Page 23 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

LORENZO

I do not like the fact she’s going on a date, and I do not like the fact I’ll have to spend the night with another woman. It’s beyond wrong.

We, us , are a good thing, even if we’ve not had sex.

The thing is, there’s a high chance, Storm, and I would not be sexually compatible.

I have very unique needs, and Storm is practically a virgin.

I would ruin her, it would be like the Beauty and the Savage Beast.

Shaking my head to clear it, I pull on the fresh black suit. The black representing my foul mood, the suit because I likely have control, and issues relaxing.

I walk into the living room, perfecting my tie, and I have a whiskey. I wait anxiously, and I start to pace.

I do not usually pace, but Storm, and some random guy. No F-ing way!

Maybe I should have her random busted up outside the restaurant, just before he enters.

Then, Storm and I could have dinner together.

I can easily intercept my date and tell her its off. She is after all, just some model I took back in the day.

I sigh and tell myself to stop being a moron. I am still pacing, when I hear high heel shoes on my marble floor. Turning, my tense jaw drops. “Jesus.”

“Do I look okay?”

Storm looks sensational, and I turn to the window behind her. I then decide to lie. “The weather will get cold tonight. Maybe you should cover up.”

Storm is wearing a stunning black dress, and a cute black cloak. She is wearing high heels, and a black choker is around her neck.

She also has smoky eye makeup, and she is drop dead gorgeous.

“I’ll be fine.”

Storm looks like she should be on the cover of a fashion magazine, and she gives me a cold look. She is nothing like the small-town girl, I first met. She is confident, striking, and chic.

“Would you like to travel together,” I ask huskily.

I cannot believe it. I’ve just asked a woman out, and I feel nervous. As if I’m asking a girl on a date, aged sixteen. It is official. I am losing my shit.

No, I lost my shit with her at the party in Napa. Surrounded by friends, vineyards, roses and statues.

I’ve asked top models, and heiress’ out for a decade. Even two European princesses, but now I am this?

Storm walks up to me, and she takes my whiskey from me. She steps closer, and she drinks it down in one. “My God, that’s good.” As she smiles, she says, “let’s have a stiff one.”

After pouring two whiskies, we look down at the city. It’s as if tonight, everything will change.

I watch her in the reflection, and I say nothing. Storm walks closer, and she stands in front of me. She adjusts my hair and tie, then steps back. “Better.”

I want to thumb her lower lip, and I want to drive my tongue inside her mouth again. I, however, inhale long, and slow. “What does he do?” I ask, before stopping myself.

“I don’t know. Actually hang on, something to do with media.”

“He sounds like a dick,” I say and yes…

Kill me now.

“Well, look at you,” Storm says with a raised brow. I growl which is something I try not to do. “So, how about your harlot? Are you going to screw this one?”

“I don’t know,” I say, “It depends.”

I should have said, No!

Storm looks unimpressed, and she drinks her whiskey. “Is she easy, like the rest?”

“I can’t remember,” I say. “Likely.”

“Right, but what does she do?” It’s a fair question, and it’s time to be honest.

“Modelling. I think.”

“What, you don’t know? In fact, what do you know about her?”Storm watches me close, then she pulls my tie weirdly aside, making it crooked.

“Hey!” I yell. “And what about that dipshit you’re going out with?”

Storm raises a sassy brow. “Hot, and he works out a lot.”

I shake my head and grin. This is so messed up, but it is far from boring.

“I may even get laid,” she says out of the blue. I don’t like that. Not one bit. I need to make sure no one gets in her panties. Even warm panties I’ve held in my hands! I remember something, and it worries me. It’s time for containment.

“Okay, it’s time to discuss new house rules. You can’t go on a date unless you’re wearing panties.”

“Who says so?” Storm asks eyes big, and pissed.

“I say so,” I say lifting my chin.

“And who are you, the King?”

I step forwards slowly, and I am now inches away. “Yes, I’m the fucking panties King!”

The sassy vixen laughs in my face.

“Well, you’re going to have to check for yourself, then. Please… Go right ahead!” she says throwing her chin up and placing her hands on her hips.

It is one hell of a challenge. I’ll give her that.

I walk around Storm, and she watches me close. I remember the swords on my wall, and my fine collection.

I have world-class swords and sabers from around the world, and some are worth hundreds of thousands. I walk to the stone wall they are all mounted to, and I look up. I’m proud of my sword collection, and it is rated as one of the world’s best.

Finally, I select one, and I reach up.

It is a fine silver sword, from the Napoleonic period. This one cost me half a million in an Parisian auction.

After cutting and slashing the air several times, I pause. I reach for fine black leather racing gloves I used in Europe, and I put one on. I’d worn the gloves while racing my Aston Martin in France, coming second in a disgraceful act of failure.

As I walk around Storm, in my black suit, I make my command. “Remove your cloak.”

Storm says nothing as she removes her cloak, and tosses it onto a chair. It is now just her in heels, the cute black dress, and the choker around her neck.

Storm holds her ground, and she looks hot in her black satin dress. Too hot!

I study the outline of her butt, and breasts. Also her nipples, that are becoming more visible and obvious. Her eyes are on me, and her energy is cold. Her eyes laser-like.

Storm knocks back her whiskey, and she lifts that sexy chin and those sinful lips. “Want me to spread them?”

“Do you really need to ask?” I say raising the sword.

Storm swivels one foot in her high heels, and now her legs are apart another foot. “Enough?” she asks. She is now biting her lip, she is doing it without realizing it.

God help me.

I’m already hard, and these games with her, are getting way out of hand. We are getting way out of hand. Even if I like it, I’m somewhere between heaven and hell.

I walk around the playful vixen like a school teacher, and I examine every inch of her. Finally, I pause slightly behind her tight butt, and I lift her black dress with my long silver blade. I pause for drama, and I lift the fabric higher and higher, exposing her thigh.

I can now see her entire leg, from her toes, right up to just below her butt. A butt I want to be inside.

As I pause, I watch her chest rise and fall. My hard cock grows another two inches, unseen.

I lift the cold sharp steel, and the tip runs up her butt. I reveal her perfect tight butt, and I groan inside.

She is still looking ahead and over NYC through the one-way glass. I can see her breathing is heavy, and labored. I lift the dress further, and I can see she is wearing a fine black thong.

A gorgeous black lacy thong.

“Get your thrill?”

I clear my throat, I don’t like it. “Not acceptable.”

“What kind of panties would you have me wear… Sir?”

I am slow in replying, because it’s hard. “The boring sensible type,” I say. “The white cotton ones.” I walk around her, and our faces are now inches apart. Storm lifts her chin defiantly, and I can see her nipples pebbling more.

“You don’t want the panties you held while they were still warm? And fresh off me?”

Screw her!

How can she, of all people, know how to push all my buttons?

Before I can reply, she swats away the sword blade, and she struts quickly. My God she is really going to do it. A minute later she walks back, and she stops in front of me.

She offers the soft white cotton panty type to my sword hand, and I take them in the leather glove. I rub the tips of my fingers on them, and they are soft. Almost as soft, as I imagine the inside of her.

She puts a hand on my shoulder to not fall, and she, and her lips are a single inch from my face. She pulls the black thong down, from between her legs, and she hands it to me.

I use the sword blade to accept the thong, and I keep the black panties on the tip of the blade.

Storm plucks the plain white knickers from my gloved hand.

She turns them around, taking her time, and she lines them up, while staring me out. The tease then pulls the white cotton panties on, and she slides them up and over her tight unused pussy and butt.

My heart pounds, and I have stopped breathing.

As she leans towards my face, she quickly closes my mouth, with two fingers.

What the hell!

“You did not just do that!”

“So, did,” she says. “And you, Sir, are losing your shit.”

“Screw you,” I say as she takes my whiskey, from a wooden stand, next to us. She downs it before strutting for the elevator.

“Fuck,” I huff with the sword, the thong, the leather glove, and now the aching erection. She has played me.

The elevator doors opens in the distance, and Storm enters with her cloak.

As I pull off my leather glove, Storm calls out the elevator door. “You coming?” I walk towards her, my radar on. As she waits in the elevator, we stare each other out.

Before I enter, I flick her hot black thong up with the sword. While the thong is in mid-air, I slash fast with the ancient blade.

The silver cuts through the air with a hiss before slicing the panties in two.

I catch one piece, and I slip it into my jacket’s top pocket. I throw the ancient sword carefully, and I do it with precision. It hits the antique Balinese doors across the penthouse perfectly, and it sticks in.

The tease raises a brow, and I walk past her into my elevator.

As I lean against the back wall, I adjust the black thong in my jacket pocket. Finally, it looks like some fancy handkerchief.

Storm hits the ground button, and she looks at me with her arms covering her chest, and nipples. “What?” I ask regaining some respect.

I’m close to snapping and losing all control. Storm needs to be fucked senseless. I know it.

And she knows it.