The Good Twin's Baby
Page 82
My hands run from her shoulders, all the way down her back, and when I get them to her ass, I smack both cheeks at the same time from either side.
I grab onto her ass and guide it back and forth onto my cock. Claire’s head is bowed down in front of her and she’s letting out quiet, short whimpers with each thrust onto my cock.
The more she glides onto my cock, the more she relaxes. Her back arches further allowing me to fuck her deeper.
I place my hands on her shoulders and hold her there while I hump against her ass hard. Her moans grow louder and shriller. She grinds against me, meeting my thrusts as I fuck her.
My cock pulses against her asshole and I come inside her, expelling loads of my cum into her ass. I slow down and pull out of her when I’m finished coming, and I hold her butt cheeks apart and enjoy the sight of the cum slowly leaking out of her hole.
I lower my face to her ass and lick up the cum that’s dripping from her. I reach my hand in front of her and pull her body up, easing her into a different position. She sits up on her knees and tilts her head back.
I push her chin up with my finger and I deposit the cum from my mouth into hers. I know how much she loves tasting it and the unique flavor of her sweet ass on it is something she just shouldn’t miss.
She pushes the cum around her mouth so she could savor it more before swallowing it. She licks her lips and closes her eyes, the taste lingering on her tongue.
Spinning herself around, she grabs my shoulders and pulls me on top of her as she lowers herself onto the bed. I spread her legs with my hands and look into her eyes as I position my cock at her pussy. I want her to feel connected with me more than on a physical level.
She gasps and tilts her head back as I thrust inside of her sweet, wet cunt. I lift her legs with my forearms and push them back against her body as I lean in and hump her. Then she tilts her head back and forth to either side, her eyes now shut tight and biting her lip.
I love watching her as I’m fucking her. Her hands gripping the bed tight, she takes every bit of my cock in stride and is still always so hungry for more.
I grab her left leg and toss it over to the side, laying it on top of her right leg. I hold her hip that’s now high in the air and plow into her from her side.
Her hands reach up to my shoulders and grip into them, her nails digging into my skin. I slow my pace and grind into her cunt nice and hard, letting her feel every inch moving in and out of her.
“Holy fuck, Liam. Don’t stop. Fuck me just like that!” she exclaims to me. She squirms under me, feeling intense new sensations in her pussy as I drill into her.
I start fucking her a little faster, keeping the same motion and she shudders and whimpers at the thrust of my cock. I speed up even more and she arches her back, poking her chest out, her whole body tensing as she cries to me.
“I’m coming!” she shouts. “Fuck, Liam! I’m coming! I’m squirting!”
Music to my fucking ears. I pound into her relentlessly until her cum is sprayed all over the entire lower half of my body and her side of the mattress has a pool of cum on it as well.
Her breathing is shallow and frequent as she tries to catch her breath, recovering from her intense climax. I feel myself getting close too.
My body grows warm and my cock is throbbing and aching, ready for release. I look down at those perky breasts with rock hard nipples, that glistening skin, and most importantly, that satisfied, sexy look on Claire’s face and I let myself go.
I pull out of her quickly and turn her leg back so I’m between her thighs, and as I come, it lands right in the center of her body.
I stroke my cock tight and hard, until every bit of cum shoots out of it. I look at Claire and see that my cum has reached a hell of a range in her body. There’s traces of it on her face, in her cleavage, on her belly button, and on her pretty little pussy.
She smiles as I come down from my high and starts scooping up the cum from each part of her body and licks it from her fingers. She doesn’t stop until she’s licked every drop.
I sigh heavily, a bit fatigued from all the fun. I climb into the bed and lay down next to Claire. I lay out my arm and she snuggles up to me, nestled in the crook of my arm and her head just resting against my chest.
“So, I get that the lingerie looks better on the floor, but I really like how it looks on me too,” she says to me.
“It looks spectacular on you. And you have virtually an endless supply of it, sweetheart,” I return. “Feel free to wear it all the time if you’d like!”
She nestles in further and brings her arm over my torso.
“I think I just might.”
Claire
Life couldn't be better.
All my dreams have been realized.
Epica's doing great. It's still my company but because of our expansion, we’re buying the building next door. It's equally as historic and has a lot of charm.
Being with Liam has changed my life in a lot of ways. For one thing, I consider him my mentor in business. Under his guidance, I've managed to grow my company, keep it financially solid, and yet still maintain the artistic flair that sets us apart.
Epica is and will always remain small. I consider my team the best of the best and by keeping things intimate, we can cater to only the best clients and there's an air of exclusivity around our services.
I'm in Liam's penthouse that I've all but moved into. My stuff is everywhere, and he says that he likes it that way.
We try to spend as much time together as possible while running our respective businesses. The difference with Liam now is that he's become a hands-on boss instead of the distant one he was before. He’s more freely expressing his creativity and he's more apt to give his opinions now.
It's an opinion I'm seeking to get at this time. I find Liam is an excellent sounding board for all my ideas. He has a really sharp eye for design and I value his opinion.
I'm working on my laptop, in his king-sized bed, when he comes in with freshly squeezed orange juice.
"Here you go baby, compliments of the chef."
"He's here?"
"Setting up brunch right now. Shall we eat on the terrace?"
I look out the window and see that it's a beautiful day. The snow has subsided, and the sun is shining.
"It's so gorgeous outside. I wish I could work out there."
"Then why don't you?" he comes into bed and kisses my forehead.
"Okay," I say. "But first, I need your opinion. Look at these new drawings I've prepared for Velvet Luxe. Do you think it looks too busy? Be honest."
He looks at my work and I appreciate the time he takes to go over the details.
"Do you really want to know what I think?" he asks.
"Of course."
"I think you're so good that you don't need my advice. I think you should trust yourself and that solid intuition you have."
I smile.
"Really? No advice?"
"Really. Now come with me to eat on the terrace."
I get out of bed wearing the latest Velvet Luxe design, a black slip with strips of lace cut across it.
"Am I dressed okay?" I ask, wondering if the private chef's still there.
"Don't worry, he's gone. You could come out nude and make me very happy."
I hold his hand and we go to the terrace. To my surprise and delight, it's littered with rose petals. A romantic table's set up with tall candles and flowers.
Liam holds out a plush robe for me to slip into that will block out the cold air. The sun is out and that helps too.
"What’s all this?" I ask. Liam is normally sweet, and he sweeps me off my feet with his grand gestures sometimes, but I don’t recall planning for anything special today. It’s too early for anything anyway.
And then, I see him get down on one knee and it becomes apparent what's happening. The moment I've been waiting for since I was a girl is before me.
"Claire," he says holding out a box containing a very large diamond
ring. "Will you do me the great honor of never leaving my side, being mine forever, and marrying me?"
"Yes!" I say without hesitation. "A million times yes. I love you, Liam. I think some part of me always has, since the moment we met."
His eyes gleam with happiness and satisfaction. He gets up and places the ring on my finger. Then, instead of brunch, he grabs a bottle of champagne from the table and picks me up in his arms.
"I have to consummate this," he says, and I can sense the hunger in his voice.
Our connection is as deep as ever. It's something between us that no one could ever explain. We both feel it all the time as if we're soul mates or something.
I know it's meant to be. I know he's the one and I guess I've always known since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I guess it’s the undeniable connection I’ve felt with him ever since.
Tears stream down my face, and he smiles softly at me.
"Look at you, vulnerable as ever. You're mine, Claire. Let this ring prove that."
He takes me back to the bedroom and I know I can't escape. I’ll never want to escape this intimate connection that we have which defies all words.
I kiss him, and he throws me down on the bed. I can tell, this is just the beginning of our wild adventure together.
Caught On Tape
A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
By Daphne Dawn & Natalie Knight
Copyright 2017 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work intended for adults only.
Want Daphne Dawn and Natalie Knight in your inbox? Get freebies, new release updates, bonus chapters, and more!
Sign up for Daphne Dawn’s newsletter!
Sign up for Natalie Knight’s newsletter!
Todd
I just became the lead story on CNN. Fox News has a therapist analyzing what happened, and TMZ is running the same clip of me over and over, ad nauseum.
It’s all lies, of course. But it doesn’t matter because most people don’t have an appetite for the truth, anyway; in a sense, it’s like an unwelcome guest at a dinner party. What people want is gossip, rumor, and innuendo.
And the media is more than happy to oblige. Anything to goose their fucking ratings.
Jordan Ray, my public relations agent, a man I pay an obscene amount of money―which is most of the money he earns―is sitting across from me. He seems to think I’m in need of some damage control.
We’ve been working together since the day my career took off, six years ago. And the truth is that he has gotten me out of a lot of situations I didn’t think even a fairy godmother could extricate me from. But this time, I don’t agree with how he wants to handle it.
This…this…shit I’m seeing on Access Hollywood―the only thing I can do is scream at the ninety-two-inch screen mounted over the marble fireplace in my office. And I still don’t feel any better afterwards.
Jordan patiently waits, tapping his fingers on the shiny mahogany. It’s obvious from the expression on his face that he has something to say. But I’m not interested in that right at the moment; I’m still pissed off and need to get the anger out of my system.
“Go fuck yourself!” I scream at the screen, loud enough to practically blow it off the wall.
Jordan clears his throat, and I finally stop pacing and join him at the table. I nod, as if to say, go ahead, take your best shot. And he does.
“I tried to stop you. You couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Jordan yells as he stands and begins pacing the length of the room.
I’m so not in the mood to listen to this. I want to walk around the table, pick him up by the lapels of his thousand-dollar suit and toss him out the window.
Yeah, I know, he’s my best friend and the best PR man in town. I also know I’m lucky to have him. But what he’s telling me to do…it just doesn’t work for me.
“Jordan,” I say in my most commanding voice before giving a slight look at the chair.
It’s all I need to do. With that one gesture, I communicate that he needs to shut up, sit down, and listen to me―I’m an actor, so I know how to command any situation. I’m good at what I do, and he stops and sits.
“So, how bad is it?” I ask.
“Bad” is Jordan’s terse reply.
“I’m gonna need more specifics,” I say. “On a scale of one to ten, where are we at?”
Jordan places his hands on the desk and looks into his palms as if the answer will magically write itself in the air in front of me. “I’d say you need to lay low, leave town, go visit a sick relative, go on vacation, take some downtime. That bad.”
“Fuck,” I shake my head, “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t look that way— “
“Make this go away,” I interrupt him before he can say anything else. “Are you keeping up with me here? I need you to have this entire saga dry up and disappear.”
“It will be much easier if you aren’t around, where the paparazzi can follow your every move,” Jordan responds.
I just stare at him in disbelief.
“You’re a distraction, Todd. We just need you out of the picture for a while if we’re going to do our job.”
This doesn’t sit well with me. Jordan knows what really happened, and he needs to figure out a way to get the truth out, not the version of the ‘truth’ that’s playing all over TV and YouTube. I’m fed up. Enough.
“Just make it go away!” I yell and storm out of the room.
Walking down the long corridor of my penthouse apartment, I glance at the dozens of photos of me hanging on the walls.
Six years ago, I was a struggling actor. Now, I’m on top―and when you’re on top, there’s always someone who wants to take you down. But I’m not going quietly.
Not me.
I yank out my phone and give a good hard swipe to the right. Pulling up my Twitter feed, I can see it’s not good. “Damn, word spreads fast.”
I can’t believe it. It’s a hashtag fiesta: #ToddSucks, #LoserTodd, and what instantly becomes my personal favorite, #CLIT, which apparently stands for, Chump, Loser, Idiot, Todd.
“Assholes... don’t these people have anything better to do with their time?” I say to no one.
With my eyes glued to the screen, I walk into my bedroom and slump to the floor at the foot of my bed, still scrolling through my feed.
Jordan knocks on my door.
I turn and scream, “Go away, and don’t come back until you fix this!”
There’s silence from the other side of the door, so I know he gets that I’m dead serious.
“In case you don’t know how I feel, let me break it down for you. The media, collectively and individually, are a bunch of hairy sleaze ball suck eggs, with a fucking twisted sense of the truth. You and I both know that tape has been edited to make sure I look bad.”
“I know, I know,” Jordan says, obviously trying to placate me.
“Then go away and do your fucking job.”
I really have had enough of this bullshit. It’s time to change my mood, and there’s only one way to do that: change of atmosphere.
I jump up, strip off my clothes, and head for my walk-in closet.
I gotta admit, sometimes this is my favorite place in the apartment. I had it built to my specifications when I moved in.
I gave up one of the bedrooms to make sure it was big enough to accommodate all my clothes, a couch, and a work out bench. This six-pack didn’t come in the mail.
I give a pat to my flat stomach, “All muscle, baby,” I say to my reflection in the full-length mirror.
“He thinks I’m okay with laying low,” I mutter to myself, looking through my built-in drawers “Yeah, right…go on vacation, as if.”
I push a button that brings the revolving clo
thes rack to life.
“Disappear? Fuck that! The only place I’m going is out,” I push the button again, the rack stops, and I rip a pair of jeans off their hanger.
Finally dressed, I check my reflection again from head to toe: black V-neck tee, jeans, and boots. I have to admit, I look good―like I always do.
I reach for my phone. Flipping through my options, I see a number that makes me smile, and push it.
“Hey, baby, let’s go get something to eat.”
Sophie
Alice is tugging at my shirt.
“Now, Sophie, now.”
I finish typing the text message to my mother. As usual, she’s agitating me to firm up plans for our proposed lunch next week.
“You’ll miss it,” Alice tugs harder.
With a sigh, I put the mobile down and roll my eyes.
“I don’t even know if I want to see it,” I start and reach for my mug of coffee.
“Of course you do.” Alice corrects me, and I laugh.
“No, I don’t. And I really don’t think I want to work with him either. From what I’ve read on social media, he’s a prima donna of the highest caliber, not to mention rude…”
“Shush,” Alice puts her hand over my mouth.
Luckily, she’s been my best friend since way back; otherwise I might have objected.
The television screen is filled with none other than Todd Alexander: current mega star and bad boy.
“Turn it up, I can’t hear.”
I lift cushions off the couch, push Puff the cat off, and find the remote to the TV. As I turn it up, we can hear Todd’s angry voice. A close up of his face shows his eyes narrowed and his lips tightly draw into a thin line.
“You’re nothing,” yells Todd at a little Italian man who is holding up a tea towel. “Who the fuck do you think you are, wog boy?
“I don’t give a shit about your money. So what if you can afford this place? Why don’t you do us all a favor and crawl back down into that hell hole you crept out of.”