We flew to Paris in absolute luxury: on a private jet that Nate actually owned. We napped, cuddled, watched movies, sipped champagne and fed each other juicy, bright red strawberries in a cabin so spacious a hundred people could have sprawled out in it easily. But we had it all to ourselves. Plush, velvety white carpeting made moving around in the jet feel like walking around in the puffy clouds just beyond the windows. All the chairs, couches, and even a fold out recliner for two that was more like a bed were all upholstered in buttery-soft, cream-colored leather. An enormous plasma screen TV covered nearly half the space at the head of the cabin. We had a button to push if we needed anything from two flight attendants who occupied a small room near the cockpit.
I was officially in a dream.
After finishing our second movie, Nate and I switched to a different activity and began kissing, our hands soon roaming freely beneath the plush white blanket covering us. Within a few minutes of caressing each other in the dim light of the cabin, which had been darkened for our movies, I began to feel almost impossibly achy, excited and wet. It never took much for me to feel that way with Nate. He slid a hand down the front of my top and bra and began lightly stroking one of my nipples with a fingertip, the sensation making the sensitive pearl at the center of my femininity throb. I broke the kiss and tipped my head back, unable to hold back a whimper of desire. Almost as if he'd been given a signal of some sort, Nate put a hand up my skirt and down my panties. Then, with one quick motion, he parted my slick feminine folds with two fingers and slid them deep inside of me. I gasped at the fairly sudden, though intensely pleasurable, intrusion. I'd told him before that this was something I liked, loved actually, to be filled with his fingers in one swift movement.
Squirming against them, I whispered, not exactly sure what the flight attendants could hear from their room at the front of the jet. Although it was pretty far away, and had a door that was shut, I didn't want to take any chances.
"Wait. We can't, Nate. The attendants might be able to hear us if we get too loud. Or, they might even come out here at the wrong time."
He moved his mouth to my ear and spoke, his voice low and husky. "Let's make a visit to the bathroom, then."
I'd forgotten about the bathroom. It was actually more like a small luxury apartment. Two private, enclosed toilets stood against one wall, with a long, ivory marble sink, the fixtures all gold, along the other wall. A low footstool, only several inches high and upholstered in white, stood nearby it, maybe just for decoration, or maybe if any guests were ever not tall enough to look into a gilded oval mirror that hung above the sink, I figured. A shower stall about as big as my bathroom at home stood in one corner, a stack of neatly folded fluffy white towels piled on one of several marble shelves beside it. Lights in gold sconces had three settings: dim, medium and bright.
Nate shut and the bathroom door while I flicked the lights on dim. After a quick look around, my desire for him almost unbearable, I slid off my panties, kicked them away, and looked at him.
"Take me over the sink, please. I'll stand on that little footstool beside it to make our heights work."
Needing no further invitation, he pulled the footstool over, helped me onto it, then bent me over the counter top by the sink with a low growl. I propped my elbows up on the cool marble, relishing the intensely naughty feeling of being presented to him like this. Anticipating the moment when he would lift my skirt and see my most private areas, naked, slick and swollen, just waiting to be filled by his stiffened rod.
I didn't have to wait long. With his breathing fast and ragged, he lifted my skirt and immediately began caressing the rounded globes of my full rear. His touch was firm and fast, maybe a little rough even, which turned me on even more than I already was, which I would have thought impossible.
Soon, he removed his hands, and I heard him unbuckle his belt, followed by the quiet, almost imperceptible, sound of his jeans and underwear being pulled down his legs. He didn't even take them of fully before positioning himself at my entrance and sliding in with one long, powerful thrust, groaning. I cried out at the sensation of being completely and totally filled, and by such a hard shaft, well beyond caring who could possibly hear me or what they might think. I cried out again when, without pulling out at all, he gripped my hips and ground himself inside me, giving me every last centimeter of his length.
He only gave me a few moments to get used to his size and hardness before he began thrusting, hard and fast, which was more than fine with me. I wasn't really in the mood for the slower, gentler style of lovemaking we sometimes enjoyed. I was in the mood for hard, fast, commanding thrusts, exactly how he was doing.
We didn't last long. Maybe only two minutes. I reached down and stroked my throbbing feminine bud, sending me into shuddering waves of climax within seconds while Nate drove his rod deeper and deeper inside of me, grunting his own release.
Afterward, we both leaned over the sink in a loose embrace, panting. Presently, when we'd both caught our breath, we made ourselves presentable, got pajamas from our bags in the cabin, showered together and dressed for bed. We soon fell asleep in the bed-recliner, wrapped in each other's arms, the waves of the Atlantic far below us.
I slept like the dead. When I awoke, bright light was streaming in through the cabin windows.
Nate brushed my mouth with a feather-light kiss. "Good morning, gorgeous. We'll be arriving in Paris in about an hour."
Suddenly awake, I was barely able to contain my excitement. I washed up, dressed and sipped a cup of coffee while bouncing my foot. I couldn't help it. I'd soon be stepping down the jet stairs and onto French soil with a man who made me happier than I ever imagined I could possibly be.
A short while later, after that blissful moment happened, Nate and I climbed into the back of a glossy black limousine that would take us to check in at our luxury hotel, which would have a view of the Eiffel Tower.
He squeezed my hand, grinning. "Are you ready for an adventure?"
I smiled, trembling with excitement. "Yes, are you?"
"Yes. And there's no one I'd rather share the adventure with than you."
I'd known our hotel suite would be luxurious but nothing had fully prepared me for the moment when one of two impeccably dressed porters attending us opened the door to our rooms and ushered us inside. I tried not to gawk like some sort of rube.
A spacious foyer opened into an even more spacious living room area decorated in shades of navy blue, cream and gold. An enormous crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, sparkling in the morning sun. On one side of the room, French doors draped in sheer, gauzy white curtains were partially open and I walked over to see what was beyond them. After opening them, with Nate nearby, watching me with a smile on his face, I gasped.
"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh."
Beyond the doors was an ornately carved marble balcony of the purest white. I stepped out onto it, my gaze locked onto the Eiffel Tower in the distance. I'd caught a few glimpses of it from the limousine but this particular view was breathtaking. Puffy white clouds in a sea of robin's egg blue crowned the tower, which loomed larger than I'd ever imagined it to be from seeing it in pictures. It seemed to be no more than a stone's throw away.
"It's just so beautiful."
Nate came up behind me and wrapped me in his strong arms. "We can go up to the top tonight if you'd like. Then, it will be sparkling and glowing. Like you."
Soon, we unpacked our clothes in our magnificent bedroom suite hastily, wanting to go out and see the city.
We spent all day exploring, part of the time walking from sight to sight, and part of the time riding in the chauffeured limousine. After a picnic lunch in a grassy area near the banks of the Seine, we spent several hours strolling through the Louvre, hand in hand. When we came to the Mona Lisa, I froze and stared, in complete disbelief I was actually seeing it up close and in person. It struck me as so gorgeous I made Nate promise me that we could come back to see it once again before the end of our time in Paris.
He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, a smile lifting the edges of his mouth. "This is your birthday trip. We can do whatever you'd like to do. We can come back and see it however many times you like."
Several times during our visit to the museum, I caught attractive women casting admiring glances at him. Each time, I squeezed his hand possessively, feeling lucky to have a man other women so obviously wanted. And they didn't even know he was a billionaire.
Late in the afternoon, after a leisurely stroll down the Champs-Elysees, the air warm and fresh-scented from several lines of trees with jewel-green leaves, I glanced over at him. "Well, I can now say it's absolutely true. Paris is, without a doubt, the loveliest city in the world in the springtime."
He struggled to keep a straight face. "You sure? Not Cleveland? Indianapolis?"
I shook my head, smiling. "Nope. It's Paris. By miles."
That evening, we had dinner at a restaurant right in the heart of Paris and enjoyed filet mignon so tender and buttery, it could have been cut with a fork. Nate, who spoke a little French, ordered creme brulee for us for dessert. It was one of the best meals I'd ever had in my life, if not the best. I told him I'd never forget it as long as I lived and I knew I never would. Particularly the part of the meal when he'd reached across the table, lifted my hand, and kissed it while a group of people sitting nearby smiled.
That night, while we stood embracing on top of the Eiffel Tower, the city light twinkling below us like a million fireflies, I became nearly overcome by a rush of emotion and suddenly looked at Nate.
"I'm in love with you, you know. I love you."
The second the words were out of my mouth, I wondered if I'd made a mistake by saying them, if it had been way too soon. But to my extreme relief, he said I love you back, and immediately, without even skipping a beat.
He pulled me to him even closer and gave me a long, lingering kiss, then moved his mouth to my ear and spoke in a low voice. "I'm more in love with you than I ever thought it was possible to be, gorgeous Justine."
We soon left the tower, after making plans to return in a few days, took the limousine back to our luxury suite, and then made love until it was almost dawn. But instead of going to sleep, we ordered breakfast from room service and ate it out on the balcony while the sun rose, coloring the Eiffel Tower in brilliant shades of pink and gold. We eventually did sleep after our meal, not waking until one in the afternoon.
*
The next several days passed in a whirlwind of sightseeing, picnicking and shopping. Nate insisted we visit several upscale boutiques so he could buy me a few outfits by French designers. Or, at least, "a few" was what I assumed he meant when he suggested we do some shopping. But he ended up buying me dozens of outfits, as well as multiple pairs of shoes so expensive I almost thought I might be afraid to wear them. He insisted on buying me every single item I tried on and liked.
After maybe our third shopping excursion, while the limousine driver loaded all my shopping bags in the trunk, I turned to Nate and wrapped my arms around him. "Thank you for all my birthday gifts. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
He kissed the top of my head then pulled away to look at me, his dark brows lifting in mock surprise. "You thought those were all your birthday gifts? Now, what kind of a loving boyfriend would I be if all the gifts ended here? What kind of a loving boyfriend would I be if I didn't have a few special surprises for you to open tomorrow, on your actual birthday? No, all your shopping presents have just been warm-up gifts."
I didn't even know how to respond, other than to tell him he was spoiling me too much, which he said was impossible.
"A gorgeous princess like you can never be spoiled too much."
I knew all the clothes he'd bought me had cost tens of thousands of dollars. I couldn't even imagine what gifts he was planning to give me the next day.
*
The morning of my birthday dawned clear and sunny. Nate brought me room service breakfast in bed. When I'd finished eating, he presented me with a small box wrapped in gold paper.
"Your first gift of the day."
I unwrapped it, smiling, stunned when I saw a small silver box printed with my name in gold, right above a name I recognized as one of the most famous and sought-after perfumers in not only all of Paris but the entire world.
Nate grinned. "I had him blend a custom scent, just for you. It's called Justine. It has top notes of jasmine, citrus, and rose because you said those were your favorites."
Emotion swelling in my chest, I looked from the silver box to Nate. "It's too much —“
"Nothing's too much when it comes to spoiling you on your birthday." He brushed a tender kiss against my cheek, smiling. "Nothing. Now, go ahead and take the bottle out. Try some on."
I did, spritzing some of the perfume from a crystal bottle onto my wrist. It smelled like paradise, absolutely heavenly.
*
That evening, after a day spent touring the Palace of Versailles, Nate cooked dinner for us in the kitchen of our luxury suite. He wouldn't even let me help, saying the birthday girl shouldn't have to lift a finger. He turned out to be a surprisingly good cook and served us pasta with herb marinated chicken tenderloins, one of my favorite meals. He even baked me a vanilla spice birthday cake with cream cheese frosting, also my favorite. Though the top was lopsided and he'd over baked the cake just slightly, it was delicious. I found the lopsided top absolutely charming. What mattered most to me was that he'd spent hours in the kitchen, preparing food just for my special day with his own hands.
After dinner, we enjoyed a romantic moonlit stroll along the Seine, then he surprised me by saying he'd rented a ferry so we could take a nighttime cruise up the river.
"Once we're aboard, I'll give you your final birthday gift." His deep blue eyes twinkled in silvery light from the full moon. "I think you're really going to like it."
That turned out to be the understatement of the century.
A while later, while we stood on the deck of the ferry, gentle waves lapping against the sides of the boat as we glided through the water, he presented me with a square, velvet box. Inside was a glittering necklace made of hundreds of white diamonds, each of them several carats each. I couldn't even breathe for a few moments. It was indescribably gorgeous. I knew it had to have cost at least a hundred thousand dollars, maybe even several hundred thousand dollars. I couldn't speak, my throat choked with emotion.
Nate smiled. "Do you like it?"
I could only nod, tears welling it my eyes.
His smile became even wider. "Here, let's put it on." He took it out of the box and fastened it around my neck while tears overflowed my eyes and streamed down my face. When he turned me around to face him and see how it looked, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his broad chest.
"I love it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you. You've given me a birthday like a fantasy."
He kissed the top of my head. "Exactly what I wanted to do."
Several days later, when it was time to return home, I nearly cried again, but definitely not from joy this time. But Nate promised me we had many, many more trips in our future, and he made good on that promise not even two weeks after we'd returned home. One weekend in May, he whisked us off to Hawaii for two days just because it was supposed to rain continuously in New York City until Monday.
Over the next two months, we took several more trips, growing closer and closer. I loved Nate more than I'd ever loved anyone before in my life, by far. Each day I spent with him, that love grew even stronger. He told me often that he felt the same way. Everything was perfect. It turned out, too perfect not to have something go wrong.