Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (7 page)

“There! Right there,” she groaned, hands curling into fists of orgasm,
body flailing as she murmured over and over, “Oh, God! Oh, God!” She was
self-conscious; most guys didn’t just do this. They might flirt a bit with the
clit, but they didn’t engage so fully. So, uh,
deeply
. He clearly
enjoyed
this. Reveled in it. And as he picked some perfect rhythm for making her come,
she realized she was being played by a sex virtuoso.

Give in to it, Laura. Give in
, she told herself, hoping he
didn’t care about her fleshy belly, her curvy ass. All worry faded as she
orgasmed and realized she had never thought this was possible, had never been
in the hands of a master like this. Keeping her pussy on his tongue, he
maintained, tongue pushing and withdrawing, getting every last bit of her
release as her muscles unclenched, her gasps subsiding, little sounds of
exertion.

He looked up and grinned, and slid his hands up her body, following her
curves. One hot kiss full of her taste geared her up again, her clit and pussy
clenching so hard she climaxed yet again simply from the kiss, her hips pushing
into him, her juices in her mouth, his mouth, the scent so arousing that she
was actually coming from a
kiss
.

***

The taste of Laura was so much more detectable than anything they had
just eaten at dinner. Instinct drove him to kiss her again and just as he was
ready to make his next move she surprised him by taking the lead. She reached
for him with a familiarity, the skin on his aching cock so soft and eager,
rising up to meet her. Laura deftly massaged his thigh with her other hand,
cupping his balls, pressing against the base with her thumb, a deep groan
growing out of him unbidden. Oh, man, did this woman know how to touch him.

She licked her lips with intent, boldly staring him in the eye, then
looking down and drawing out the wait, making him hold his breath with the
agony of anticipation.

She held the base of his cock with one hand and began licking him
slowly, flicking the tip until he groaned again, hoping he could hold out until
they were ready to make love, his body so ready to dive into her flesh, to grab
those curves and to luxuriate in her body.

Taking him in inch by inch, she tongued him until he twitched. Licking
the front of his cock below the head and then gulping him even deeper into her
mouth, flicking her tongue against him, she made him tighten and release his
breath, hips shifting as he moaned at the feel of her mouth around his cock.

Her hand gently masturbated him while sliding her mouth up on his cock,
making sure he felt the inside of her cheek, her tongue and her lips, not
really sucking but milking him.
Milking him
. Oh, shit, at this rate he’d
come in her mouth, and as seconds passed that idea became increasingly
appealing…

One of his hands touched her head, stroking her hair encouragingly even
as he struggled inside, fighting the pleasure she was draining from him, torn
between wanting immediate release and craving the feeling of being in her.

Building up the speed almost excruciatingly slowly, she played him like
a damned instrument, and as his fingers tightened in her hair, her silky locks
felt like another layer of possibility, her hair casual and comforting and just
right – like everything else this night. She gently touched his balls and
he felt his juices begin to ooze out into her mouth, so that she gasped even
with his pole in her mouth, the combination of moist heat and cold, rushing air
too much.

The sound of her voice vibrated his cock in her throat, her lips
kissing her own thumb and forefinger, wrapped like a cock ring, as Dylan was
completely enveloped by her. Nearly screaming, he sat up and grasped her head,
grinding his hips in and out as she sucked hard, then let go, in rhythm to get
him off. She completely covered his root with her lips. He panted, overtaken by
this gem, his hands roaming over her gorgeous breasts, her hair falling in
waves over her face as she mouth fucked him, and the better part of him stopped
her, wanting to give her more.

But holy hell, she was a master at this.

Second date, Dylan
, he told himself.
Second date
.

***

Am I really giving head on the first date?
Laura wondered, her
mouth working the magic she knew she possessed. She was good at this. Really
good. A fleeting thought,
pretty girls don’t need to do that
, shot
through her mind and she willed it away. Giving a blow job wasn’t about being
pretty enough.

It was about control.

Until Dylan had stopped her, she had him completely in her spell. And
liked it.

His fingers sought out her arousal, discovering her wetness. “I want
you, Laura. I need to be in you,” he murmured, her eyelids fluttering shut and
her brain bending into a pretzel, twisted by a sudden lust, a lushness to his
words, their presence, this
now
that made her want to immerse herself in
Dylan forever.

You would think she would be sated from what he had done with that
skilled tongue, but a new wave renewed within. She wanted every inch of him,
however he was willing to give it. Laura needed to impale herself on him, to
ride that shaft, to feel his body on top, to have his hands on her, in her,
over her –
whatever
her – and she wanted to exert control
once again, to be controlled, to just –

Have
more
.

Shoving him on the bed, she put her legs on either side of his hips,
the rasp of leg hair and flesh like music to her ears, his mere touch
connecting her to a confidence she enjoyed. Aiming him carefully, she hovered
over him, savoring the seconds, his eyes locked with hers, the skin around them
warm and inviting, and she plunged herself directly over his gloriously-thick
shaft. He was eager and pulsing, and she groaned when he went all the way in.

What she wanted to say was something profound, the right words to match
what her body was screaming. Instead, she sighed, “Oh, Dylan,” for the feeling
was indescribable, a denouement, emotional and psychological, all at once. Like
a real hole being filled, finding a being strong enough to fill it.

As she stretched up to his tip, sliding up his pole was a sweet
sensation, her body moving toward a screaming orgasm more amazing than any
before. He licked one hand and stroked her nipple; he was spasming her pussy.
Moving slightly, changing everything, Laura slid enough to make him beg,
tightened her cunt, then plunged down again.

“Holy shit! You have a magic pussy. You are so, so tight, so warm,” he
convulsed. She sighed, the feeling too intense. She didn’t have a mind, just an
ass he grabbed and nerve endings and her fullness.

He took charge, both standing now, bending her over the bed, tummy
down. One hand slid him in as he took her doggie style, his other hand in her
hair. She reached for her clit as he dove into her, face buried in the bed.

She thrust back against his cock, the pleasure so insane, the force of
his tip against her cervix making her scream. She clenched the bedsheets, her
fists tightening, her finger finding her clit a swollen, hot mess ready to
explode.

“Ah, GOD!” And she screamed and screamed and rutted, an animal of need
as wetness hit her, knew she was spurting, felt him jerk and jizz filling her
with his semen, her pussy one big fuck bucket, as he screamed, too.

“Laura! Fuck me!” He couldn’t speak any longer, she stopped thinking
and her body tried so much to come as hard as it could, her flesh determined to
work with the magnitude of climax as his slickness and the power of his legs
moving him in and out of her turned their coupling into a well-oiled machine.

He pounded and pounded, she thrust back, he stroked her belly, and
created a tiny pain, the pain all blending with the creaming and the cum to
split her voice into something fierce and low, until all that was left was a
drained feeling, all sex and candy and heaven.

They came down, little aftershocks from the remainders of their sex,
Dylan still in her, as he melted into her, trapping her, their wetness all she
knew. She stopped thinking, her pussy done, her body relaxed, all sated.

“Oh, man…” he mumbled into her back, hot breath ticklish and sweet.

She turned around and pressed into him. “Oh, no. Oh,
woman
, ”
she replied, a wicked grin plastered across her face as she kissed him.

***

How long had they been asleep? Laura wondered as she peered into the
grey darkness, Dylan’s arm covering her bare breasts, the sheets tangled
between them.

The post-coital haze lessened and reality sunk in. She realized that
they were here in his apartment, and then it was –
Oh, no!

When she checked her smart phone it read 3:22 a.m. Well, what was the
right thing to do? Should she stay? She looked down at this tender, precious,
hot, naked man who had just devoured her in every way possible, and felt a
giant rippling sense of guilt.

He seemed to be into her in this whole one nightstand thing. She was
frankly accustomed to bringing the guy back to her place and then having the
guy leave right after everything was over. This was new territory for her and
she wasn’t sure. Should she stay? Wake up early, make him breakfast? Lifting
his arm off her, she slowly stood, stretching and examining the room.

As she looked around his bedroom, she started to notice pictures.
Pictures of Dylan with a woman on the beach holding surfboards, a woman in a
stringed bikini, and then another picture of the same woman in a sport bikini
playing beach volleyball. And then
another
of what looked like the same
woman standing at the ski slope along with another man. Yet another picture of
the same woman on the snowboard doing some sort of flip in mid air.

What the fuck?
Her heart started to pound. This was all wrong.
He was definitely – this was just some one nightstand. Was that his
wife? His girlfriend? Who? Every insecurity flooded her, everything fearful
poured into her, and here she stood completely naked standing in the moonlight,
staring over this guy who had just given her the best four hours she had had in
years.

It was all a lie. A big,
fat
lie.

She scrambled to find her thong, her skirt, her sweater, her bra
– where was it? Found it somewhere across the room hanging off of a
doorknob of a closet.

Had they really been that, uh,
acrobatic
? Apparently. As the
feelings all merged into one big bundle of sheer fright, she found herself
flooded with shame – shame and despair. And most of all a massive
adrenaline rush that just kept screaming,
get out, get out, get out, get
out, get out now
.

She tiptoed, holding on to the straps of her heels, making sure she had
her purse, her scrunchie pulling her hair together quickly so she didn’t look
quite as ridiculous as she felt as she handled the walk of shame, clicking the
door as quietly as possible.

The hallway was empty as she tread gingerly down the stairs in her
stocking feet and then finally found herself outside in the cool night air, the
streetlamps illuminating the path back home. Fortunately, there were cabs
floating around at 3:30 in the morning now and she grabbed one, completely
ignoring every comment that the cabbie made, hoping like hell he could read the
fact that she had leaned back against the backseat and closed her eyes, wanting
to be left alone.

Alone was safer.

Laura used every spare molecule of energy and focus to still her heart,
to calm it back down to where it belonged, in the normal, boring, slow pace
she’d experienced before the whirlwind of Dylan. She should have known it was
too good to be true. Every damn moment of it. He just wanted a piece of meat on
the side. A
big
piece of meat. A little variety was the spice of life,
right? Her body was so different from his girlfriend’s, a sleek, muscled, athletic
sculpting she couldn’t imagine.

Damn, damn, damn
– here came the tears. They weren’t the
great big heaving sobs that she felt after dating someone for months and then
realizing that it just wasn’t working. This was more the scalding tears of
reproach, of the fact that she should have known better, and of a bit of
giddiness that she’d gotten something more than she’d expected out of the
evening.

Dinner and mind-blowing sex was great, but apparently what she had just
had with him was all she was going to have, because he was clearly involved
with whoever that woman was and that woman had a bod that went on for miles.
Damn, if she had 10 percent body fat, Laura would be amazed. And if that was
his type, what was Laura? Just some cow he decided he’d grab onto for the hell
of it, trolling some dating site.
Whatever.

The screech of the cab’s brakes told her it was time and then
boom
– she felt the car jerk to a stop. She handed the cabbie enough of a tip
to make herself feel good and to make him grin, and to wish her a good night, a
good morning, a good whatever. As she headed up to her apartment her shoes
vibrated like a gong,
click, click, click,
her legs propelling her on on
very weak heels, very tired calves, very tired
everything
. Mind, body
and soul.

She peeled off her outfit, poured herself into her big oversized
flannel pajamas, and just crawled into bed to sleep the sleep of the
conflicted.

***

Dylan was accustomed to waking alone, Jill’s side of the bed a cold
place, a sexual Siberia, but he had hoped to find Laura there this morning.
Making her breakfast and having her
be
his breakfast had been on his
mind as he’d faded off to sleep, cradling her in his arms.

Hopefully, she’d left a note. Maybe she needed to rush off to work. He
understood. It was hard to juggle shifts and bosses and –