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I frown. “Don’t say that,” I say. “You’re gorgeous, brilliant and talented, sweetheart. You are an artist after all.”
She glances at me, her cheeks reddening further. “I guess I’m okay at Connect Four.”
I grin at her. “Well, you’ll have to show me your skills some time.”
She gives me a shy smile and takes my hand again. “It’s a deal.”
Then, I lead her further down the hallway, flinging open doors to show her my guest rooms until we get to the final door on the right hand side.
“This is the master suite, honey,” I growl. “You’ll put your stuff in here, and live here with me. You do have luggage, don’t you?”
She laughs lightly, taking in the huge king-size bed and dark wood armoire.
“I do, but it’s still downstairs,” she said breathlessly. “The concierge said he’d arrange to have it sent up.”
“Perfect,” I nod, striding over to the en suite. “If you forgot anything, it’s fine. I’ll give you a credit card so that you can buy anything you need. But in the meantime, feel free to enjoy this,” I say, indicating a blonde wood room tucked in back with glass enclosed walls.
Simona’s eyes go wide with delight and surprise.
“A private sauna!” she gasps.
I grin. “Yep, this is my favorite part of the apartment. The spruce is from Norway, and I have a special device that controls both the temperature and steam.” For a moment, I imagine the two of us sitting inside, Simona with only a flimsy towel over her lush curves. Then, I pull away the fabric, revealing her pinkness, and … oh shit. A vision like that is more than enough to get me excited, and I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm down.
“Come on,” I say in a somewhat shaky voice. “I have one more room to show you, sweetheart. But I want you to brace yourself because this isn’t how billionaires usually roll.”
She grins cheekily.
“You mean they don’t usually have private saunas in their apartments?” she teases
I let out an amused laugh.
“No, they do, but this addition is definitely personalized, shall we say.”
The final room is at the end of the corridor. The door looks like all the others, but then I pull a key out of my pocket to unlock the latch and push the wooden slab open. Simona gasps as she peers inside, her eyes going wide.
“What is this?” she breathes. “Oh my God!”
I know what it looks like. Sometimes, I enjoy dabbling in BDSM and I like to have my personal equipment available 24/7, should things turn naughty. As a result, there’s a St. Andrew’s Cross against one wall, as well as a selection of restraints, whips and cuffs laid out on a table by the door. There’s a stockade, as well as a large hook embedded in the ceiling, and a wooden saddle for women who like to ride.
“I guess you can tell that I’m not a prince,” I say in a low voice. “I’m more of a dungeon master.”
She’s still staring with shock at the equipment. But then, the pretty girl turns to me and to my satisfaction, there’s hunger in her eyes.
“You’re a dark prince,” she murmurs. “Of the best kind, James. But you’re right - I wouldn’t have guessed that you had this. It looks like just another guest bedroom from the outside.”
“That’s the point, princess,” I chuckle, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “I wouldn’t want people to know what’s inside, so the room’s camouflaged to blend into the rest of the apartment, and kept locked too.”
A little shiver runs through her body at my touch. “That makes sense,” she whispers. Our eyes meet, and the heat sizzles between us.
“Simona,” I whisper, stepping closer. “I like my women filthy, and I meant it when I said filthy. What we did during our first meeting only skims the surface. I like things rancid and depraved, and I understand if you’re not up for it. Not everyone is, and if this is too much, now’s the time to let me know.”
She bites her lip and looks down for a moment. My heart starts to sink, but then she looks me in the eye and speaks. “I’m not afraid, James. Don’t worry about that. In fact, just the opposite,” she says with a small smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to find someone who’s just as filthy as me.” Then, the beautiful brunette places her hand in mine. “I can’t wait to get started, big boy,” she breathes.
With that, my mind veers off in a million directions as excitement courses through my veins. Shit. This woman really is right for me, and as I pull her against my chest hungrily, a low growl sounds in my throat. This is going to be the most satisfying three months of my life, and now, New York isn’t looking so bad anymore.
