Billionaire's Fake Wife: A Single Mom BWWM Romance

by Tyla Walker

  "Finally," Grant moans as he kisses me back.

  All the tension in my body dissolves into relaxing pleasure as I slowly unbutton Grant's shirt and unbuckle his belt as he carries me to my bedroom. As I close the door, nothing feels better as kisses my neck and unzips my dress from behind.

  But I may have spoken too soon because as soon as my dress falls to the floor and Grant masterfully unfastens my bra, his large, manly hands are all over my sensitive nipples. My body feels weak and bows down until I rub Grant's pulsating crotch on my wet undies.

  "Fuck," I moan. "Yes, Grant. I love it rough."

  "Oh, you look uncomfortable," says Grant. "Let me fix that."

  Grant grabs my waist and throws me powerfully on my bed. I land on my soft bed, surprised at his strength. But even more surprised as he slowly walks towards me, and slowly takes off the last piece of clothing on his ripped, massive body.

  "Ahhh, finally, I can stretch out," he calmly says as hops unto bed with me. His huge cock dangling over my panties. It must have been ten––no twelve inches.

  "Oh my God," I say as Grant slowly moves the tiny piece of panty aside.

  "Mmm. Someone's already dripping wet. Good," Grant grins slyly.

  "Wait," I try to say, but all that I could feel next was Grant penetrating me with his huge cock.

  "Fuck!" I scream. "Yes, Grant! This is what I want; this is what I need. You."

  Grant looks troubled as he speaks, "God, Sonya. You feel amazing, and I'm losing control."

  "Don't tell me, honey. Give it to me," I command.

  And Grant obeys, slowly moving his hips until his cock is out and inside me again really skillfully. I feel him trembling inside me, hitting all of the right spots. This time he kisses me and once again puts his loving hands all over my nipples as he makes a mess of my insides as he fucks me hard.

  "Yes, Grant," I cry out as he kisses my neck, and my nails are all over his back. His stroke intensifies, and my brain is filled with nothing but pleasure.

  "Fuck, Sonya," he whispers in my ear. "I'm almost at my limit."

  "M-me too," I try to say while Grant fucks me with a rate that would rival rabbits on steroids.

  And just as my body peaked, Grant lets out a moan and spreads his hot cum all over my sweaty body before finally falling next to me in bed.

  "Sorry," Grant says as he breathes hard next to me.

  "For what?" I ask.

  "For not doing what you asked before, I entered your apartment," he says casually.

  It takes a minute for me to trace back the events of the night until I finally got his joke.

  I playfully slap his face, "Shut up, you smart-ass!"

  We laugh until we fall asleep.

  Fourteen

  Grant

  There she is, standing in front of me. Wide-eyed. I’d just given her the toast of a lifetime. I can’t help myself but stray to where she’s standing. And now she’s here, holding her glass of wine that I just filled to the brim. What do I do next?

  Kissing her certainly wasn’t part of the plan, but thank God I did it. Her lips are heaven-sent. But she’s not reciprocating.

  What do I do? What do I do? Is this sexual assault?

  I pull back and ask her if she’s alright. She ignores me and puts the glass of wine on the table.

  What is she doing? Is she going to find a knife? I’m dead. I should leave before she calls the cops on me.

  But as I step back and head for the door, the strangest things happen, Sonya jumps on me and kisses me hard. Her legs wrap around my waist and her arms around my neck as her passionate lips explore mine.

  “Finally,” I utter as Sonya kisses my cheek and neck while hands are unbuttoning my clothes. Her abs must be amazing to be able to do that with her legs wrapped around me, although she does have my hands on her butt to thank for assisting her feat of strength.

  But as our kisses grow deeper and deeper, I carry her lovely body back to her bedroom.

  As we get inside her room, Sonya puts her feet down back to the floor and tries to close the door quietly. Her figure in the warm moonlight is too appetizing for me to ignore.

  As she finally closes the door with great discretion, my naughty hands unzip her gorgeous red dress and quickly removes the clothing off of her. Her bra was the next victim of my serial pleasure.

  Finally, my hands reach their intended destination, her firm, erect nipples. Their softness is making me hard as I kiss her neck from behind and push my crotch against her panties.

  Her moan resonates all around her room, making me even harder.

  “Grant, I love it rough,” Sonya tells me as she looks back at me with her puppy dog eyes, begging for me do as she asks.

  Ask, and ye shall receive.

  I grab Sonya’s dainty waist and throw her on the bed. Her body bounces twice on her bed before she settles down.

  Crap. Was that too much? I thought. But the predatory nature in her eyes told me the opposite. Sonya loves it, which makes my cock unbearably erect. The gloves, or in this case, the underwear are off.

  I remove my remaining piece of underwear, finally relieving the pressure on my pulsating cock. I stroke it a few times as I gander at Sonya’s beautiful silhouette on her bed. The next thing I know, I hop unto bed with her, her skin like a magnet to mine.

  With one hand stroking my rock-hard cock, the other hand once again explores Sonya’s curves and reaches deep down her panties. She’s dripping wet, which coincides with her lustful stare. With bated breath, I rub the tip of my cock on her pussy.

  “Wait,” Sonya says. But I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long that I can’t help myself.

  Sonya and I moan in carnal ecstasy as I am finally inside her.

  “This is what I need. You,” Sonya exclaims.

  “Sonya,” I respond. “You feel amazing.”

  “Give it to me,” she commands, her voice carried a weight of firmness and strength.

  What else can I do but oblige her request?

  I slowly move out of her, and Sonya’s body responds by massaging my cock as I pull out.

  Christ, she’ll be the death of me, I thought to myself. This is so addicting.

  As I push my hips into her with one quick hard thrust, Sonya lets out the dirtiest moan that I’ve ever heard in my life, which is terrible because my cock is already in its limit.

  Slow down, Grant. I try to tell myself. But my body no longer responded to my command. It had only one purpose now, to become one with Sonya. To make her feel as good as much as she made me feel.

  In and out, my cock goes on Sonya’s dripping pussy. I fondle her bouncing breasts as I kiss her neck. The squeaking bed was getting loud that it may have woken Sonya’s neighbors five rooms away.

  But there was no stopping us now. Sonya’s already drooling while her nails make quick work of my back, substituting it for a scratch post. The pain mixes easily with the pleasure of shooting up from her warm crotch up to my brain.

  “Yes, Grant,” Sonya moans. I love knowing that she’s pleased as fuck. Which triggers my body to go all-out.

  As I’m ramming her pussy as fast as I can, I mutter to her, “Fuck, Sonya. I’m almost at my limit.”

  She responds to something, but I wasn’t listening anymore. A bomb of pleasure was about to go off.

  And just as Sonya’s body stiffens and arches, a wave of delicious sexual pleasure floods my brain. I pull out and release all of my hot love all over Sonya’s sweaty body.

  I fall exhausted next to her. My mind is already fading away into dreamland, but I manage to tell her a quick joke about something she said before I went inside her apartment.

  We laugh, and we fall asleep.

  The next thing I remember is the morning sunlight piercing my eyes. I quickly get up and close the curtains before the sun can destroy the peaceful slumber of anyone else in the room.

  Sonya breathes ever so slightly, with a small grin on her face. Her hair may be as messy as the bed we just made lov
e in, but I only find her just as beautiful as the day I met her, which was with my mother.

  Oh, fuck. What am I going to do now?

  I just realized that my feelings for Sonya were more than just a one night stand, not an amicable situation with someone you work with. Especially if that someone is working with the president of the company, which also happens to be my mother.

  And what am I supposed to do with Sonya and her child once I do get to inherit the company?

  I pace around the room until I notice a picture of Sonya and Lauralee on top of Sonya’s drawer just opposite of the bed. Their smiles could light up a whole room.

  The events of yesterday flash in my mind, remembering all the fun times I just spent with Lauralee. Before, I may have been disgusted with the idea of spending time with kids, but Lauralee was a precocious little wonder. If I had a daughter, I wish that she’d be half as smart as her at her age.

  Questions continue to flood in my mind as anxiety sets in. I already had a simple plan, get married, and convince my mother to hand over the company to me. Then, get divorced a month later due to disagreements with Sonya, travel to Syria, Iran, Afghanistan, Africa, and the rest of the third world country, in hopes of doing an iota of good that would send ripples of goodwill favors and hope to all those who needed it.

  Simple, right?

  But now that I’m standing here, naked in Sonya’s room, I realize that the plan has become much, much more complicated than I could have ever anticipated happening.

  Because Sonya, right now, is more than just my mother’s trusted confidante. She is more than my co-worker. And most importantly, she is more than the partner I’ve recruited to execute my plan of having a fake wife to gain my mother’s confidence in handing over the reins of the company over to me.

  It’s complicated because once I have the company, I’m going to be using all of the resources to do good. Mother will never approve, we might even have a falling out. But am I willing to let Sonya be part of the collateral damage that will happen between us? She might lose her job because of what I’ve asked her to do for me.

  “Fuck this shit,” I whisper to myself. I quietly gather all of my scattered clothes all around Sonya’s apartment and dress up. Sonya’s still sleeping as I finish dressing. I quickly walk up next to her and kiss her forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear.

  She does not flinch, nor wake. I don’t blame her. I’m surprised I even have the strength to stand up after what happened last night.

  But I guess anxiety and worry can do that to a man.

  I leave Sonya’s apartment while she slumbers, in hopes to find an answer soon to his predicament.

  Fifteen

  Sonya

  The subtle rays of the sun flicker behind my closed eyelids, forcing me to wake from my restful sleep. I stretch languidly in bed, hesitant to part with the warm covers.

  My hands roam across the bed, eager to make contact with Grant's warm skin, only to be met by an empty space beside me. I frown, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness at the prospect of Grant's absence from my bed. Reluctantly, I open my eyes, wishing that Grant is still there. But unfortunately, my wish goes unheard. Grant is nowhere to be seen.

  A huge wave of disappointment descends upon me, weighing heavily on my chest.

  'He left!', my mind shouts dejectedly.

  I sigh, trying to suppress my disappointment. After all, Grant never gave any inclination that what we have is anything serious. He's always been upfront that what we have is a business arrangement, and nothing more. He scratches my back, and I scratch his. However, there's a lot more than back-scratching going on if last night was anything to go by.

  His dick really pounded me good.

  To say that last night was amazing is a gross understatement. I have never, in all my years of existence, experienced anything so mind-blowingly earth-shattering. I can see why women fawn all over him and his sexual prowess.

  One minute, we were enjoying each other's company, the next, we were kissing like there was no tomorrow and fucking like a couple of rabbits. I hate how easily I've fallen victim to his charms. But most importantly, the thought that I'm merely another notch on his bedpost greatly unsettles me.

  I honestly feel conflicted. As great as the sex was, I know that a night of crazy passionate sex is not worth the possibility of heartbreak.

  Despite feeling slightly hurt about being jilted the morning after, I should have seen it coming the moment we both landed in bed together.

  Grant is a playboy. It's no secret. This whole engagement, in the hopes of furthering my own career, is a scam that I willingly went along with.

  I knew of the risks. I set myself out to be professional about this whole arrangement, but I have strayed from the path.

  I need to get back on it. I must instill in me that I must only act professionally with Grant. We'll marry each other, and once we get what we want, we'll go our separate ways. I'll get to be a partner of the company that my idol, Gloria Fields, has built. My work will focus more on designing rather than administrative work, just like I've always wanted. That's it. There's no fuss needed.

  I push away the covers, my body feeling heavy.

  "What a way to start the weekend," I grumble bitterly to myself.

  I should prepare some breakfast before Lauralee wakes up. At the thought of my daughter, I feel a renewed sense of vigor. She's the reason why I'm doing this, so I should wear my big girl panties. She's the only one I need.

  I turn on the stove to fry up some good old-fashioned bacon and pancakes. The smell that wafts the kitchen has me feeling hungry. For a moment, while I concentrate on cooking, I'm able to forget all about Grant.

  "Mommy," I hear my daughter's voice, still sounding groggy from just waking up. I turn towards the kitchen entryway. My daughter, still in her pajamas, is rubbing her eyes sleepily as she comes closer to take a seat at the table.

  "Morning, sweetie," I greet her with a smile. She returns my smile with one of her own. And let me tell you, it's moments like these that make being a mother worth it.

  "Good morning, mommy," she greets back.

  "You woke up early," I say, half my focus on what I'm cooking.

  "I woke up from the smell of pancakes," she smiles, looking eager to have some.

  I chuckle. Pancakes are one of her favorites. I put some pancakes on a plate and place it in front of Lauralee. I put a slice of butter on the stack, and Lauralee's eyes shine excitedly as the butter melts all over the pancakes.

  "Would you like some syrup?" I ask, getting an excited nod in reply.

  I get the bottle of syrup and place it next to the pancakes.

  She grabs on to the bottle and squeezes a good amount of syrup on her pancakes.

  She immediately takes a fork-full, chewing happily before swallowing.

  "Slow down. No one's going to take that away from you," I say, finding my daughter's eagerness adorable.

  She nods, trying to chew some more before swallowing. "Good girl," I say.

  She smiles.

  "I'm sorry, mommy. The pancakes you make are awesome!" she says in between mouthfuls.

  I chuckle, "It's alright, Lauralee."

  I start eating some bacon and pancakes, my thoughts sometimes drifting to Grant.

  I heave a heavy sigh, which catches my daughter's attention.

  "Are you okay, Mommy?" Lauralee says, looking concerned.

  "I'm fine, Lauralee," I tell her, but she looks like she doesn't quite believe me.

  "Where's Grant?" she asks.

  I feel a twinge of hurt. Lauralee is getting too attached to Grant, just like I am.

  Am I doing the right thing? I'm getting my daughter involved in this mess.

  This isn't good. It's one thing if I'm the only one who gets hurt, but my daughter is another. I shouldn't have exposed her so much to Grant. She's going to have expectations. She's still a kid, after all.

  I can tell, with the way she sometimes looks a
t Grant, that she's yearning for a father-figure. As much as I want to give that to her, I know that Grant's not the answer to my daughter's search for a father.

  I don't know what to do. I need to think about it. In the meantime, sticking to being professional seems to be the right choice. If things get worse, I can always back out of our deal.

  "What do you want to do for the day?" I ask, putting on a smile on my face, in an attempt to change the topic. Thankfully, she doesn't ask any further.

  Her face scrunches into a look of concentration. I stare, amusedly at my daughter's thoughtful expression. Her eyes light up, and I can tell that she already has an idea in that little head of hers.

  "How about we go to the pool?" she says excitedly, her eyes shining hopefully.

  I review some of the work that I need to finish in my head. I think I was able to complete my work for the week. I can spend the whole day with Lauralee.

  "Sure thing, sweetie. Let's get our things ready so that we can go to the pool," I say.

  She bounces excitedly, running to her room to get ready.

  Maybe this is what we need, some quality time together, but without Grant.

  Since it's the weekend, there are already a lot of people at the pool. It's a good thing there's an available table with some shade. I put down our things on our table.

  Lauralee is already in her swimsuit and is eager for a swim. I slip on her water wings on her arms and apply some sunscreen on her exposed skin.

  "Remember, don't swim too far," I remind her.

  She nods and goes running off to the pool. I sit down and watch my daughter have a great time. It looks like she's already made some friends her age and is playing with them.

  I sigh, trying to think of how to handle my situation with Grant. It's already noon, and he hasn't even called or texted. Last night meant nothing to him.

  I should put what happened behind me as well. I wish we could have talked about it, though. But since Grant left abruptly, he must not want to talk about it at all. If that's how he wants to play it, then I'll oblige.