The Billionaire's Heart - Page 8

Ivan’s kind eyes were full of compassion. “What happened to your parents?”


“They were executed as enemies of the state when I was a little girl. They were Communists.”


Samira swallowed down her emotion. She didn’t dare continue to talk about this at the moment. She knew she needed to, and Ivan seemed keen to hear it, but sometimes the pain overwhelmed her so much that she thought she’d be torn apart. She stifled her sadness and chuckled wearily. “And you know what happened to the boy? The one whose mother had me arrested?”


He shook his head, obviously expecting to hear something terrible.


“A round of cheers from his friends.”


“Oh…”


“Yeah. It’s the double standards I hate more than anything. This is why I love American equality. I’m a human being, just the same as any man. It’s my business what I do with my body, not the government’s.”


“I agree. I don’t understand this obsession with men not wanting women to enjoy their own bodies. I mean, why the hell would God give you a cl**it and a G-spot if he didn’t want you to enjoy it?”


Samira blushed at the thought of Ivan fondling her cl**it and G-spot. She hoped she’d be lucky enough to experience his expertise at some point over the next couple of weeks.


He gazed at her like a big brother. “Hey, you want me to take a look at your shower?”


“Alright, thanks.” She raised a playful eyebrow. “But only because I hurt my knee. Otherwise I’d do it myself.”


He smirked. “I know. You’re an independent woman and can do things for yourself. But sometimes, isn’t it nice to have a helping hand? Huh?”


Samira knew exactly what he meant by that – and it wasn’t about fixing her shower – so she stood on shaking legs and sashayed back to her bedroom, feeling him follow up the stairs. She knew he could see her as**s under her nightdress, and she was tempted to lift it up and give him a proper look, but instead she showed him through to the bathroom, trying to remain neutral and disinterested in his amazing body. He halted as he caught sight of her vibrator, but they both pretended to ignore it.


“Let’s have a look, then,” he said, leaning over the bathtub. “Oh yeah, it is stiff, isn’t it?”


Samira chuckled. “If you say so.”


He laughed too. “I should be able to turn her on, though.”


Samira grinned. She watched the muscles in his shoulders flex and bulge as he tried to twist the dial. Sexual innuendoes aside, he seemed keen to as**sist. She listened to him straining against the faucet for a moment, then he turned and smiled into her eyes.


“Should be fine now; you wanna give it a try?”


She stepped over to stand next to him, feeling the magnetic force swirl and buckle between them. As she shot him a flirty glance, she leaned across the bathtub, enjoying the feel of her silky nightdress rising around her as**s. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and she saw Ivan swipe a glance in the mirror behind them, to get the full effect. As Ivan turned back to face her, she sensed his eyes all over her, turning her on with hot arousal. She twisted the shower dial easily and water shot out, soaking them both and making Samira screech in shock.


They laughed and ducked out the way.


“It works, huh?” Ivan said, brushing the water off of his toned chest.


Samira glanced down at her nightdress, which was now sheer against her bre**asts, stuck to them with the damp, and emphasising their fullness. “I’m wet,” she said.


He inspected her. “Oh yeah. You’d better take that off, then. Maybe we can give those di**ckheads who were so worried about you kissing a guy something to really get riled about.”


Samira’s arousal caught in her throat. “I’d love to.”


He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. His touch was electric – jolting lust straight between her legs. “Give yourself over to me, Samira. Body and soul. And I promise I’ll do the same. Just for tonight. We can give each other the intimate connection that we’ve held back from everyone else; a piece of our souls. What do you say?”


She smiled and nodded so he stepped forward and wrapped her up in his arms. He gazed down into her eyes – as if he was touching her soul – then he lowered his face and kissed her tenderly once, making Samira gasp with longing. Her heart was pounding fast now – he was totally in control, and she was happy to let him lead her all the way to total pleasure. Without breaking eye contact, he ran his fingers through her long hair and balled it tight in his fist, holding her head in place.


“I want you, Samira,” he said. “Let me do this for you.”


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Tags: Julie Farrell Billionaire Romance
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