His Virgin: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Nikki Chase

She's hiding something.

  The thought makes me sick, although I know it shouldn't matter. Nothing about her should matter. She's just a piece of ass that I’m renting for the month.

  When I get down to the hotel lobby, I spot a swimming pool and decide to take a dip. I buy a pair of board shorts from one of the little shops on the ground floor.

  As I lower myself into the pool, my body adjusting to the temperature of the water, I hope it helps cool my head down. I haven’t been thinking straight.

  I shouldn't care what she does with the money. I know the drill. Money for sex—no questions, no mess.

  Cole was the one who put the idea in my head, a few months after Trish and I broke up.

  As busy as my brother was with the hotel chain, he always set aside some time to play, to go to bars and drink, to flirt with women and fuck.

  I had been burying myself in work, often staying overnight at the office because going home to the new, empty apartment reminded me too much of what had happened. I didn’t have the time, or the inclination, to deal with crazy girls just to get some tail.

  That’s when Cole suggested finding a sugar baby so I’d at least spend some time away from the office.

  The conversation starts replaying in my mind when I reach the other side of the Olympic-sized pool. I touch the tiled wall and turn around.

  “So I’d be using her for sex?” I asked Cole at the time, my face scrunched up in disgust. There was something distasteful about the idea.

  “Who cares?” He shrugged. “She’d be using you for money. You’d be using each other. Think of it as a mutually beneficial exchange.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You’d be helping some poor girl put herself through college. Get an education, get a brighter future,” he said.

  In the beginning, I cared—a little too much, probably. But all the girls ever did was feed me their practiced lines, the same things they said to all the other men who were paying them. Eventually, I stopped asking.

  It got boring after some time. Unlike Cole, I need some kind of connection with a woman for the sex to be enjoyable.

  It was incredibly easy to find someone. Even with my inclination for dominating women and inflicting pain on them, I could always find someone to accommodate my desires. But that’s the problem: they were only accommodating me because I was a paying customer.

  Daisy is not like that. Which is why I’m back in the game, even though I’d stopped exchanging money for sex for at least two years when I met her.

  Maybe that’s why I’ve been so reckless with her.

  I used to put any potential sugar babies through a ton of checks—criminal background, employment history, references from the sugaring community, and the list goes on.

  With Daisy, though, the chemistry was so immediate, so strong, that all I could think about was getting my hands on her tight little body, spreading her legs wide, and plunging my cock inside her.

  So when she finally caved and said yes, I wanted to seal the deal right away, which meant forgoing my usual screening.

  I had two reasons. One, I didn’t know if she’d agree to it. And two, I was going to have her no matter what, regardless of what the background checks would uncover. Even if she’d killed someone in her past, I was still going to take her into my home.

  What could a harmless little girl like her do to me anyway?, I thought. I’m older, wiser, bigger, stronger… I was thinking with my dick like a moron.

  I know now that even if Daisy is incapable of posing any threat to me physically, I’ve let her come too close. Way too close for comfort.

  I don’t usually care enough to bring a woman to orgasm. After all, the whole idea is to pay her so I can use her for sex. Her pleasure doesn’t enter the equation at all.

  And yet, I ate her out in my bedroom and I made her come again in our hotel room upstairs. It was supposed to be a fucking punishment; it wasn’t supposed to feel good for her, much less orgasmic.

  So far, I’ve made her come, like, what—three, four times? And I still haven’t gotten any. I haven’t even taken my cock out of my pants yet.

  I have jerked off to the images in my mind of her coming, multiple times. She’s so fucking responsive to my touch, so damn sexy when she comes. I have to admit it’s a different kind of high that I’m quickly getting addicted to.

  But what kind of a chump pays a quarter of a million dollars to tug his own junk?

  She must be secretly laughing at me, thinking I’m some kind of a rich trust-fund kid she can take for a ride.

  She doesn’t even respect my rules anymore, as evidenced by the secret phone call to “her brother,” who could in fact be anyone, even her other sugar daddy. Her changing out of the vibrating panties I gave her to wear just added insult to the injury.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have put in that clause in the contract about her explicit verbal consent for penetration.

  She’s the one who specifically asked for it. I agreed to it because I wanted to see her beg anyway, before I fuck her. I still do.

  I know I can make her body do whatever I want, though. There’s no worry.

  I can manipulate her senses, turn the untouched virgin into a whore, desperate and begging for cock. In fact, she’d be better than a whore, because I know her reactions are genuine. I know some women fake their orgasms, but not Daisy. Nobody is that good of an actress.

  No, she’s real. And I can get what I want from her, easily. It’s completely within my grasp.

  Maybe I’ve been playing it too slow. Maybe it’s time for some strategy, some new tactic. If I have to play dirty, so be it.

  She refused to beg me when I ate her out in my room, but this time I won’t let her go just like that.

  I hold the metal ladder at the edge of the pool with both hands and hoist myself up. After a few laps in the pool, I feel like the water has dissolved all my worry and confusion. Now I know exactly what to do next.

  I’ve decided. The time for patience is over. Daisy’s virginity will be mine before the end of the night.

  17

  Daisy

  When Caine comes back into the room, his hair wet and his chest bare, I’m sitting on the wide wooden windowsill. I have the TV on in the background as I look out the window at the town of Ashbourne, distracted and lost in my own thoughts.

  With Caine in the room with me, though, I can't help but focus all my attention on him. My eyes follow his confident, graceful movements as he dumps his clothes in the plastic-lined hamper, grabs a towel, and takes a seat beside me.

  The windows span the entire width of the room and there's plenty of space, but he sits right beside me, his arm pressing up against mine. My heartbeat starts to speed up from the mere nearness of him.

  “I’d never met Jessica Lake before today,” he says, his eyes two dark blue pools sucking me into their depths.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I draw my eyebrows together and frown. This is a strange development, considering how he's treated me all day.

  “You asked.” He shrugs. “We’re not in my apartment, which is what we initially agreed on, so it's only fair that I give you an explanation at least.”

  “That's right. You… You violated the terms of our agreement.” I grab this chance to be the right one for once. It's not often that Caine Foster admits he's wrong. I guess this is as close as I’m ever going to get to an apology from him.

  “Don't be so dramatic,” he says.

  “So why are we here?” I ask before he changes his mind about sharing information with me.

  “It's a long story.”

  “I have a lot of time.”

  “It's my father.” Caine looks into the distance and takes a deep breath. “He wants me to track down a friend of his, and Jessica Lake is… Well, she's friends with the friend.”

  I’m pleasantly surprised. Behind that hard shell, there's a devoted son who would go the distance for his father.

  “Okay, there's a lot of ‘friend’ in that
sentence,” I say, smiling. “So, we're going to see the friend next, then?”

  “No, the house that we went to this afternoon, that’s her house. She's out of town.”

  “And Jessica knows where she is?”

  “No, but I have people looking into it.”

  “She looked pretty happy to see you for a stranger.” I surprise myself with the clipped tone of my own voice. I didn’t mean for that to come out like it did.

  Now Caine probably thinks I’m jealous and this is a big deal to me. I’ll admit the jealous part, but it's not a big deal—he's my sexual partner and it's only natural for me to want to guard my mate against the competition.

  This behavior is common in the animal kingdom, according to the Discovery Channel. It's only natural. And since he’s my first sexual partner, I feel it more intensely. That's all.

  Caine smirks, telling me he’s thinking the exact thing I was afraid he'd think.

  “What? I’m just curious,” I say as casually as I can, my gaze flicking toward the TV, which is showing a lion biting the neck of a gazelle, spurting red blood all over the soil and grass.

  “I helped her get away from some bad people,” he says.

  So that's the way it is. Everyone says the Foster family has gone clean, but of course there are always going to be traces left.

  They're probably still involved in some nasty, dangerous stuff. Maybe that's why Caine hasn't told me anything—because he's worried I might go to the cops with this information.

  Wait. Does this mean he trusts me now?

  “Caine,” I say softly as I gaze into his blue eyes, his pupils dilated in the dim light. My heart pounds in my chest, but I have to know. “You said you’ve paid girls before.”

  “Yes.”

  “How often?”

  “Not too often.”

  “When was the last one?”

  “That's a lot of questions, kitten,” he says with a teasing smile. “The last one was two years ago.”

  My eyes widen, taken aback by Caine's answer.

  “Does that surprise you, my little flower?”

  “I thought you'd have one right after another,” I admit.

  Caine laughs a contagious laughter, making me giggle. Apparently he finds me funny. I relax, feeling like he's showing me a glimpse into Caine Foster—the real Caine Foster. The caring son, the kind-of-scary-but-almost-friendly guy.

  “Is it always one month?” I ask again.

  “Mostly.”

  “And some were longer?”

  “No. Shorter.”

  “Why?”

  “Why make it any longer?” Caine looks genuinely confused, like there's absolutely no reason why he’d stay with a woman longer than a month.

  “I don't know. Maybe you enjoy someone's company and you want to spend more time together?”

  Caine pauses, his gaze on the floor and his lips curling up to form a thin smile. When he turns to look at me, I catch a flash of sadness before it disappears into the depths of his eyes.

  “What for? If it's going to end anyway, why delay the inevitable? It's better for everyone to know exactly what they're getting into,” he says.

  “Because time is everything,” I say. “Because what is time for if you don't spend it with the people whose company you enjoy?”

  Caine places his palm against my cheek. His hand is big, warm, strong. Dependable, if only for a short time.

  “Everybody leaves everybody else, eventually. Loneliness is the human condition. The sooner you get used to it, the easier it will be.” Caine speaks calmly, soothingly. It's almost like he's comforting me.

  It's late, and the small town outside is dark. There are lights in the houses, but it's way darker than I’m used to in the city. The stars are winking at me in the sky when Caine captures my lips with his. The kiss is hot, passionate, possessive. He's taking ownership of my body, and I’m letting him.

  When he shifts down to my neck, it reminds me of the gazelle on the TV, giving into the lion’s hunger, knowing there's nowhere else to run, nothing else to do. He paws at my tits beneath my top, his fingers teasing and pulling on my nipples, making them harden into little pebbles. I moan, letting my voice fill the room. I want Caine to know I want him this time.

  “Wait,” I say as he pulls my shirt off. He stops with his hands mid-air and raises an eyebrow at me. “We’re at the window.”

  One corner of Caine's lips curl up. “So?” He yanks my shirt off all the way and unhooks my bra.

  “So someone could see.”

  “So let them see. I want the whole town to know you're mine.” His words send a shudder down my spine, even though I’m super conscious of the fact that there's something missing from his last sentence.

  I’m his for the month, is what he should've said.

  I shield my nipples with my hands, but that only seems to excite Caine even more. He pulls me over his legs so I'm straddling his lap.

  “Nobody can see you now,” he says. It's true; now all anyone can see from outside is his broad back and maybe the top of my hair.

  He puts his hands on the small of my back and lifts me up until his mouth lines up with my tits. He licks one nipple, then takes it into his mouth, his tongue circling the raised nub at the center. I gasp, I moan, I writhe in Caine's arms, not caring anymore about letting him see my arousal.

  Of course this is not a relationship. Whatever this is, it definitely has an expiration date. I won't have this man forever. But who cares? All that matters is now.

  Maybe Caine's right; it's better to know for sure that we will part ways. This way, it won't be a surprise when the time comes. It won't hurt as much. It makes the time that we do have together more special. There's no opportunity to take each other for granted when we only have thirty days.

  “Take your jeans off.” Caine's voice is hoarse with arousal. Urgent. Demanding.

  I do as he says.

  He pulls me back onto him, his hands on my waist lowers me until my bare pussy meets the hard length of him underneath his board shorts. Even through the fabric, he feels impossibly big. That is supposed to fit inside me?

  Caine smiles at the apprehension on my face. I close my eyes as he presses our bare chests together, squishing my soft tits against his hard body.

  His smile lands on my lips. I let myself get swept away by the currents of our passion. We kiss like we need each other for air, like we’d die if we separated.

  My hips begin to rock, as if on their own, following an ancient rhythm. I slide back and forth on Caine's bulge, rubbing my clit on his erection. My breathing gets heavier. I hold on to Caine's sculpted shoulders tightly, my movements becoming more frantic by the second.

  Caine groans and leans me back, his forearms holding me up. He lays me down on the windowsill and hovers over me. I whimper, looking up into Caine's ravenous eyes. I was so close. I could almost feel my climax, but now it's drifting away from me.

  Holding himself up with one forearm by my shoulder, Caine reaches down and takes off his board shorts. I glance down and see a thick, veiny, potent cock.

  This is it. We're actually doing this. I'm about to lose my virginity. That is the cock I’ll lose it to. When I walk out of this room, I won't be a virgin anymore.

  We're both lying naked right against the window, my shoulder making contact with the cold glass surface every once in a while. I feel exposed and covered at the same time. We can see everything outside, but we’re in the tallest building in town and the angle doesn't let anyone from below see us.

  “Fuck. You look so sexy when you’re like this,” Caine says as he dips down.

  He runs his tongue along my earlobe. The shot of pleasurable sensations go straight down to my center. Caine slips himself between my legs, amplifying my arousal. His hot, hard cock slides along my folds, lubricated by my arousal.

  “Are you ready to beg yet, kitten?”

  I whimper. He feels so good, and all I know is I want something more. Intellectually, I know what I�
�m after. I want him inside me. But my body can't imagine what that would feel like. I writhe in frustration.

  “You want me?” Caine asks.

  I moan as he bites my neck, creating a heady concoction of pain and pleasure. I arch my back and angle my hips so I can press myself against Caine's cock.

  I nod. God, yes, I want it. I want Caine.

  “Say it,” he grunts, rubbing himself against me faster.

  “Please…”

  “Please what? Tell me what you want.”

  Caine pulls his cock out from between my thighs and lines himself up against my opening.

  I'm throbbing, pulsating. I want to swallow him up with my pussy. I don't even care if it's too big, if it’ll hurt.

  “Caine, please…” My voice trails off into a sigh, while my hands snake around his hard, muscular body.

  “Tell me what you want, my little flower. Beg me for it.”

  “I… I want you inside me. Please…” I put my hands on his back and pull him down, wanting our naked, writhing bodies to get even closer, to become one.

  Caine smirks, and I think I detect smugness in his features. I don't care if he thinks he's won.

  I want this, too. He's not using me for sex. Maybe I’m using him for both sex and money.

  Caine plays with my clit, picking up where he left off. I was already so close it takes no time at all until I come, my juices spilling in his big, skillful hand.

  Then, slowly, excruciatingly, Caine slides inside me, little by little. He growls. “I’m going to make you mine. I’m going to ruin you for other men.”

  I gasp for air as it begins to feel painful. Caine puts a steadying hand on the top of my head to prevent me from sliding on the windowsill.

  “This may hurt, kitten.” He pushes until he breaks through the barrier. Pain penetrates my veil of pleasure and overtakes my body. I bite Caine's tough shoulder and dig my nails into his muscular back.

  Caine stills above me with his hard cock inside me. I put my hands on his chest and push him away. This hurts way too much. Is it supposed to hurt this much?

  “It’ll start to feel good soon,” Caine says reassuringly above me, his hand stroking my hair gently, even as his cock introduces searing pain inside me. He kisses my temple and whispers, “Ride it out.”