The Billionaire From Philly

Chapter11

Danielle felt a little on edge as she and Victor stepped into his apartment together, but she pushed the anxiety out of her mind. She had seen someone at Punch Line—one of Sam’s friends, someone she knew was in the Bey family—but, Danielle reminded herself, she didn’t know that he had seen her.

She and Victor had been tucked away at a table, with drinks and snacks; they weren’t readily visible during the show, and they’d left before everyone had gone out of the club, so there was a good chance that Trevor hadn’t seen her—and even if he had, she reminded herself, it wasn’t as though he’d necessarily know that Victor had any ties to the Sokolov family.

“Now, for the surprise,” Victor said, as soon as they’d both taken their shoes off in the entryway. Danielle smiled indulgently, knowing that there was sure to be more to “dessert” than just ice cream and toppings. Even with—maybe especially because of—the distraction of almost being “found out,” she was more turned on than ever, interested in nothing more than savoring the rest of her night with Victor.

He led her towards the kitchen, and Danielle felt her heart beating a little bit faster as he went to the freezer, and began taking containers out: vanilla, chocolate, salted caramel, and dark cherry ice creams. He already had a few other things on the counter, Danielle noticed: caramel sauce that she was pretty sure was several steps above the usual ice cream shop quality, fudge sauce made with Callebaut chocolate, true maraschino cherries soaking in liqueur. Victor turned to the fridge and began taking a few things out of there, too, including the whipped cream he had mentioned before.

“So, the surprise is that this is easily $50 worth of ice cream and toppings?” Danielle gave Victor a playful grin.

“Actually, the surprise is that I haven’t got any bowls to put this in,” Victor said, closing the fridge door. He gave her a slow grin. Danielle looked at him for a moment in confusion, before the meaning began to form in her mind. She felt her cheeks warm up, felt the answering heat down between her hips.

“It seems like kind of a waste to spend so much money on dessert and not have anything to serve it in,” Danielle said, keeping her voice light and playful. Victor chuckled.

“Well, see, I had this idea,” he said, moving closer to her. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and his hands slid down from her waist to her hips, pressing her body against his. “I thought that we could be each other’s ice cream bowl.”

“That is ingenious,” Danielle said, her skin already beginning to tingle at the idea. “But who gets to go first?”

“It’s your celebration,” Victor pointed out. “I’m pretty sure that means that you should go first.” He grinned at her more broadly. “Or rather, I should go first—in a way.” Danielle saw the tip of his tongue dart out over his lips, and saw his gaze move over her body.

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“I cleared off the dining room table—I just need to heat up the fudge sauce and the caramel.” Danielle grinned back at him and felt her heart beating still faster in her chest, heat flowing through her veins. She wasn’t entirely sure that she couldn’t heat up the fudge and caramel with her own body, she felt so hot.

“I’ll wait for you there, then,” she told him playfully. Danielle left his side and went into the dining room, attached to the kitchen—separated from it by only a door. She saw that he was true to his word: the table was completely cleared off, not even the usual place settings or vases or anything else there. She smiled to herself, understanding just what Victor had in mind, and reached around to her back to find the zipper on her dress.

She tugged it down, thankful that she was alone to manage the awkwardness when it reached a spot where it wasn’t quite so easy to reach. It had been every bit as awkward that evening, getting the dress on, and Danielle had counted on Victor taking the dress off of her that night. But this was almost as good.

“Careful heating up the caramel and fudge,” she called out, slipping the dress down along her body. She stripped down until she was fully naked, and looked at the table once more, thinking about the best way to get on top of it and also what position she should be in, once Victor came into the room.

“There should be a blindfold in there,” Victor called back. “I’d appreciate it if you put it on.” Danielle raised an eyebrow at that, but the knowledge did send an electric jolt of anticipation through her.

She found the blindfold—a dark, opaque scarf—draped over the back of one of the chairs, and plucked it free, pulling the chair around so that she could use it to climb onto the table. Danielle thought for another moment and then positioned herself on her back, the scarf tied over her eyes to block out all light. She draped her legs over the edge of the table, and crossed her arms over her head, leaving her breasts, her belly, and her hips and pussy fully available.

“Very nice,” Victor murmured when he came in, and Danielle breathed in the smell of fudge and caramel, and the slightly less potent sweetness from other toppings he’d brought with him. She felt herself trembling slightly, almost wanting to take the blindfold off, but interested to see how things would proceed. “You’ve left me plenty of room to make the best possible sundae on you—thank you for that,” he told her. Danielle giggled.

“I had better get a treat out of this, or it doesn’t seem like all that much of a celebration for me,” Danielle told him tartly.

“Oh, believe me—you’re getting a treat from this too,” Victor confirmed. Danielle heard the clicks and clatter of him setting things down, positioning things, and her curiosity once more almost got the better of her. She almost couldn’t stand not knowing what Victor was doing, what he’d brought with him and what might come next. “Make sure to stay very still, Danielle,” Victor told her.

“Then don’t startle me too much,” Danielle countered playfully. She heard movements but couldn’t make out what was happening by the sounds; and then, just when her curiosity had reached a peak, Danielle felt the soft, cold, slightly yielding contact of something—her brain told her after an instant that it had to be ice cream—sliding against her belly, just above her hips. She made a noise, somewhere in between a gasp and a yelp, but managed to remain still, the muscles underneath her skin trembling from cold and tension in equal measure.

The second, slightly sliding drop of cold against her abdomen was not as much of a shock, and by the time she felt the third one it was almost normal in a strange way. Danielle shivered as the cold from the ice cream sank into her skin and hoped that Victor would leave his sundae at three scoops.

She had only just gotten used to the cold of the ice cream when she felt something hot—not burning, but hot enough to make her jump, slightly—come into contact with her skin as well. Thicker than water, but drizzling against her abdomen all the same, she thought it was the caramel instead of the fudge.

Danielle lay still with difficulty as Victor quickly dressed his sundae, adding more toppings that she couldn’t identify but which felt thrilling against her skin nonetheless, slippery and sticky all at the same time.

She could feel the ice cream melting, and Victor must have realized it too—almost as soon as Danielle began to worry about becoming a sticky mess, she felt Victor’s hot breath against her hip, and then felt his hands holding her in place, forestalling her reaction to the ticklish sensation of him licking and sucking his dessert off of her abdomen.

She shook under his hands, moaning as Victor grew more aggressive, his tongue making contact with her skin every few moments, his mouth chasing the melting ice cream and sauces downward towards her already-wet pussy.

She squirmed as Victor worked downward, nibbling a little bit as he licked and sucked and kissed, seemingly determined to devour her along with the ice cream. He moved and shifted, pulling her legs wider, and then—just when Danielle couldn’t stand the suspense anymore—he buried his face against her pussy, nuzzling against her vulva with his still-cold lips.

Danielle moaned out as Victor sucked and licked, sliding his tongue along the seam of her labia, barely missing her clitoris. She writhed underneath and around him, pushing her hips down to get better contact as Victor worshipped her with his mouth, attacking her soaking wet pussy with his lips and tongue just as hungrily as he’d attacked the ice cream moments before.

Danielle reached down blindly, groping until her fingers found the thick, soft hair on top of Victor’s head and tangled in it. She gave herself up to the sensations, twisting her hips and squirming as Victor’s tongue and lips increased the tension deep down further than the pit of her stomach.