17. Natalie #2
The night passed in a blur of champagne, phenomenal food, and laughter.
Little by little I managed to let go and enjoy myself, to the point where I was actually cracking jokes with editorial director at Vogue.
I even met the founder of Snug—Declan Byrne—and his wife, Olivia.
The Irish billionaire was surprisingly down to earth, despite creating the biggest social media platform in the world.
Apparently, he was a friend of James’s and since he and his wife happened to be in town, they’d been invited to the party.
“If this one doesn’t treat you right, you let me know,” he said to me with a teasing grin. “I’ll set him straight.”
“Hey now, I thought we were friends!” James pretended to complain.
“We are—which is why I wouldn’t let you muck this up,” Declan shot back. “You gave me the advice I needed to hear when I was about to let someone amazing walk out of my life,” he added, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple. “The least I can do is return the favor.”
I couldn’t believe how warm and accepting everyone was being, as if I really belonged here. Despite the divide between my basic little life and the important people around me, I felt welcomed. Like I was one of them.
It was the last thing I’d expected.
Of course, being on James Branson’s arm probably helped. Bernie was fashion royalty and James was the heir apparent.
Things got wilder as the sun went down, especially when Bernie and Kathleen joined the younger models for a bunch of line dances, to the delight of everyone. The DJ finally slowed the music down, hoping to get couples on the floor. Beyonce’s XO came on, and I shot James a look.
“Do you dance?”
He cocked his head to listen to the song for a few seconds. “Wait, is this…”
I nodded. “Yup, our favorite artist.”
“It’s not really a slow dance song, is it? It’s sort of in between.”
“I don’t care, we’re dancing,” I said, feeling bold, thanks to the three glasses of champagne I’d downed. A few people at our table clapped when they saw me dragging James out to the dance floor.
He wrapped me in his arms and pretended to glare at me. “Don’t sing, got it?”
“Don’t tempt me.” I laughed as we started to sway. “You still haven’t paid me for that time I didn’t serenade you.”
“Oh, you mean that little eight inches situation?”
“First of all, ‘little’ and ‘eight inches’ don’t belong in the same sentence. And second,” I ground up against him quickly, “I think you actually beat my estimation.”
He rumbled at me and leaned closer to nibble my neck. “You better stop or I’m going to drag you off this dance floor.”
“Is that a promise?” I pushed into him again and felt him stiffen.
The song had quiet moments and big, sweeping interludes, and to my delight, James managed to match his tempo to the flow of the music. He held me close, then when the song shifted to a faster beat, he twirled us dramatically across the floor.
We were perfectly matched as we danced, our bodies glued together and stepping in perfect synch.
Just like when we made love. There was no doubt we were both thinking about the way we moved in bed—or in a car, or a dressing room, or up against the wall.
I let my hand slip down to cup his ass for a second, and he growled and bit the side of my neck.
“So, are we dancing, or can I steal you away?” he asked.
“I like dancing, but there’s something else I like doing with you even more,” I whispered in his ear. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he shivered.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his eyes burning into mine.
I rose up on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I like fucking you.”
The song ended and we peeled apart.
“There’s a pool house around that corner.” He gestured with his head as he trailed his fingertips up and down my arm.
I wanted to tease him a little more. “Is that a fact? And what would we do in that pool house?”
James pulled me close again, his breath hot against my ear.
“Dirty things. Depraved things. I’ll strip you naked and worship your entire body with my tongue.
I’ll make you come half a dozen times before I let my dick get anywhere near you.
I’ll tease you until you’re begging for my cock.
Then I’ll fuck you from behind, because I know you come fast when we do it that way. ”
My entire body felt like it was on fire as he whispered filthy, sweet nothings in my ear. I didn’t realize that he’d been slowly walking me backwards, off the dance floor, through the crowd, and out of the tent until I felt the coolness of the night air brush against my skin.
“This way,” he said, pulling me along.
I was so woozy with desire for him that I practically jogged through the grass despite my ridiculous heels. We kissed as he fumbled with the door of the pool house and didn’t break apart as we awkwardly fell into the room once he’d managed to get it open.
His hands slid up my thighs, raising my dress while I fought to pull the zipper on his pants down.
“No time to take this off,” he said as he brought the dress over my hips. He wrenched my thong down and dropped to his knees in front of me. “Oh my God, you look so hot in those shoes.”
“James,” I managed in a strangled whisper as I kicked my thong away. “We don’t have time for you to—” I swallowed my words as his mouth found my warm seam. I threaded my fingers through his hair as pleasure flooded through me.
He pulled away for a second, letting his thumb work me. “Didn’t you hear what I said I was going to do to you?” he grumbled. “No one is going to miss us, trust me.” He dove back between my legs, his mouth eager to taste me.
I came fast and hard even though he’d barely touched me. The noise from the party covered my cries but I still felt like I needed to shove my knuckles in my mouth to muffle them.
James gave me a devilish look. “There’s one. Five more to go.”
I took a step backwards before he could bring his mouth to me again. James tightened his grip on my butt and tried to pull me closer again.
“No,” I breathed, still riding the waves of my orgasm. “Your turn.”
I unzipped his pants and pulled them along with his briefs down quickly before he could protest, knowing that the second I took him in my mouth he’d be powerless.
I dropped to my knees and wrapped my mouth around his length, pressing my tongue along the underside of his shaft and cupping his balls at the same time.
“Nat…” He trailed off as I started to rhythmically pull him in and out of my mouth.
It wasn’t easy to take the full length of him, so I used my hands along the base of his shaft. I found a rhythm, but broke it every so often to kiss and suck his balls. His groans filled the room, until he stepped away from me quickly.
“You have to stop, I can’t take it. I need to fuck you, now.”
“I thought I was the one who was supposed to beg, Mr. Branson.” I looked up at him from my knees with a devilish expression.
He pulled me up without a word and walked me over to the couch. Then leaned me over the back of it, giving my ass a playful slap.
I heard him ripping open a condom. I glanced back at him over my shoulder, and he gently grasped my shoulders and pulled me towards him.
I arched my back so I could find his lips despite the awkward position.
We kissed feverishly, and I could feel his cock gliding against me, just waiting. The sensation was torture.
“James,” I whispered in a ragged, desperate voice. “Please.”
It was all he needed to hear. James plunged into me, and we both cried out with relief as he rolled his hips against me.
Maybe we weren’t a real couple yet, but this was real. And for now, that was more than enough.