Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance

by River Laurent

  Eventually, she gives in, murmuring the words that I’ve been longing to hear since the first moment I set eyes on her, “Fuck me, Lincoln,” she pants the plea out.

  I’m so into what I’m doing that I almost don’t hear her the first time. I decide to continue, to really make her beg. “What was that?” I ask, pulling back and shooting a look at her.

  Her face is painted with need, her jaw taut and her eyes bright. “Fuck me, please,” she begs.

  “Are you sure?” I ask innocently.

  “Lincoln, I need this…”

  “Need what?” I ask, stroking around the entrance to her pussy with one finger tauntingly.

  She lets out a frustrated groan. “Need you inside me,” she pleads. “Like this. Anyway you want. Please, just fuck me…”

  I look down at her dripping pussy and know I can’t hold back any longer. I have to have her. This is fun, but my cock is straining so hard against my pants, I fear I might do it damage.

  “Don’t move,” I order as I pick up her shredded panties from the floor. Leaning forward, I prompt, “Open,” as I tap her mouth. With her mouth open, I shove the panties between her lips, earning a surprised squeak as my reward. “We don’t want Maddie to hear now, do we?” I murmur, stroking her chin and drawing her gaze to mine.

  She nods and closes her eyes, wiggling her hips back and forth, reminding me as if I need reminding that her pussy needs my cock inside it.

  I pull down my pants. I’m so damn hard just by looking at the sight of her like this, desperate for me. Hell, it’s almost enough to make me nut. I press myself to her entrance and her pussy instantly clenches around my cockhead. I look down at her, and grabbing her hips, sink my fingers into her flesh hard. “Fuck yourself on my cock,” I order.

  She turns her head and stares at me for a second before it sinks in.

  I thrust an inch into her and then hold still, though it takes all my power to do so.

  Sam seems to get the message, and begins to work herself back and forth on my dick. Spreading her cream on my cock, making it glisten.

  I get to watch it all and the feeling is exquisite, but even better than the sensation of her hot, tight cunt desperately pushing itself up and down my dick is the sight of her doing this. She tips her head back and closes her eyes and even through the fabric of the panties, I can make out her deep, guttural groans of pleasure as she takes me in deep. I have never wanted anyone as badly as I want her in this moment, but I want to make her work for this. There’s nothing better than seeing a woman so desperate for you that she’ll do anything she can, to feel your cock inside of her.

  Sam looks completely lost to pleasure.

  I let her fuck me like that for a few more agonizing minutes, but having to hold back is killing me. My balls are tingling and my cock is aching for some real, deep fucking. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore. I lean forward and grasp a handful of her hair in my hand. Then I begin to thrust into her. I go slow at first, matching her pace, but gradually the two of us are moving faster, harder, our bodies in perfect harmony.

  A long, low muffled wail of pleasure emits from her mouth.

  I feel a surge of triumph. I said I was going to make her scream and I did.

  “You want to come?” I ask, leaning down and running my free hand up her spine.

  She nods.

  Oh no, I want to hear it. “I said, do you want to come?” I demand, pulling the panties out of her mouth.

  “I need you to make me come,” she almost growls at me, animalistic, a side of her I’ve never seen before.

  I smile. That’s my girl.

  I gently stuff the panties back into her mouth and slide a hand down between her legs to stroke her clit, matching my movements with the pace of my thrusts, watching as her jaw clenches once more and her eyes roll back. She’s moving as if on instinct now, her body taking over, every motion pushing her closer and closer.

  I’m so focused on making her come that my own orgasm almost takes me by surprise. I tip my head back and let out a roar, forgetting Maddie is asleep in the next room. I bottom out inside of her. My cock twitches as I hold myself deep, making sure she can feel every pulsating inch of me as I empty my load in her.

  She carries on, fucking me, her movements now frantic. Her body starts to arch and spasm. A moment later, I feel her come, her clit throbbing and her pussy clenching me as she milks the last of my climax from my erection.

  Our bodies still, the two of us lost in this shared bubble of pleasure that takes a good long while to burst.

  When it does, I slowly pull out of her, and slide down on the bed next to her.

  Sam turns to me and I take the gag out of her mouth.

  Leaning in, she plants a soft kiss on my lips. “I enjoyed that. Now I’m going to use my mouth to clean you up, you dirty, dirty boy you.”

  I laugh softly as she moves down along my body. Life is good.

  Epilogue

  Samantha

  One Year Later

  “That sounds just great. We’ll have the proposal over to you sometime in the next two or three days.” I’m smiling when I hang up after talking to the representative of the company that will most likely be my next client. I fire off a quick email to my assistant, confirming she needs to get the finalized version of the proposal over to me for review.

  “Sam?”

  Maddie’s knock at the door to my office is well-timed, and it’s with a smile that I get up to answer. “What is it?” I ask, tussling her curly hair and taking her hand to let her lead me to the kitchen. One thing I love most about having my own consulting company is being able to work remotely. Why pay overhead for an office when I can do everything from home? I’ve been successful in the past year, but I’m nowhere near needing more space than what I have here.

  Besides, there are situations in which working in my pajamas, with my feet up, might come in handy in the near future.

  “I made lunch!” Maddie waves her arms with a flourish, showing off her handiwork. For a seven-year-old, she didn’t do half bad. Tuna sandwiches, salad, and Nutella cookies.

  “Very well done, young lady.” I kiss the top of her head before shooing her into her chair. “Just make sure you finish all the good stuff before you start in on the good stuff.”

  She laughs impishly before I sit opposite her and we share lunch, and as we always do when she is on a school break. Sometimes, I can’t believe my luck. I fell into the family I always wanted. She’s such a great kid. Even after eight months of being married to her father, she hasn’t lost her charm. I couldn’t ask for a better stepdaughter.

  “Are you finished working for the day?” she asks, chomping on a mouthful of sandwich.

  “Yup. And Daddy should be home soon, too.”

  “Where is he? He doesn’t work on Saturdays anymore.”

  “I know, and that’s such a good thing. He had to pick something up from the store.”

  “Oh! Ice cream?”

  “No!” I laugh. “Something even better. I promise.” At least, I hope she thinks it’s better. I know I do.

  My husband gets home just after we’ve finished eating, and he’s carrying a gift bag in one hand. My heart skips a beat, the way it always does when Lincoln enters the room. I never thought marriage could be like this. Lord knows, I didn’t have the strongest example while I was growing up. Every day I get to wake up beside him is a joy, one which hasn’t lost its magic over the past months.

  “Ooh, what’s that?” she asks, eyes wide. “Is it for me?”

  “Maybe it’s a gift for Sam. What do you think about that Big Eyes?” he teases, holding the bag high enough, so she can’t reach it.

  “No, it’s not. It’s for me. Sam told me,” she says, hopping up and down with one arm outstretched.

  Both Lincoln and I laugh. The kid doesn’t miss a trick.

  “Yes, it’s for you,” he says and hands over the bag.

  I pat a spot beside me on the sofa, signaling for her to sit with me. My s
tomach’s a little woozy, which is nothing new lately.

  Our eyes meet over the top of her head as she fishes her gift out from the thick thatch of tissue paper. I can see he’s just as nervous as I am. What if Maddie turns out to be one of those jealous kids who doesn’t want to share the attention?

  “What is this?” she asks.

  “Open it, you big silly,” Lincoln prompts.

  She pulls out the t-shirt.

  I hold my breath as she lets it unfold in front of her.

  The words are clear. Big Sister.

  We watch, neither of us saying a word, as she takes it all in silently.

  “Honey?” I whisper, my throat is nearly choked with emotion.

  “Sweetheart?” Lincoln asks, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

  “Does this mean…I’m gonna get a brother or a sister?” She runs one hand across the front of the shirt over the words, as though she needs to touch it to believe the message.

  “A brother,” I explain. “You’re going to have a baby brother. In around five months.”

  “Five months?” She jumps up, glaring at us. “I have to wait five whole months for the baby to come?”

  “Um…” Lincoln and I exchange glances. “Does this mean you’re happy?” he asks.

  She stares at us curiously. “Why would I be anything else?”

  “Um… Just us being silly,” Lincoln replies.

  She throws herself into his arms, squeezing him around the neck. “A baby! A brother! I’m gonna be a big sister?”

  “You really are happy, honey?” I ask, my eyes misting. I couldn’t bear it if Maddie had been moody or mad about the baby growing in my belly. It would have broken my heart.

  She comes to me, smiling from ear to ear, and looks down at my belly. It’s only ever-so-slightly swollen four months in. “Is he in your stomach now?” she whispers.

  I nod, too choked up to speak.

  “Do you want to see if you can feel him kick?” Lincoln asks.

  Maddie frowns. “Is he being naughty? Is he kicking Sam?”

  “No, honey, he is just moving around and that feels like a gentle prod.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “So do you want to feel?”

  She nods and places one palm over where the baby is sleeping. I’ve never seen such reverence in my life.

  Lincoln takes my hand, his fingers closing over it, reminding me that I have everything.

  Life is perfect.

  Second Epilogue

  Lincoln

  Five Months Later

  “Come on over, sweetheart.”

  Maddie’s eyes are as big dinner plates as I usher her to the bed where her stepmother and new baby brother are resting. It’s been a long twenty-four hours, but definitely some of the happiest of my life.

  Sam looks as though she feels much the same way, her eyes heavy with fatigue but a gentle smile firmly in place nonetheless. She’s exhausted, weak, her hair in a tangled bun, but she’s never looked more beautiful or more overjoyed. All because she’s holding her son in her arms.

  Our son.

  “Hi, honey,” Sam coos when she sees Maddie with me. “I’m so glad you’re here. This little man has been anxious to meet his big sister.”

  Maddie seems to almost swell up with pride at the thought of being the new baby’s big sister. “He has?” she asks in a hushed whisper. “I wanted to meet him, too.” She walks over to the side of the bed.

  I lift her up and put her on the bed so she can sit beside Sam and the baby. Jacob. My boy.

  “He’s so small,” she whispers in awe.

  “He is small,” Sam replies, stroking Maddie’s hair. “But I’m pretty sure he recognizes your voice by now, too. I’m sure of it. From all those books, you read to him. You should talk to him.”

  “I should? His eyes are closed so he must be sleeping. I thought you weren’t supposed to wake babies up when they’re sleeping.”

  Sam and I laugh gently at this.

  Sam smiles at her. “Sure, but I don’t think you’ll wake him right now. He’s had a very, very long first day of life. But he does want to be with you. Do you think you want to hold him for a little while?”

  My daughter gasps softly, like her stepmother just voiced a dream she didn’t dare speak aloud. “Can I? I would love it.”

  “Of course.” Sam shows her how to hold her arms and very carefully puts the bundle half in her hand and half in her lap.

  I’m fairly sure my heart will explode with love as I watch my wife hand our son to our daughter. It’s the most precious moment of my life.

  Maddie looks down into the baby’s face, examining him closely. She looks up at me, then at Sam, and starts bawling—like ugly crying.

  “Sweetheart, what is it?” I ask, moving to her side to hold her close to me. I don’t want her to feel like she’s second best now, like she doesn’t count anymore. She’s my first. And no child no matter how many come will ever take her place.

  It isn’t that at all. “I’m just so happy,” she weeps, leaning against my chest, still holding her baby brother. “I’m so happy.”

  I look to Sam, whose eyes are also sparkling with unshed tears, just like mine are. Yes. I know how Maddie feels.

  The End

  I know that many of you have been waiting to read the full version of Sweet Revenge. As mentioned in the Author’s note, the complete book is included in this file.

  So … happy reading.

  The CEO & I

  Published by River Laurent

  Copyright © 2017 by River Laurent

  The right of River Laurent to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-911608-07-3

  Created with Vellum

  Appreciation

  Thank you Leanore Elliotte and Brittany Urbaniak

  Chapter 1

  Luke

  He’s fucking flirting with her!

  Fury slams into my head. The guy at the immigration counter continues to look her up and down. Then the smarmy bastard lifts his eyebrow in a completely inappropriate way. My hand clenches the handle of my briefcase to stop myself from going over to him, knocking his head off, and shoving it up his—

  Jesus H. Christ!

  Where the hell did that come from?

  Jade Emerson is not my girlfriend. She’s my damn PA! She works under me, scratch that, for me. Plus, she’s married. I never mix business with pleasure. And she is the last person to turn my head. I’m pretty certain that I’ve never met a woman who is more determined to look like someone’s grandmother. Coke bottle glasses, not a lick of makeup, severe bun, dowdy clothes. She’s got it all. The works.

  Although, to be honest, her utter lack of sex appeal was one of the reasons I hired her. I make it a point not to work with attractive women. I didn’t always have that line in the sand, but I’m thirty-four now, and I’ve bedded enough women to know the score.

  Basically, I’m sex on a stick.

  That’s not bragging or conceit. It’s just the way things are. I see the looks I get from women when I walk by. Their eyes widen, their lips part, and they focus on me like nothing else in the world exists. Throw the fact I’m filthy rich into the equation and suddenly, I’m irresistible. That’s fine outside of the office, but in an office environment, it’s a damn nightmare.

  I want to keep things strictly professional. Partly, because I don’t need that kind of complication, but mostly, I just don’t w
ant to be the guy who bangs his secretary. I find the whole idea sleazy and vulgar. It’s not who I am.

  Hiring married, dowdy women like Jade Emerson makes it easy to stick to my rule. Even if they are the type to cheat on the side, they understand I’m not in their league. It’s great for me too; I’ll never be distracted or tempted. Sure, some men might find her sexy. Notice the reaction of the fool at the counter, but not me. My type runs to models, ‘it’ girls, or just straight up bimbos. At least, this is how it’s supposed to work in theory. And how it has worked for the last two months she’s been with me.

  Peanuts for brains returns her passport and she hurries to join me. My theory has worked for the last two months and there is no reason it should not work for the foreseeable future. Deliberately, I glower at her.

  “Sorry, it took so long,” she says meekly, tucking her passport into her purse.

  “Try to keep up, Mrs. Emerson.” Turning on my heel, I start striding away. I can hear her sensible librarian shoes clacking on the polished floor as she jogs alongside. I know I’m being an ass, but I’m still reeling from the crazy moment in my head when I got all possessive over her.

  My nostrils flare suddenly. “What’s that smell?”

  She blushes. “One of the stewardesses spilled the fish surprise on me.”

  Now, I can’t help staring at the color seeping up her neck and into her cheeks. I frown with irritation. I’m losing it. What’s wrong with me? Sure, I’ve been working flat out all week and I was exhausted before the nineteen-hour flight from New York, but this just isn’t me. I don’t lust after my secretaries. Especially, plain Janes like her.