Big Bad Billionaires

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Big Bad Billionaires Page 57

by Naughty Aphrodite


  “Lie down,” I whisper to him.

  It’s the first time he opens his eyes. “Are you sure?” he says, figuring out my intentions.

  I nod.

  He slowly lies down, his legs shut. A moment later, I get on my knees and start kissing his knee, then the inside of his thighs, breaking open the gap between his legs until I’m right in front of his dick. I pull down his boxers; I catch a glimpse of him staring me.

  That’s the last time I’m holding back.

  I swallow the tip of his cock and cup his balls with my hands. He’s pretty big, making me gag sometimes, but soon I’m able to take him all in. It must have been too long since he has been with a woman because Adam starts moaning loudly, the balls moving in the ball sack.

  He isn’t holding back anymore either; he starts thrusting his manhood in and out my mouth fast. I’m using my hand to rub the shaft of his dick while my mouth is covering the tip of his red head.

  “God...don’t stop,” he says, moaning. “Please...don’t stop. I’m close,” he repeats, each time with increasing intensity. “I’m close. Yes... God... Yes, yes...I’m coming!”

  The last part is a mix of inarticulate muffling and deep moans. A thick stream of cum fills my mouth and I’m doing everything I can to swallow it. I haven’t done this for anyone before, not even for Ray. Adam is the first guy to ever make me want to satisfy him more than myself.

  When he’s over, I look at him gasping; his face is full of sweat and he seems pretty beat.

  But that’s before I notice his green eyes again. “I want you,” he says.

  I giggle, unable to hold back. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to continue, you don’t have to push yourself.”

  He’s serious, a cocky smirk flashing on his face. “Georgia, I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want you now.”

  And after saying that, he helps me get up and makes me lie on the bed He helps me get off my clothes and immediately starts kissing my breasts. However, unlike my past lovers, he’s doing it softly, like he’s afraid he’ll bruise me if he goes harder.

  Every time his soft lips touch my skin, I get wetter. And that’s even before he gets to my nipples.

  “Hmm,” I mumble, moaning, unable to speak.

  His facial hair tingles me, but when he’s above my nipples, my lust for him becomes worse. I want him inside me as soon as possible and I’m trying to claim him by rubbing my naked pelvis on his erect cock. He quickly responds.

  Without even watching, he positions himself and starts pushing his dick inside me. I’m so wet that it isn’t all that too difficult for him to find his way in there. His scorching hot cock is rubbing my vulva, intruding my vagina. I can feel the walls inside me clenching him, pulling him even deeper.

  “Harder,” I mumble to him; he quickly replies to my command with an action. “Ah! God! Yes. That’s it,” I say loud.

  He’s deeply enthralled, unable to speak; he sometimes growls like a wild animal, but I’m too occupied with my own pleasure to notice. I feel him getting in and out fast, changing angles, making me feel like I’m flying to heaven.

  “I’m close,” he says again.

  In my mind, hearing him say that so fast after he has just come once feels like the most sensual thing he could have said to me. That means he wants me, that he really wants me enough to keep on going.

  I hear him moan, feel him going faster until he pulls out of me. With a stifled cry, he comes on the bed sheets next to me. For a moment, I think that this is it, but Adam never ceases to surprise me. Knowing I still haven’t had an orgasm, he returns and puts his tongue on my delicate parts.

  His tongue inside me after the most intense fuck I’ve ever had feels cool, intruding, and unbelievably intimate. I can’t hold back.

  “Hmm, yes. Go on. Yes, yes...” After that part, I don’t remember what I was saying, except that I was almost screaming in pleasure.

  The orgasm came to me fast like an explosion in my guts. It traveled to the highs and lows of my body, making me feel even closer to Adam, to his senses, his body, his thoughts.

  And in that minute of utter enjoyment, I stop thinking until I lay over his chest exhausted.

  Chapter 6

  It has been a week since I’ve returned from New York. It was a fun, relaxing trip, but somehow I feel like a grown woman now that I’m back. And I owe everything to him, the mysterious Adam, the man who vanished the same way he appeared.

  I unlock the door to my apartment and get inside. It’s ten days since the incident of the cheating ex. I take a walk around the rooms, trying to make a quick assessment of the damage, both literal and metaphorical. Everything is exactly like I’ve left it. The carpet in the living room has the same spot from the coffee I tossed at him when he was trying to explain things to me; the broken pieces of the vase his sister brought us as a present are still on the floor; the bed sheets are still full of his...mark.

  “Wow. I know he was an asshole, but this goes way too far.”

  I leave my luggage by the door and toss the keys on the stand below the hallway mirror.

  “First things first: I have to clean up this place to get rid of his filth.”

  The next couple of hours I’m moving between the rooms, wiping away the dust, putting my things in order, throwing away everything that reminds me of him. After doing the basics, I make sure I rub the coffee spot off the carpet (at least, everything that can be rubbed after so long) and change the sheets on the bed.

  I stand for a moment thinking if I should wash them first and then throw them away, or just throw them away? I remember a place close to my work where I can donate clothes and other things for the homeless and those in need.

  “Well, bed sheets aren’t much, but maybe someone else will be able to find happiness with those,” I say and take them to the washing pile.

  After that, I’m spending another hour putting the luggage away and when I’m done, I have a distinct feeling that I’ve forgotten something important. Simultaneously, my stomach starts growling.

  “Shit. I haven’t been to the grocery store yet,” I mutter to myself.

  I put on my coat and my favorite scarf and head outside. The cool air of the city reminds me the time Adam and I were walking on the Times Square, a week ago. A smile appears on my face. We could have had something. We could have been great.

  But, he chose his sorrow over our joy.

  After the hot night we’ve had together, I lied on him exhausted and fell asleep in mere moments. I didn’t wake up until late the next morning. I must have been pretty wasted to not hear him get up and walk out. Still, when I realized it, I thought he had just returned to his room to have a shower or something.

  I had a shower myself, put on a change of clothes, and head to the hallway. When I opened my door, I saw the cleaning cart of a housekeeper outside. Adam’s hotel room was open and looked...empty. I rushed to the reception and made one question:

  “Excuse me...did the man in the room 406 check-out already?”

  The receptionist smiled at me and nodded. “Yes. The man left early in the morning.”

  I was standing there with my heart broken, almost ready to burst into tears, when the woman behind the counter talked to me again.

  “Excuse me, miss. He also said to pass this letter to you if you ever came searching for him.”

  The receptionist smiled at me, probably a romantic one herself. I grabbed the letter from her hands, thanking her in the meantime, before rushing back to my room. I tore it open only to see a two-lined message:

  “I wish I could shoulder your pain, Georgia, but I was afraid I would have hurt you worst if I have stayed. I’m sorry.”

  And just like that, the dream that was Adam left from my life. But, instead of filling bitter, I’m feeling glad that I met him. He showed me that life and love aren’t in our control. We do our best to tame them only to bruise ourselves in the process.

  I wish I could have seen him once again; that way, I could have said to hi
m that I forgive him and that I understand. But now, we’ll both keep on living with the regrets of all the things we left unsaid between us.

  Walking lost in my thoughts makes the trip to the grocery store short. I get inside and grab a basket from the side of the entrance. I start strolling around, picking up vegetables and fruits. I have no idea what I’ll cook today, only that I’m in no mood to hold back like I used to.

  I know I have to lose these extra pounds around the waist, but after the past month, I think I deserve a cheat day.

  I’m making my way to the checkout when I notice the figure of a tall man walking towards me. I stop and wait for him to pass before taking my place in the growing line for the cash register. However, no matter how long I wait, the man doesn’t walk by.

  When I decide to raise my eyes, he has already taken the final step separating us.

  “Georgia,” Adam whispers in my ear while he’s drowning me in his deep hug.

  I’m muffled by his big muscles and the fact I can’t believe that he’s here. From all the places in the world, he’s here next to me. I take a step back and look at him.

  “What are you doing here?” I say at once. “How did you find me?”

  He looks equally surprised. “I’m staying a couple streets from here. This is my hometown. What are you doing here?” he continues.

  “This is unbelievable,” I say, bursting into a loud laughter. “I live a couple of streets from here, too. It’s like someone desperately wants us to be together,” I sputter at the spur of the moment.

  After I realize what I’ve just said, I cover my mouth and keep mumbling: “Nonono. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  However, Adam starts smiling as well. “Why? Don’t you want to be together with me?” he suddenly asks me.

  I freeze for a moment. I don’t know what to say to him. I might have forgiven him but that doesn’t change the fact he has already given up on us once. What has changed now? Why trust him after what he has done?

  “I want to be with you,” I start saying, “but I’m afraid that I’ll be overshadowed by her ghost.”

  The store clerk is watching us now, and an old lady is holding her breath behind us. For them, we’re a walking episode of a soap opera show. But my thoughts are honest and so I hope his answer will be.

  He passes his fingers through his hair and sighs. “You’re right. I’m not worthy of your love. I’m too weak. But I can’t stop thinking about you, Georgia. Since New York, you are the only thing that passes through my mind. ‘What would she had said?' or ‘What she eats for breakfast?' When I left you, I thought I had lost you for good, but now that I found you again, I won’t do the same mistake twice.”

  By the time he is over, my eyes have filled with tears once again. I want to say something to him, but the words don’t seem to come. What if he’s wrong? What if I’m not ready to continue? Maybe destiny isn’t enough to conquer all in the end.

  “For god’s sake, say yes to the guy or I’ll do it,” the old lady suddenly says behind me.

  Only then I realize what a fool I am.

  “Well, you’ve heard the lady,” I say, a smile covering my face. “If I don’t do something, you’re all hers.”

  A grin slowly blooms on his face, making him look cute and sexy at the same time. Adam gets up on his feet and moves straight to her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but she is the one meant for me,” Adam says to the old lady and after that turns and kisses me.

  When his lips touch mine and I get a sense of his sweet scent, the one that made me fall for him the first time, I feel like the pieces of the puzzle have come together at last.

  I don’t know what will happen between us, but for as long as it lasts, I’ll make sure our relationship is full of support and understanding. We both have been hurt, had our hearts broken and that’s where our strength lies. We shall be there for each other, caring and loving until our wounds heal for good.

  Until then, let’s hope destiny continues playing its twisted games with us.

  THE END

  Craving Them Both

  Chapter 1

  Leona tossed her cascade of glossy, red curls over one shoulder and leaned in close to Miranda, who puckered her lips and held up a pair of richly embroidered platform shoes for the selfie.

  “And that’s going straight to Instagram. Tilly is going to be so jealous we found these Jimmy Choo before her,” Leona grinned as she typed frantically on her iPhone.

  “Oh my God, she’ll totally flip,” Miranda agreed, stroking the shoes reverently.

  “But seriously. If platforms have to be back in style the least the designers can do is make them this pretty, am I right?” Leona opined, tossing the phone back into her leather Gucci bag.

  “You’re always right, Leona,” Miranda looped an arm through Leona’s as the two girls strutted through the enormous shoe store. “Jesus Christ,” Miranda whispered suddenly, clutching Leona’s arm as they rode the escalator back down to the second floor, “would you look at him? I swear I come every time I see him.”

  “Don’t be gross, Miranda,” Leona replied without tearing her eyes away from the handsome man looking at loafers. “Let’s go say hello.”

  The two women hopped off the escalator and honed in on the oblivious young man. Their target was wearing a wine red button-down shirt that highlighted his olive complexion and brought out the highlights in his dark hair, which he kept sweeping out of his eyes with one hand as he examined the shoes. Unaware that he was being watched, he frowned down at the leather shoes in his hands, wetting his full lips with the tip of his tongue. Miranda moaned softly and Leona elbowed her in the ribs.

  “Hi, Marco!” said the redhead, with an impish smile that made most men weak in the knees.

  The gorgeous brunette looked up, startled. “Oh, hey, Leona. Miranda,” he nodded at her friend then turned back to Leona, his eyes quickly sweeping up her body before returning to her face. “Have you guys had any luck?”

  Miranda held up the box with her prized Jimmy Choo and Leona laughed. “It’s not a matter of luck, Marco,” she corrected him. “It’s a matter of skill.”

  Marco chuckled, “A skill that I just don’t have, apparently. I should have just let my sister buy me a new pair like I usually do.”

  “Well, why don’t you let us help you?” Leona smiled. “We’re not doing anything.”

  Marco shook his head. “That’s really kind, Leona, but I actually have to get going. I have a fundraising committee meeting to get to. Maybe next time,” he smiled. Tossing the loafer back on the rack, he gave the girls a heart-stopping smile before jumping on the escalator to the first floor.

  Leona pouted, plopping herself down onto one of the overstuffed sofas. “Ugh, I’m starting to wonder if he’s gay,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “What? No way,” said Miranda, joining her on the sofa. “He was totally checking you out.”

  “That’s what I thought. But why doesn’t he ever agree to go out with me? You know, I asked him to drinks last week and he said he was flying out that night to Africa. Who passes up a chance to sleep with me for Africa?”

  “So weird,” Miranda agreed. “Don’t worry, Leo. You’ll get him. No one’s ever turned you down. I mean, look at you. Why would they?”

  “Right?” Leona huffed, slumping. “I’m fucking gorgeous.” And she was. No man to date had been able to refuse her long, tanned legs, full breasts, and seductive, sea-green eyes. Leona stood up. “Whatever! Let’s go for to that new juice bar and find some pretty man to buy us lunch. I’ll get Marco eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “You go, girl,” said Miranda, rising to join her friend.

  ***

  Marco hailed a taxi and was soon watching the streets up the Upper East Side glide by as the yellow cab wove between the large, glistening, imported cars of the Manhattan’s richest inhabitants. As he looked out the window, his thoughts wandered back to Leona Gary and the way she bit her lip when she lo
oked at him, her green eyes peeping up through thick, dark lashes. She was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever met. She was also one of the most spoiled.

  He didn’t know her very well, but Leona and his sister Alessandra shared most of their friend circle and Ali was constantly complaining about Leona’s ridiculous behavior. Nobody seemed to be able to say no to her – not even her parents. Marco might have been rich, but he didn’t take his family’s wealth for granted – he was all too aware how hard his father and grandfather had worked to make it - and he didn’t have a lot of patience for those of his peers who spent their lives buying endless impractical clothes, swearing eternal allegiance to new fad diets, and taking constant selfies. While this attitude saved him from a lot of inane conversations, it also meant that he didn’t have a lot of close friends here in New York.

 

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