still stroking upwards between my bare thighs. Dom  gently nudges until I move my legs wider apart under the blanket. I  catch my breath, now not sure whether my heart is racing in fear  –  or  desire.

The plane starts to taxi down the runway and I grab his arm, feeling  silly. But Dom's fingers don't stop. They trace from my inner thigh to  the edge of my panties. I let my thighs part a little more, relaxing  –   until the hostess passes us. I tense up.

"All buckled in and set for takeoff?" she asks.

"Ready to go," Dom answers, still tracing up my inner thigh. She moves on, and takes her own seat at the back of the plane.

"Dom … " I shift in my seat, glancing over at her. My body is demanding,  but my brain is screaming abort, abort! "We … could always just talk."

"Not as fun." He makes lazy circles on my skin, and I close my eyes to sink into the sensation. I fight to keep it together.

"I wanted to explain, about Alexander."

"No."

His fingers slip under my panties and rest at the top of my mound. Damn  him. I reach beneath the blanket to grab his wrist, arching into him  just a little.

"But … "

His finger glides over my throbbing clit, then lower, tracing an  invisible line through my wetness, teasing me without mercy. Licks of  delicious heat uncurl in his wake, my legs falling completely open.  Dominic groans low and leans into me, and I shiver as his breath touches  my ear.

"My brother quits things as fast as he starts them. He's insignificant  and a problem, and not worth talking about. Not when I have more  important things to focus on … "

He touches my clit, presses against it until a burst of pleasure goes  through me, and I nearly buck off the seat. My fingers wrap around the  back of his hand as he starts to stroke me with fierce, quick,  relentless touches.

"Oh my God," I breathe before clenching my lips together in an attempt  to stay quiet. The way he's touching me is perfection and the pressure  inside is building fast and intense.         

     



 

"Keep your hand on mine while I make you come." His voice is low,  commanding. "Do you like this? The way I'm touching you?" He kisses the  edge of my ear.

I nod and dig my nails into the back of his hand. He slows his pace,  finding a soft-yet-firm rhythm that quickly carries me away. I turn my  head, silently begging for his kiss. He presses his mouth to mine and  I'm both frustrated and soothed by it.

I want to let loose and I can't.

"You're so hot, baby. So wet. Just for me," he whispers into my panting mouth.

He thrusts two fingers into me, slides back up to rub my clit and then  thrusts again, harder. I dig the fingers of my free hand into the arm  rest as he kisses me again, alternating thrusts and strokes until the  flickers of orgasm threaten to burst.

"I can't wait to fuck you. Hard. Fast. Have you suck me off, your hot mouth on my cock."

It's so good, I can't hold it back. Release slams into me and I hang  onto him, to the seat, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my lips  together to keep from crying out. I hear Dom laugh softly.

He's a delicious bastard.

A dirty talking sex God, and he's going to pay for this.

"I would have loved to hear you scream." He slowly slides his hand from between my legs and I feel drunk and weightless.

"By the way, we took off a few minutes ago."

What? I glance to the window and see clouds. Dang, that worked really  well. I readjust in my seat and move my skirt down. He looks amused as I  kiss his cheek. "You're an excellent distraction." I tell him.



The flight goes quickly, and I barely notice the hours tick by between  dozing off and watching Game of Thrones on Dominic's iPad while he works  from his laptop and takes calls. I lay down to take a nap, but I don't  realize I'm sleeping until Dominic wakes me. "We're here."

Outside, the airport lights shine brightly. We're taxiing across the  tarmac to the arrival gate. Apparently I missed the landing, too.

We disembark, and head through customs before a driver meets us at the  curb. I watch out the limo windows as we head to the hotel.

"I can't believe I'm in Paris." I meant to think it, but I say it out  loud. Dominic leans against me to look out the window, too. He doesn't  say anything, but I feel him smile.

We head through the city, and I'm gawking at the gorgeous old buildings  and chic tree-lined boulevards, a pastel blue sky dotted with  picture-perfect clouds sweeping overhead. Eventually, we turn across a  square and The Rexford Paris comes into view. I swear, my heart jumps  into my throat.

"Holy shit."

Dominic laughs at me. "Wait until you see the inside."

I'm craning my neck to see when my door opens and a man in white gloves  helps me out. The hotel stands, imposing, with a view of the River  Seine. It's gorgeous, classical architecture with arched windows,  massive columns and a carved marble statue at the entrance.

Dominic joins me on the front steps and takes my hand.

"Ready?"

When have I ever been ready for anything with this man? I'm constantly  taken by surprise when I'm with him. I nod and he speaks to the porter  in French-surprise!-before leading me up the steps. I'm about to ask him  if he's fluent, but the words die on my lips.

I can't believe what I'm seeing. The lobby is an airy masterpiece of  French Regency design with gilded molding and cream and light blue  walls. Elaborate rugs create a walkway over a parquet floor, leading to a  formal seating area with deep red loveseats and mahogany chairs.

"Marie Antoinette is going to pop out any minute, isn't she?"

He looks up from his phone and attempts a smile. My attention returns  solely to him. He's been on and off his phone for most of the flight.  Whatever problem brought us here must be big.