The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “Chris,” I breathed slowly, “what is this about?”

  I turned to face him over the center console even as his hands gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. And slowly, he turned to look at me.

  “Lindy,” he growled in reply. “I wanted to see you again.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at him, my insides flushing.

  “Really?” I murmured. “There are easier ways you know, you could have called instead of coming to my parents’ house at 6 a.m. on a Sunday.”

  And he shook his head as if to clear it again before fixing me with a hot blue gaze.

  “Oh I know what I’m doing,” he drawled. “I just wanted to make sure it got done right.”

  Done right? What was he talking about? I shot him a curious glance and he chuckled deep in his throat in reply.

  “You know, I hear college is really expensive these days,” he drawled, nonchalant. “You making your parents’ proud? Doing well at school?”

  And I colored then because the truth was, college wasn’t going well. I’ve always studied hard, always been a good student, but unfortunately, I wasn’t that good, not in high school and not now. I dunno, maybe I have dyslexia or something but I’m more of a B+/A- student so I wasn’t able to get a very big scholarship, more just pocket money. As a result, my parents were forking over a sizeable chunk this year, and things weren’t looking up for the next three either based on my freshman grades.

  But Chris didn’t know any of that, so I bit my lip.

  “I’m doing okay,” I said quietly. “Yeah, my grades are okay, why?”

  The big man looked at me speculatively.

  “I hear Hudson University’s expensive, that’s all,” he drawled. “Tuition’s something like thirty thou a year right?”

  I colored. It was forty plus living expenses on top of that, and I bit my lip again. Jim and Brenda were paying most of my bills and I knew it was a strain, my parents had taken out a second mortgage because of me.

  So I gulped, looking at the big man again.

  “Why?” I asked quietly. “Is there a scholarship or something I could apply for? Is United Electric sponsoring a grant for students this year?”

  It was possible, sometimes local businesses chose a student to support in return for an internship, maybe as a marketing gig more than anything else. And I’d be a perfect fit, the kid of an employee, I’d grown up in this community with strong ties to the school, to other families, it’d be fabulous advertising for United Electric.

  But Mr. Jones just rumbled in his chest, smiling slightly.

  “Yeah, a little like a scholarship,” he said. “Kind of, but not exactly. Because you know Lindy, I fired your dad last week, gave him a month’s notice but after that he’s gone.”

  I sat stock still, stunned for a moment. What the hell? My dad had been perfectly fine this last week, maybe drinking a little more at night, but he’d made no mention of being let go. And why did Mr. Jones come to my parents’ twentieth anniversary party yesterday if he’d just fired my dad? That was like rubbing salt into the wound, making my dad feel even worse on his special day.

  As if reading my mind, the big man answered.

  “Your dad asked me to come,” he said casually. “I wasn’t going to, but he didn’t want to ruin your mom’s day.”

  And I gasped again.

  “So this entire week, my dad’s been fired and he’s just been putting on a show?” I asked, my cheeks coloring.

  And the big man shrugged.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Jim’s got one month before he’s gone for good.”

  And at that, I began struggling to get out, futilely yanking the latch, trying to unlock the door.

  “Let me out,” I struggled, hissing. “You’re an animal, treating my dad that way, I hate you!”

  But my struggles were futile, the big man had locked the doors and I was stuck inside, the dark tinted windows shielding us, the big silver SUV rock steady even as I thrashed inside.

  “I can’t believe it!” I shrieked again. “You fired my dad!? Jim needs his job, my mom doesn’t work, I’m in school, how could you do that to him?” I cried, my eyes welling up with tears. “How could you?”

  And I was about to throw myself bodily against the door, go crazy and escape somehow, some way, from this confinement. But Chris grabbed my shoulders and turned me to look at him, gazing deep into my eyes, his blue ones piercing, arresting.

  “Listen to me Lindy,” he said roughly, giving me a small shake. “I didn’t want to fire your dad but Jim was stealing from me,” he ground out. “Hear that? Stealing, caught red-handed, admitted the whole thing.”

  And I was stock still now, gazing at the big man with shock, tears streaming down my face now. Stealing? My dad? Oh no, it couldn’t be. But in my heart, I knew it probably was. Times were tight, I was in college now and my brother was starting soon, my parents had two giant mortgages and my mom hadn’t worked in years, she was sick. So yeah, maybe Jim took a little, but it was all for his family, for us. And I choked on my sobs, my tears streaming uncontrollably as the strength went out of my body, my head dropping, the fight dissipating.

  “Oh please,” I said, begging Mr. Jones, and suddenly my hands were the ones grabbing at him and not the other way around. I took his big forearms in my small palms, holding tight onto the muscled strength as if for dear life. “Please,” I pleaded, “give my dad his job back. We’re so dependent on him,” I choked. “I work but it’s just at the coffee shop on campus and you know my brother starts school soon, too, please, Mr. Jones, please.”

  And the big man sighed wearily, sitting back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, ruffling the black strands attractively. I was ashamed, like I was betraying my family even noticing his looks at a time like this, but he was just so gorgeous that my body’s reaction was instinctive, growing soft and desperate in his presence.

  “Please,” I begged again, my hands grabbing one his big ones again, squeezing the square, strong fingers. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just ask.”

  And there was silence in the car, my sniffles the only sound until slowly, Chris turned his head towards me.

  And the fiery burn in his look took me aback, made me catch my breath. Because he wanted something, wanted something that only I could give and I could feel it deep in my bones, deep in my hotly throbbing pussy.

  “Anything?” he growled, his fingers tightening reflexively around mine, boxing in my little palm with his big one. “Anything?”

  And I nodded again, confirming my offer.

  “Anything.”

  And the burn skyrocketed from warm embers to a flaming blaze because suddenly Mr. Jones was ON, his eyes seizing mine, devouring me, his big body tense, hard, in the driver’s seat.

  “Well there is something you could do,” he drawled.

  “What?” I breathed, holding my breath expectantly. “Just tell me, I’ll find a way.”

  And I’m not sure what I was expecting really. The hot session between us had set off a storm in my body, lit me on fire in a way I’d never expected, making me run moist and creamy, but at the same time I was a virgin and ridiculously naïve. So when he said “anything,” I was still thinking along the lines of some casual kisses, maybe a little petting, even some fun with the coke bottle again.

  But Mr. Jones was an experienced man, an alpha male who dominated and gave with no quarter. So his demand took my breath away, never in a million, zillion years would I have expected this.

  “Move in with me,” he ground out. “For ten days, you’ll belong to me, and after that?” he said, his eyes dark, possessive. “Your dad can keep his job.”

  I paused for a moment, my heart fluttering.

  “Mo-move in?” I stuttered, “You mean, cook for you and do some light housekeeping, that kind of thing?”

  As embarrassing as it was to admit it, I kinda wanted more kisses and fondling, exploring this new side of myself, so I was devastated that all he wanted was a glorifie
d maid. Oh god, it was so shameful that I was even thinking this, that I’d been envisioning the big man with his clothes off, learning his body, tracing that massive, thick dick with my hands, my tongue. My imagination had gone completely off the tracks, and I shook myself sternly. All Mr. Jones wanted me for was my cleaning skills, not anything like a girlfriend.

  But that was all put to rest in a second, squashed like a fly. Because in a low rasp, Mr. Jones made his intentions clear.

  “No baby,” he drawled, “Not as my maid. As my fuckdoll.”

  And my face flushed, my body growing hot as my heart pumped a million miles a minute, my cunt growing wet and steamy, the liquid running moistly from my untouched hole. His fuckdoll? As in fuck + doll? Oh my god, oh my god … yes, I wanted it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Chris

  Lindy was so exciting, practically naked again in the close confines of the SUV with me. Because yeah, this car was huge but somehow we’d wound up right next to each other in the front seat, the brunette’s curvy, nearly-nude form pressed up right next to me, making my dick jut out with nothing more than her presence, her nearness.

  Because oh yeah, the teen looked that good even first thing in the morning. She was positively delectable, her brown curls in disarray, a glorious mass down her back, her curvy body covered by nothing but the thinnest of cotton, a nightshirt that was indecent, bra-less, those big boobs jutting out, huge and pendulous. And fuck, but I could almost see her pussy through the cotton, the pink, threadbare material doing nothing to hide those luscious lips, the outline of her puffy flesh practically visible through the filmy material.

  So yeah, my fuckrod was on full attention the minute I saw her, the minute I touched her hand on the porch. And I couldn’t control the animal within, she made me that crazy, that alpha, that I couldn’t even act the gentleman. Because yeah, I propositioned Lindy like she was a whore, and not an innocent teen.

  “A fuckdoll,” I confirmed. “You come to my house, stay with me for ten days, and let me fuck you every which way,” I ground out, never letting go of her eyes, her caramel ones penetrated by my deep blue.

  And she gasped, the color rising to her cheeks, so beautiful, so delicious that I almost spurted right there, almost let it go right there in the cab of the car. But I forced myself down, willing my dick not to give it up so soon, so close to winning.

  And with a slow, trembly inhale, Lindy spoke.

  “Mr. Jones, are you sure?” she whispered. “Because,” and here she paused. “Because I’m a virgin,” she stumbled a bit on the words.

  Now it was my turn to be astonished. A virgin? The teen girl before me was a virgin? How could any woman with a body like hers, the huge tits, the soft, strokable tummy, the luscious thighs and pink cunt, be a virgin for crying out loud? How was it possible that no man had ever breached this beautiful acreage, had never pushed his dick into that tight cunt, never been milked by her inner walls? I practically fell out of my seat but forced myself to stay calm, my breathing ragged even as I stared at her.

  “Baby, is it true?” I ground out hoarsely. “You’ve never been touched by a man?”

  And her blush grew even deeper, spreading to her chest, disappearing below her neckline, making her breasts rosy. Oh god, how much I’d give right now to see those tits, those creamy pendulous orbs quivering before my eyes. But if I played my cards right, they’d be mine and so much more. Because the girl was nodding again, her eyes bright, chin trembling a little.

  “Yes, Mr. Jones,” she said biting her lip. “I’ve never done it before so I’m not sure I could be- be your fuckdoll,” she said, stumbling over the words, as if almost unsure of the correct phrasing. “I’m sorry, is that okay?” she said quickly, her eyes lighting up with worry. “I just wanted you to know first,” she finished quietly.

  And I sat back in my chair, leaning my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes for a moment. Holy shit, this changed everything. Because I was going to be able to use an untouched girl, sample flesh that had never been touched by a man before, teach a girl to love taking dick, scream for my cock night after night. Her cunt would be curved to the shape of my dick, and I wanted to, oh god yes, I wanted to, I wanted to make Lindy mine, imprint her with touch, brand her with my mark before any other man.

  So I sat up abruptly, eyes blazing, taking the teen’s chin in my hand and meeting her gaze intensely.

  “Baby, it’s even better this way,” I growled. “I’ll take care of your body, of you, I’ll make sure everything’s okay,” I promised, my eyes full of emotion. “Just say yes.”

  And the brunette nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

  “Yes, Mr. Jones, yes,” she whispered against my lips, her sweet, scented breath mixing with mine. “I’ll be yours.”

  And I kissed her deeply then, pulled the brunette to me and kissed that pouty, full mouth, searing her lips with mine, imbuing our contact with everything I felt, every hope I had, giving her a preview of our intimate moments to come, her breasts flush against my chest, that sweet, curvy body leaning against mine, so soft, so willing, so womanly.

  “Baby girl,” I murmured into her ear. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

  And the girl sighed against me then, melting into me, giving herself to me fully. And although I was the one supposedly in charge, the one who had all the experience, held all the cards, somehow the situation was careening away from me … and I was in serious danger.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lindy

  I swung my duffel bag and ran down the steps to the kitchen.

  “Hey Mom, hey Dad,” I greeted lightly, “Sorry I have to go back to school early, I know it’s a surprise.”

  And Brenda made a frowny face before leaning forward to kiss me on the forehead.

  “Oh honey,” she sighed, “we barely saw you and now you have to head back so soon? But you just got home.”

  And I nodded, flushing a little on the inside. I was supposed to return for summer school, that was true, but summer session didn’t start for two weeks. I’d fed my parents a white lie about the coffee shop needing extra help during this time, how they needed me to come early to hold down the fort.

  So my parents had nodded sagely, eating it all up, never suspecting that I was moving into Chris Jones’ place for ten days to be his … oh god, I could hardly say it. Fuckdoll. Fuck. Doll. Fuck + Doll. The word made my cunt shiver, the cream begin to drip, my insides moist and hot. Because even the thought of what was about to happen made me grow achy inside, my pelvic region tingling, my knees weak as my pussy pulsed pleasantly. Was I ready for this? Could I do it?

  But even though it was so wrong, so crazy, I felt oddly at ease, which was strange because a chasm gaped between me and the big man. On the one hand, Chris was an alpha male, worldly, in his forties, and my dad’s boss for crying out loud, whereas I was an nineteen year-old girl, untested, naïve, and a virgin no less. There could be no two people more different, with different experiences, outlooks and expectations.

  But the thing is, none of that seemed to matter when it came to Mr. Jones. Not the age gap, not our differing backgrounds, not his abundance of experience or my lack of it. Instead, we’d always seemed okay around each other, casual, friendly, without any crazy awkwardness. And that was part of the reason why I’d agreed to this. Because of course, I wanted my dad to keep his job and only Chris could make that happen, but at the same I felt comfortable around the big man, knowing instinctively that he’d take care of me, make sure everything turned out okay on this wild adventure.

  So with another goodbye to my parents, I skipped down the porch and hopped into my little car. My parents trailed behind me, waving, with no idea that I wasn’t about to make the drive back to school. Instead I was driving twenty minutes to Chris’s house, in the expensive area of our neighborhood, a gated community with huge estates and lavish grounds.

  And as my little Jetta pulled up before Chris’s mansion, second thoughts started screaming into my
head. Here I was, little Lindy in my college sweatshirt and jeans, whereas Chris lived in a huge stone mansion, sculpted grounds perfectly manicured, a fountain tinkling melodiously next to the front door.

  And as if on cue, the big man came out then, casually handsome in jeans that hugged those long legs and a blue t-shirt that showed off his broad chest and thick, strong arms.

  “Hey,” he growled low in his throat, the eye contact between us electric.

  I smiled shyly him.

  “Hey yourself,” I said softly, and like that it was on. His mouth came crashing down on mine as he dragged me into the house, slamming the door behind us before seizing my head between his hands and tilting it for better leverage, to thrust his tongue even deeper into my warm mouth.

  And I loved every second of it, pressing up against him, pushing my boobs against his chest, mewling, squirming, sucking on his tongue as he ravished me, running his hands through my curls, all over my body, tracing my hips, ass, and waist as if they belonged to him.

  Because they did … for the next ten days. But Chris didn’t take me immediately although I was more than ready. I’d been mentally preparing myself to lose my virginity the moment I set foot on his property but instead, he pulled up for a moment, breathing hard, and shot me a smile before lifting me in his arms and striding into the kitchen.

  “You’re gorgeous, baby girl, and I’m gonna be in you soon enough, but first we eat,” he growled.

  I giggled nervlously.

  “No worries, I had a bite at my parents’,” I said, flushing. Even using the word “parents” made me blush, reminded me of how illicit this was, how Brenda and Jim, even now, thought I was merrily driving back to school when actually I was at my dad’s boss place about to lose my virginity.

  But Chris just chuckled seeing my blush, how I turned pink and bit my lip.

  “Baby,” he growled gently. “Don’t feel bad about what we’re doing, it’s natural and we’re two consenting adults. And trust me, I’ll take good care of you, your parents won’t have a thing to worry about financially.”