Rough Sex Billionaire

Selena.

It was another restless night for me, tossing and turning in my bed, struggling to shake off the deep sleep that had overtaken me. But try as I might, I just couldn't seem to muster the energy to get up. Not that I had partied hard the night before or anything—on the contrary, I was rather enjoying the single life these days. There was a certain freedom and sense of relaxation that came with not having a boyfriend to worry about. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, and that was a refreshing change.

Just as I was starting to doze off again, the persistent ringing of the doorbell jolted me awake. "Ugh, who on earth could that be at this hour?" I grumbled to myself as I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. A glance at the clock confirmed my suspicions—it was only 5 AM. "Wait, 5 AM? At least whoever is at the door has saved me the trouble of oversleeping and missing my flight," I muttered, feeling a mix of irritation and gratitude.

I stretched my arms and hurried to open the door, only to be greeted by the one person I had been hoping to avoid. "Steven?! What the hell are you doing here?" I frowned, irritation seeping into my voice. Honestly, I should probably call the police on this guy—he was starting to border on full-blown stalker territory. I just couldn't understand what was going through his head. I had told him a million times that I was no longer interested and had no romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

"Good morning, baby. I've missed you so much," Steven whispered in a low, husky tone, his eyes roaming shamelessly over my body. I desperately wanted to tear his eyes out to stop him from ogling me like that. I hated him so much.

I quickly covered myself up with my hand and tried to slam the door shut, but Steven shoved his way inside. "Go away, Steven! There's nothing between us anymore. I'm not your 'baby', so stop bothering me," I huffed, trying in vain to push him out, but he only pulled me into his chest and leaned in to kiss me.

"But I never broke up with you. I do love you. I miss your body," he insisted, holding me tightly, as if he thought that would somehow change my mind.

I glared at him, struggling to free my hand from his grip. "Steven, stop this! I never said I was in love with you. That was just a failed relationship, and you know that." I pointed a finger at him, demanding that he leave, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger and despair.

He smirked confidently, his gaze focused on my backside. "Whatever, and I'll never give up. You're mine," he said, practically drooling over me. I had no idea why I had forgiven him so many times before—I guess I was just bored and hated feeling lonely.

I summoned every ounce of strength I had and pushed hard against his chest, yelling in his face. "Stop that! Even so, you can't force me, and you know that being the son of an ambassador won't give you any more power than me. I'm not a weak woman, and my connections could kick you out of this country forever. Don't you dare talk to me like this or threaten me again!" I shouted, shoving him out and slamming the door.

He yelled through the closed door, "Yes, but I'll do my best to make you mine again, and don't forget that sleeping with me is a sin in your country. Don't forget that!" His disgusting threat made me sick to my stomach.

I opened the door again and gave him a look of pure disgust. "Listen, don't you ever try to blackmail me, because no one can do that! Before you say any more crap, I'll cut your fucking tongue!" I warned him in a threatening tone, then shut the door and locked it, ignoring his mumbling.

'Ugh, I just don't understand why he keeps stalking me like this. I gave him a chance, and he betrayed me! How can he come back and act like some kind of loving victim?' I hated this country and everything about it. Now I needed to pack and leave for the airport immediately. I needed a break—three months away could give me a fresh start. 'Love, life, money, and business—I've lost everything.'

I rushed to my room, grabbed my bags and passport, and took out the photo of my best friend Pamela. 'Pamela, I wish you were still here. I miss you so much; you were the big sister who always gave me advice. If only I'd listened to you, I wouldn't have lost everything. Let's hope I don't lose my dignity too. Thank God no one knows about my bankruptcy.'

I kissed Pamela's picture and put it back in my wallet. She had been my rock through it all. 'Now I only have $10,000 left. Ugh, fake friends, my terrible relatives, drinking every night, and all the guys I dated—no one stood by me except Pamela. I need to start over, find a job in another country, and then come back to take revenge on everyone who hurt me.'

I took a quick shower and put on a casual pink dress, trying to shake off the horrible encounter. I used to live life the way I wanted, wasting years on useless things and losing millions. The crazy part is that I wasn't even that superficial. Maybe I just couldn't belong in this country. I've never felt like I truly fit in here, like an outsider looking in. Or maybe I just never found the true love I was searching for.

Finally, I was ready and called the limo waiting for me. I rushed to the airport and boarded the flight to Italy, ignoring all of Steven's calls and texts. I wasn't in the mood to dwell on my miserable past or think about any of my exes.

'Thank God I still have these business class tickets.' I sighed in relief, smirking to myself. Or in other words, I was blaming myself for destroying my life and losing all my money. The word 'poor' doesn't even begin to describe what I've done to myself.

I settled into my seat and tried to get some rest, but I was soon jolted awake by the sound of loud voices nearby. I opened my eyes to see a group of businessmen talking animatedly. In my typical rude, arrogant fashion, I snapped my fingers and shouted, "Hey, if you want to talk loudly, go to economy class or use your own jet!"

But just as the words left my mouth, all the men fell silent and turned to look at me. One man in the middle slowly raised his eyebrows, a hint of amusement on his face. "Look who's talking! I wonder how you even managed to book a ticket on this flight?"

To be honest, he was infuriatingly handsome—the kind of arrogant man I seemed to be attracted to, despite my better judgment. With his piercing blue eyes, dark hair, broad shoulders, and tanned skin, he was exactly the type of guy I often found myself falling for. And the fact that he didn't seem to be from my country, and we were speaking in English, only added to his allure.

I huffed indignantly and grabbed a glass of water from a passing waitress, throwing the contents directly in his face. "There, now we're even. Don't you dare talk to me that way!" I laughed, reveling in my petty victory, feeling a rush of satisfaction as he wiped his face in shock.

But before I could even blink, the man had reached out and pulled me onto his lap. "I'm not scared, pretty. No one has ever dared to shout at my face like that. And by the way, this is my airline."

I rolled my eyes, pushing his hands away. 'His airline? Whatever!' I cleared my throat, looking him straight in the eye. "Even so, handsome, take your hands off me, or I'll open the emergency door and push you out!" I threatened him directly, but there was something about him—the way his eyes seemed to be peering into my very soul, and the wicked expression on his face—that made me lose all control.

This had never happened to me before. What was going on with my body and my tongue?!

He blurted out, "You're sexy."

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling flustered. "You're hot!" I managed to say before quickly retreating back to my own seat and hiding behind a magazine, desperately trying to conceal the embarrassed flush on my cheeks. 'What am I doing? I'm supposed to be on my way to work, not looking for fun!'

As the plane took off, I couldn't help but sneak glances at the mysterious stranger, captivated by his presence. There was just something about him that drew me in, despite my better judgment. Maybe it was the way he carried himself with such confidence, or the intensity of his gaze. Whatever it was, I found myself increasingly drawn to him, battling with the attraction that tugged at my heart.

I tried to distract myself by reading the magazine, but my mind kept wandering back to him. 'Who is this man, and why am I so intrigued by him?' I wondered, sneaking another peek in his direction. He was deep in conversation with the other businessmen, his brow furrowed in concentration, yet his gaze occasionally flickered back to me.

When the flight attendant came by with a refreshment cart, I seized the opportunity to get a closer look. "Excuse me, could I have a glass of champagne, please?" I asked, flashing the attendant my most charming smile, hoping to calm my racing heart.

As the attendant poured the champagne, I glanced over at the mysterious stranger, only to find him watching me intently. Our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us, making my heart race. I quickly took the glass and retreated to my seat, my heart pounding in my chest, battling the conflicting emotions surging within me.

'What is wrong with me?' I scolded myself. 'I'm supposed to be focusing on starting over, not getting caught up in some stranger's spell.' But try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling that this man was somehow different from the others I had encountered.

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, with me alternating between pretending to read my magazine and sneaking glances at the handsome stranger. I couldn't help but wonder what his story was, and why he had such a captivating presence that seemed to draw me in like a moth to a flame.

Finally, the plane touched down in Italy, and I gathered my belongings, eager to put some distance between myself and the intriguing man. As I was making my way through the bustling airport, I couldn't resist one last look in his direction. To my surprise, he was watching me, a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I quickly turned away, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. 'Get a grip, Selena,' I scolded myself. 'You're here to start a new chapter, not get distracted by some charming stranger.'

With a deep breath, I made my way to the exit, determined to leave the encounter behind and focus on the task at hand. As I stepped out into the warm Italian air, I felt a sense of excitement and trepidation. This was my chance to start over, to rebuild my life from the ashes of the one I had lost. I was ready to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead, even if it meant letting go of my past and the haunting memories of Steven.

Noah Blanco.

I was on the flight back to Italy, my homeland, the place where I had spent the majority of my life. It was always a mix of emotions whenever I returned. Italy was rich in memories, both good and bad, and no matter how many times I traveled, each trip brought a fresh wave of nostalgia. The scent of the air, the taste of the food, the sounds of the streets—all of it wrapped around me like a comforting yet bittersweet embrace. This time, however, felt different. I had a strong urge to check on my airlines, a routine I performed monthly, sometimes even more frequently. But today, something unusual had occurred, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something peculiar about it. Was it good? Bad? Or simply a figment of my imagination?

As I sat in the luxurious cabin of the plane, talking with the president of the airline, I felt the familiar rush of business conversations. Yes, as a busy man like me, I rarely had time to indulge in lengthy discussions, so I often opted for these meetings mid-flight. The plush seats and the soft hum of the engines usually provided a perfect backdrop for negotiations and deals. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and yet, my instincts told me to dig deeper.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strikingly beautiful girl erupted with a loud complaint about the noise we were making. Her words cut through the air like a knife, and I was taken aback. Who was she to scold me? It was as if she had no idea who I was. I quickly assessed her—she didn't look Italian, and with her boldness, she was clearly out of her depth. It was rather rude and foolish of her to jump into a quarrel without understanding the context. Who did she think she was, barging into my world like that?

Even without knowing my background, it should have been evident to her that I exuded an air of wealth and power. I mean, it was as obvious as day. My tailored suit, my confident demeanor—it all screamed success. Therefore, it was utterly bizarre that she had the audacity to throw water in my face without a hint of fear or hesitation. Instead of flinching, she smirked at me, her confidence almost infuriatingly captivating.

I was momentarily speechless, and yet, I found myself oddly impressed. I should have reprimanded her or at least given her a piece of my mind. Perhaps I should have slapped her for her insolence or even choked her until she gasped for forgiveness. But instead, I found myself admiring her beauty.

Her features were simply breathtaking—angelic and hot in a way that made my heart race. It was a combination I had never encountered before, and her audacity only added to her allure. In that moment, she had unwittingly committed an unforgettable mistake; she had insulted me. But oddly enough, it was this very insult that intrigued me.

It was remarkable; even men had never dared to confront me like that. Yet here she was, shocking me with her boldness, and then, as quickly as she had appeared, she returned to her seat, dismissing me entirely. Was she shy? Embarrassed? It was hard to tell. Just moments before, she had been yelling at me, and now she seemed lost in her own world, her fingers toying with her long hair, her cheeks flushed crimson as if she had daydreams of something more intimate.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Perhaps I had a dirty mind, but I often found myself hitting the nail on the head when it came to these things.

The conversation about business faded into the background as I found myself captivated by her. My gaze was fixed on her, and I was eager to see what she would do next. I longed to stand up, to walk over to her, and sit beside her, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the thought that she might take the initiative; after all, I was not accustomed to pursuing women. Usually, they were the ones who chased me, pleading for my attention.

Hours passed, and the flight was uneventful. When we finally landed, it was as though she had vanished into thin air. I asked the airline manager to track her down, which was a simple task since she was a foreigner and had booked her ticket using her passport. I was determined to find her again and discover what had driven her to confront me in such a bold manner.

Once I got into the limo, I headed straight to the grand hotel I owned. Fate was on my side because, as luck would have it, I encountered her once more. This time, she was in a heated argument with the receptionist, her frustration palpable. Her voice rose above the murmur of the hotel lobby, and I could see the fire in her eyes.

I approached her, placing my arms on the counter. "Hey, you. Is there no other way to express yourself rather than yelling? Can’t you converse like a civilized person?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge her reaction. But she dismissed me entirely, not even bothering to look my way. I felt a surge of humiliation and nudged her shoulder lightly. To my surprise, she slapped my hand away.

She turned to face me, crossing her arms defiantly. "Why do you keep showing up everywhere I go? Don’t you have anything better to do than bother a beautiful woman like me?" she huffed, her tone sharp yet oddly alluring.

Oh, how I wanted to retort! Part of me wanted to slap her mouth shut, but an even wilder part of me craved a passionate kiss. What a twisted mind I had!

In my head, I smirked, thinking, “No, sexy girl. I usually just have my way with beautiful women like you.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I should be asking you the same. Why are you everywhere I own?"

Her eyebrows knitted together, and she looked at me as if I were the most ridiculous person she had ever encountered. "Really? Do you think you own Italy or something?" she scoffed, a small snort escaping her lips. I found that surprisingly cute and sexy, but only in a context I could appreciate fully.

"I do, actually. Seventy percent of Italy is mine," I replied, unable to resist the urge to boast. The words rolled off my tongue with an air of arrogance, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction.

She shot me a look of disbelief. "Please, shut the f'ck up. I’m not interested in you. I came here because I reserved a room, and now the receptionist is telling me there are no vacancies! I’m already mad enough to squeeze your balls and smash this hotel over your pretty head," she exclaimed, turning her attention back to the receptionist as if I were invisible. Did she really not realize who she was speaking to? Perhaps she was simply foolish—though I found that hard to believe. No woman had ever rejected me so brazenly before.

I slammed my hand on the counter out of frustration. "Hey, listen to me. I’m uninterested in you too. Good luck with your reservation," I said, stepping back, but she muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t quite catch.

“Well, I guess I’ll just go look for a room in another hotel,” she said, dragging her bags away.

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, and impulsively, I called out, "Wait! You could stay here tonight in my suite." What was I thinking? She might misinterpret my offer as an attempt to seduce her.

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow at me. "Oh, great. What about you?" Her tone was challenging, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

There was something about her gaze that made me tremble. Sometimes she appeared shy, and other times she was utterly unashamed. I stared at her, momentarily lost for words, captivated by her presence.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Well, I guess you could stay with me tonight until you find me an empty room. But don’t you dare touch me, or I will cut off your precious member," she warned, her tone rude and arrogant. Yet, I could barely suppress my laughter at her audacity.

"I promise I won’t touch you. The suite is quite spacious—two bathrooms and two beds. Don’t even dream of it," I replied, offering her a sheepish smile, trying to lighten the mood.

She eyed me up and down, and then, surprisingly, she pushed her bags toward me. "Fine, carry these bags to your suite. I’ll follow you. I’m exhausted because your Italian airline was too noisy and uncomfortable. It felt more like a public bus than a plane," she commanded, her eyes daring me to refuse. Did she really think I was her servant?

My staff stood frozen, eyes wide, likely wondering if I was going to lose my temper. I clenched my fists, my anger simmering just below the surface. "Bring those bags to my suite now! Why are you all staring like idiots?!" I yelled at my men, frustration boiling over.

She shook her head with a smirk. "You know, you should calm down, or you’ll die of a heart attack at a young age. Or maybe your nerves will just explode," she said, her voice dripping with mock concern.

I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t just thrown her out or yelled at her to leave, yet here I was, offering her my suite. No other woman had ever been allowed to step foot in that room. My relationships usually took place in other rooms or at my various properties, but this was different. It felt like I was stepping into uncharted territory, and I was both excited and apprehensive.

I walked toward the elevator, and she followed closely behind. It was bizarre how easily she had agreed to stay with a stranger. I still didn’t even know her name, yet here I was, inviting her into my life.

As we stepped into the elevator, my men trailed behind, and she leaned closer, inhaling the scent of my cologne.

"What? Do you actually like my perfume?" I asked, a hint of arrogance creeping into my voice.

She scrunched her nose, making a face. "Actually, you need to take a bath. You stink! You’re sweating!"

God! I wanted to pull her cheeky tongue out of her mouth! Yet, I couldn’t help but feel an odd thrill at the thought of the challenge she presented. This woman was unlike anyone I’d ever met, and she was certainly making my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

As the elevator ascended, the tension hung thick in the air. I could feel the sparks between us, a mixture of annoyance and attraction that was both exhilarating and confusing. What was it about her that captivated me so? I had dealt with countless women, and yet, she was different. There was a fire in her that I couldn't ignore, a challenge I found myself eager to accept.

When the doors slid open, I stepped out, leading the way to my suite. She followed, a determined look on her face, as if she were ready to face whatever came next. I couldn't help but admire her resolve. As we entered the suite, I gestured for her to sit down, but she remained standing, her posture defiant.

"Well, here we are. Make yourself at home," I said, trying to sound casual. But inside, I was anything but calm. The suite was grand, a mix of modern luxury and classic Italian charm. It was a space I usually kept private, and now it felt like it had been invaded by this wild spirit who had thrown my world into disarray.

She took a moment to scan her surroundings, her eyes wide with surprise. "This is your suite? It’s huge! How many people do you normally entertain here?" she asked, her tone teasing, as if she were trying to provoke me further.

"Only the elite," I replied, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"Well, I’m not impressed," she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Not even a little?" I challenged, leaning back against the plush sofa.

She rolled her eyes, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching. "Okay, maybe a bit. But don’t get used to it. I’m still mad at you," she said, her voice lightening slightly.

"Good to know," I replied, my heart racing.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted, the initial tension giving way to a strange camaraderie. We talked, bantered, and despite our rocky start, I found myself drawn to her even more. There was something undeniably intoxicating about her spirit, and I was beginning to realize that this encounter might be the most interesting of my life.