Fake Bride: A Billionaire Boss Fake Marriage Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  She worked the button open. Malcolm loomed over her. His eyes searched her face. She gazed back into their depths. She could only show him how much she wanted him, how much she longed for him.

  She got the button open and slid one hand inside. He groaned when her fingers clasped around his pulsating shaft. His eyes rolled back in his head, but the next moment, he snapped them open and glared at her. She choked it off around the base and tugged the loose skin up around the head.

  He gritted his teeth, and his lips curled back in a feral snarl. “Is that what you like, baby? Is it hard enough for you?”

  She could only nod and move her hand along its length. Her fingers didn't even meet around its heavy girth. Her stomach fluttered in excitement at its sheer size. Man, it was so hard and thick and mean!

  She stroked faster, but his pants cut into her wrist so she couldn't move very well. She unzipped him with her other hand, but even that didn't help. She had to take her hand out to scoot his pants down his ass.

  His cock sprang out to find her hand. He kicked his pants off, and she beheld his whole naked beauty. She stroked him with all her ardor now. Her other hand cradled his swinging nuts, and he pumped his cock into her hand. Every stroke pushed the skin down to the base to reveal the tight head hidden underneath. Malcolm whined louder. “Fuck, baby, yeah. You like that piece of meat, don't you? Yank that thing, baby. Yank it hard.”

  She pulled harder. He gasped for breath every time she glided the skin over that taut mushroom. She gazed up into his grimacing face. His hard visage shone with more beauty than she could ever imagine. She adored him like this, raw and uninhibited. Nothing separated her from him. She held him in her hand. She touched his boiling blood with her bare hands.

  “Is that what you want? God damn ,I want to be inside you so bad right now.”

  She tilted the thing downward and slithered it through her glistening lips. She covered it with her slippery juices and plowed its tight head against her clit. She stimulated herself with it until she moaned. “I want you. I want you inside me. Come on. I need you right now.”

  “Do you want me to fuck you, baby?” he growled. “Is that what you want? Let me hear you say you want it.”

  “I want you to fuck me right now. I want your cock inside me. Oh, come on.”

  She pushed him back to wedge his hard-on into her waiting fissure, but he held back. He wouldn't advance no matter what she did. She jerked her hand up and down his shaft to keep him hard. She mixed her frothing pussy with his cock. She moaned out loud and undulated across the bed.

  “Let me hear you beg for my cock, baby. Beg me to fuck you. I won't do it if you don't beg.”

  Her eyes flew open. Beg? No one ever made her beg for it before. Most guys begged her to let them near her. She never met a man strong enough in himself to hold off until she showed him how much she wanted it.

  His overpowering dominance, his smoldering masculinity, thrilled her like nothing else. Burning excitement stabbed her guts. She had to have him. She would do anything to get him. She would grovel if he wanted her to. “Oh, please. Please fuck me.”

  “Louder, baby. Let me hear how much you want it. Beg me to nail that sweet pussy of yours. Do you want that cock? Do you want that cock to make you scream? You won't get it if you don't beg for it.”

  His urgings drove her into a state of madness. Her mind switched over to some forgotten animal lust she never knew she could experience. Before she knew it, she broke down and begged like a craven slut. “Oh, please. Oh, please. Oh, fuck me. I want it so bad. Give me your cock. I can't live without it. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

  “Yeah, baby? Do you need it?”

  “Oh, yes. Oh, don't tease me. I can't stand it. You know how much I need it.”

  “Like this?” He punched it one inch into her hole and pulled it back out just as fast.

  She screeched in wild ecstasy. “Yes! Yes! Like that. Oh, God, please fuck me. Oh, my God, I need it so bad.”

  Her cunt ached so bad for it. Her muscles twitched along her swollen channel. Every corpuscle screamed for him, for more of his beating cock.

  He angled his hips sideways. He poked it in another inch, brought it out, and in again.

  Abbie shrieked and thrashed. She tugged that cock with everything she had until Malcolm roared between gritted teeth, but he still held off. “I'm gonna fuck you, you wicked little beast. I'm gonna nail you so damn hard. Is that what you want? Is that what your sweet little pussy wants?”

  She couldn't beg anymore. She couldn't think. Her own raging desire sent her catapulting into the stratosphere. She orgasmed right there with his cock in her hand and his tight umbrella stuck into her opening.

  She clamped her eyes closed so she wouldn't see him moving in on her. She already deteriorated into the most wretched mess imaginable. She couldn't stop her body pulsing with light and ecstatic sensations. One more scrap of stimulation would explode her beyond comprehension, and every glance of his blazing eyes stimulated her more than she could stand.

  Her hand kept up its incessant rhythm on his shaft. She lost all awareness of what she was doing until he plowed it in hard against her contracting muscles. Her hand collapsed, and he took up the pace where she left off. He lowered himself into her with gentle spiral corkscrews. He rotated his hips to hit all her spots, but she was too far gone to appreciate it.

  He dug his prick into her swollen box, and her muscles clenched around it in a death grip. Her legs surrounded his hips, and her ankles locked behind her back. Every expert thrust of his manhood into her blazing hole rocked her hips up against him to bang her bones against his pelvis.

  She howled and screamed in cosmic release. She gushed her sticky elixir over his tool to lubricate it all the way in against her cervix. He withdrew to his limit every time and moved his hips side to side to torture her G spot to new heights.

  She couldn't look. She couldn't see anything, anyway. She could only see the inky night outside his windows and the great vacuum of space sucking her down into deeper depths of raging desire.

  She welcomed his weight on top of her and hugged him to her heart. He hid his face in her neck and growled low while his hips kept up their monstrous pumping between her legs. His cock jammed to its deepest extreme in her pussy and flooded her being with the most delicious pleasure she ever experienced.

  He covered her face with his hands, and his lips nibbled down her neck to the hidden place near her collarbone. Before she knew it, he moved his hands all the way down to her waist and down around her ass. He crushed her cheeks in both big paws and guided her hips against his pounding hammer.

  She relaxed into his commanding movements. She was nothing but one sweeping orgasm after another. His fingers massaged her ass. He stirred her in circles to nudge his cock down either side of her chasm and into its bubbling bottom.

  All at once, something stabbed her hard against the ass. She started in his arms, but his fingers crept closer around to the dark crevice behind her back. When he slammed his meat into her very core, she collapsed back against that wicked probe. Inch by inch, he eased it into her back door with every pounding beat of his cock.

  Abbie braced herself against the intrusion, but once he got it in, it blasted its fiery licks into her being. She sat down hard on it and let the oncoming tidal wave wash her away. He hooked his fingers into her flesh, even as his burning rod destroyed her from the front. His pubic bone smashed her clit to smithereens and sent her spinning away in delirious ecstasy over the next peak.

  She rocked in his arms against everything he did to her. Her joints liquefied to rubbery quiescence. She hugged his head into her neck, and his hot breath burned her skin to fresh intoxication. His breath came faster, hotter. Every panting gasp snagged in his throat so he had to moan to get it out. His voice rose in her ear to a crashing roar before his spunk filled her to the brim and overflowed over the bed.

  Chapter 6

  Abbie woke up alone and sore in Malcolm's bed. Venetian
blinds sliced the sun coming through the windows. She eased out of bed as best she could and grabbed a shower in Malcolm's posh open bathroom before she headed downstairs.

  She didn't bother to go down to the sunken living room when she spotted Trina in the same place on the couch. She made herself a good breakfast, but too many questions bothered her to work on her book.

  She studied the pictures covering the walls. Every one of them showed Trina as a little girl. Not one marked her transition into adolescence. In her circuit around the condo, Abbie found a single key lying in the foyer dish. A scribble note next to it read, Storage key. Help yourself.

  That gave her an idea. Without going back to the living room, she punched the elevator button and rode downstairs. She found everything exactly the way she and Malcolm left it. She hunted through the boxes, but didn't find anything different than what Malcolm already showed her. Half the boxes contained old notebooks packed cover to cover with Trina's elaborate drawings. Vibrant colors popped out of every page, in crayon, colored pencil, and pen.

  Abbie selected a box at random and lugged it upstairs. She set it on the counter and started studying the pages. There must be something in here she could find to unlock Trina's mystery problem. Hours passed. Trina never looked up long enough to notice what Abbie was doing.

  Abbie made lunch and left Trina's sandwich on the plate as usual. Malcolm didn't come home for lunch. He never called or anything. Did he regret last night? Was he planning to let Abbie go this morning, now that he had his way with her?

  He had his way with her, all right. He had her every which way, all night long. Just when she thought he couldn't get hard again, he rolled her the other way and worked her back to a fevered pitch with his fingers, tongue, and body.

  Just thinking about him leaning her hands on the bed and bumping into her from behind gave her butterflies. When would she ever find a man like him again? He never did anything until he made her cum all over herself in screaming delight. Then he took her in the dizzy afterglow of her own orgasm to make her cum again and again. He kept her pussy wet and responsive, and he made her look him in the eye, even when she had to turn around to see him. He never left her in any doubt he was the one who took her there.

  She found herself gazing out the window and reliving the night, one position at a time. She even imagined new ones and what she would do and experience if she ever found her way back to that bedroom.

  He picked her up in his arms and carried her off to his cave den. He stuck her full of his rock-hard meat until she collapsed in endless pleasure in his arms. His concoction filled her to the brim and foamed from her mouth and cunt and ass to bathe her clean.

  She pushed a golden curl out of her face with a dreamy sigh. What a man he was! He was a stud, a master. He owned her, body and soul. He could make her beg and crawl and lick his feet with a crook of his little finger.

  She turned back to Trina's notebook. She studied the progression of Trina's artistic development from one year to the next. Every notebook showed some new thought entering her head for the first time to become a shape or a theme winding its way through the whole notebook.

  All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a hand slammed down on the page in front of her. Abbie started out of her reverie to see Trina glaring at her. “What do you think you're doing?”

  Abbie floundered out of her confusion. “Your dad said I could look at your old notebooks. He said you don't draw anymore.”

  Trina yanked the notebook out of her hands. “You have no right to look at these. Don't let me see you looking at these again. Stay away from me and get out of my life.” She tucked the notebook under her arm, grabbed the plate with her sandwich, and retreated to her room.

  Trina didn't come out again for the rest of the day. She didn't notice the box with twenty other notebooks sitting on the floor at Abbie's feet. Abbie sighed. Well, she'd gone and blown it for real this time. Trina would never let her in now. She might never come out of her room for the next six months. Then Malcolm would have no reason to keep Abbie in the condo. He would send her back to Personnel Solutions and get himself a high-priced escort when he wanted someone to mess around with.

  She dragged the box back to her room and got another one from the storage level. She stayed in her room for the afternoon. Trina wouldn't see her looking at them there, but when she took out another notebook, Abbie hesitated to look at it at all. She didn’t see anything in this notebook she hadn't already seen in dozens of others.

  She tossed the notebook back in the box. She was about to throw herself down on the bed when some writing caught her eye on the back cover. It surprised her. Why? In clear, flowing cursive read the words, Trina, 6th Grade.

  No sixth grader ever wrote that neatly. Some adult must have written it. Abbie checked the other notebooks. Each one bore Trina's name and the age at which she drew the pictures, going all the way back to second grade. On every one, the same neat handwriting stood out clear and clean.

  Why did that writing startle Abbie so much? Trina's mother must have written it, so what was the big deal? She snatched a notebook out of the box and flipped the pages faster than ever. When she got to the last page, she threw it away and grabbed another. The more pages she turned, the faster she worked. Her heart raced. This must be it.

  Page after page showed Trina's artwork. Pictures, patterns, color combinations—everything, but no writing. No writing anywhere, right up to seventh grade.

  Abbie packed up the notebooks and carried them back to the storage area, but her mind wouldn't keep still. This must be the answer. It couldn't be anything else.

  The elevator took longer to come back this time. Abbie started to get worried when the door hissed open. She tossed the key in her hand while she waited for the car to take her back upstairs. She couldn't wait to tell Malcolm what she found.

  The door slid open and she heard Malcolm's voice somewhere in the condo. The sound thrilled her guts all over again. All of a sudden, she halted in mid-step. Maybe she shouldn't tell Malcolm anything until she had a chance to talk to Trina herself. Trina hid this secret all these long, hard months. Maybe she wouldn't appreciate Abbie blabbing it to her father right away.

  She smiled at him when she walked into the kitchen. Then she frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm making dinner. You cooked yesterday, so I came home early to take my turn.”

  Abbie stared at him whizzing around the kitchen. He pulled this and that out of the fridge and worked over the stove like a master chef. “You didn't have to do that. I would have cooked. I've been home alone all day with nothing to do while you've been out there conquering the world.”

  He grabbed her around the waist and gave her a quick kiss. “I want to, and if I'm going to conquer something, it's going to be you. Now get a bottle of wine out of the cupboard and pour. I'm parched.”

  Abbie poured two glasses of wine and handed him his. “You're awfully happy. You must have had a good day.”

  “I'm happy because of last night. I couldn't stop thinking about you all day.”

  She sipped her wine. “I thought about you, too.”

  “I can't wait to do it all again tonight.”

  Abbie cringed. “Listen, Malcolm, I don't think we should do it again tonight.”

  He froze with his tongs suspended over his frying pan. “Why not? I guess I should have expected this. I'm too old for you. You need someone younger.”

  “It's not that. I had a great time last night, and I would like nothing better than to do it again and again, every night, if I thought I could keep up with you. It's just that I'm working here. I'm supposed to be Trina's nanny. Besides, if we did it again tonight like we did last night, I don't think I would be able to walk tomorrow morning.”

  He flashed her a wicked smile. “Then you'd just have to stay in bed. I could come home at lunchtime and kiss your sore places.”

  Abbie squirmed on her stool. “I'm sure you would. I'm sure you would make me all squishy and hot all ove
r again, and that would only lead to more of the same thing.”

  He came around the counter and took the glass out of her hand. “You bet it would, baby. I can't get enough of you.” He pushed between her knees and lapped up her kisses with his languid lips.

  Abbie seethed up into his arms and pressed her breasts against his chest. “You know you drive me crazy. You know you're ten times the man as anyone half your age.”

  He shoved his swelling hard-on into her spongy crotch. “If I can be enough of a man for you, that's all I want.”

  “I mean it, Malcolm. I don't think we should do it again tonight. It's not good for the job.”

  He pulled back. “Maybe you think we shouldn't do it again ever.”

  “Actually, we probably shouldn't. It's not that I don't want to. It's just I'm still your employee. You're my boss, and here we are, having dinner together and drinking wine.”

  He went back to his work. “I don't care who or what we are. I want you, and I'll take any of you I can get. If you're too sore to do it with me tonight, I'll just have to wait until you're fully rested. Just so you understand, though, I will never give up on trying to do it with you again. I'll never give up on getting you into my bed for good.”

  Abbie stared at him. “What do you mean, for good?”

  He set his hand on his hip. “Look, darling. I won't lie to you. I'm over the moon for you. I can't get enough of you. I'll never keep my hands off you unless you tell me not to. If I can get you in my bed or in my life, I'll do it. I don't care what it takes. I have to have you. I've lived without you too long. I'm gonna make you mine, and that's all there is to it.”

  She smacked her lips. “Cut it out, Malcolm. I'm a nanny. I'm not cut out to be your....what do you call it?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “My what?”

  “I don't know. Your girlfriend or whatever you're talking about.”

  “I'm talking about the whole nine yards, baby. I'm talking about the gold ring and living happily ever after.”