Billionaire Bad Boys

by Holly Hart

  Except he’s considerably better endowed.

  I can’t imagine ever seeing another man naked – anyone else would pale in comparison. For a split-second my mind threatens to go to the other contestants in the Chase, but I clamp it down instantly.

  I’m not with one of them. I’m with Carson. And if this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  40. CASSANDRA

  “No fair,” Carson breathes, reaching behind me and clasping my buttocks in his hands. “You can see me, but I can’t see all of you.”

  He slides his thumbs under the lace waistband of my panties and pulls outwards and down. No one besides me has ever taken off my underwear before. The sheer eroticism of it makes me weak at the knees.

  They slide down to my ankles and I step out of them. Carson leaves them hanging on the end of his index finger, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

  “Finally,” he growls. And by God, it is a growl. I can’t believe that the shy – yet handsome – teenage boy I used to debate has become this, this…

  Man.

  I let out a faint shriek of delight as he grabs me and lifts me back onto the bed. He returns his attention to my breast, kissing each freckle one after the other.

  Meanwhile, his hand has found its way home. He uses it to stroke my pussy for a few moments until I can actually feel my lips parting in anticipation. God, that sounds so mechanical. But it’s so goddamn true. If mechanical is what a night with Carson is like, call me an engineer.

  “You’re sure?” he whispers again. I can’t tell whether he’s afraid of my answer, or afraid of pushing me too far. I suspect the latter.

  “Completely sure?”

  I grab his hand and press his palm against my clit. My hips buck in response to his touch.

  “Does that answer your question?” I whisper back to him.

  He keeps his right hand on me as his left works my right breast and nipple. His mouth continues to attend to my left nipple. I lie there with my arm wrapped around his neck, making sure that mouth doesn’t stray from its job.

  I shiver as Carson’s fingers reach my clit, gliding along the lips on either side. After a few moments, he dips the tip of his middle finger inside me.

  My right hand grips his shaft, thumb on the underside, up and down. It’s like I’ve read a goddamn manual. In truth, just doing its job. Still, I go slowly, slowly. I have no idea if this is what I’m supposed to be doing, but judging by his groans, Carson is okay with it.

  A handful of moments later, I feel the beginnings of a wave radiating out from between my legs. Part of it is sheer stimulation, part is the fact that it’s not from my own hand. It’s Carson who’s making me feel this way.

  The intensity builds as Carson rolls his fingers around the circumference of my clit. Each twist brings another vibration, another wave, until I can’t hold back any longer.

  I reach up and grab his neck, pulling myself to him and wedging my chin on top of his rock-like trapezius muscle. I drive my chin deeper and deeper into him with each tremor, as the pleasure waves finally crash against my shore.

  My heart rate gallops as I gulp in air. It’s never been like this on my own. I want it to go on forever, entwined with Carson like this, feeling like this.

  In my spasms, I inadvertently grip his cock tighter and he gasps.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly terrified that I’ve hurt him.

  “So okay,” he groans, lying back on the bed. “You don’t even know.”

  I raise myself up and onto my knees, never letting his cock escape my hand. In the light of the bedside lamp, I see him bite his lip. I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life.

  Now that his bare chest is open to me, I go to work on it greedily with my mouth. I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t care. I kiss every bulge, stopping to flick my tongue along his nipples. Each lap against his skin draws a corresponding throb from his cock in my hand.

  I reach his groin to find that he’s almost bare down there, aside from a few veins lining his muscles. Slowly, deliberately, I inhale his secret scent. I want to know everything about Carson.

  “Cassie,” he whispers, wrapping his fingers in my hair. “Oh, please.”

  I oblige, looking at his cock up close for the first time. I’ve imagined what it would be like, mostly during my one-woman shows in the secrecy of my bedroom. It’s thicker than I would have thought, with narrow veins circling the muscles. A dab of moisture glistens on his tip in the lamplight.

  My tongue starts at the base, flattening against the underside and ever so slowly rising to the tip. Carson’s fingers close in my hair in response. My tongue moves to the sides, first one, then the other. Up and down, up and down.

  After several of these turns, I finally get on all fours and face his cock head-on. My lips close over the tip, and my mind flashes back to Carson’s finger in my mouth that day at the restaurant. God, I wanted him so bad in that coatroom.

  But this is sooo much better.

  He exhales as my mouth explores downwards, my tongue wrapping around the shaft like Cleopatra’s asp. I reach about halfway and can’t go any farther, so I head back up, adding suction as I reach the tip again.

  “Huhhh,” he groans as he reaches up to slide two of his fingers inside me.

  I continue up and down, gripping my fingers around the base to add to his sensations. Again, I’m not getting any complaints, so I must be doing something right. I respond to his touch with slick wetness, lubricating his fingers as they explore my pleasure center.

  We do this for what seems like forever, until Carson finally moves away from my mouth and props himself on one arm. My pussy misses him immediately when he withdraws his fingers.

  “My turn,” he says with a grin.

  He lifts me and turns me in one deft movement, laying me on my back on the coverlet. I reach on either side of me to push it down, revealing the glorious satin sheets underneath.

  Carson drops over me, supporting himself on his elbows, as his mouth explores mine, then wanders over to my earlobe and the hollow that forms where it meets my neck. From there he moves down to my throat, then my breasts again.

  My belly quivers as I realize what’s happening. I’ve imagined this for years, wondering how it would feel.

  I’m going to find out, and with that knowledge my chest begins to rise and fall like the pistons of a steam engine.

  Carson’s lips are on my belly, then the orange fuzz of my groin. He kisses me there lightly, like a butterfly landing.

  I breathe deeply as he reaches his destination. His lips close around the hood of my clit and his tongue greets my lips with a long, slow glide. The tremors begin and suddenly I understand why he had to wrap his fingers in my hair. I do the same with his.

  My hips begin to respond on their own. Raising to meet the pressure of his lips and tongue, pressing against him and the softness there. After about a century of this, Carson’s tongue changes suddenly, become hard and insistent.

  I gasp as my hips buck as the probing tip of his tongue presses against my clit. I can’t hold on anymore, I have to let go.

  Just when I think I might lose my mind, his tongue becomes as hard as any other of his muscles and presses against me with an intensity I couldn’t have imagined even ten seconds ago. The world melts into a riot of colors and feelings as my body heaves and shakes with pleasure.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  41. CASSANDRA

  I never understood how this could feel. You can’t imagine something like this until you experience it. Even my pocket rocket pales in comparison.

  Carson kindly lets me recover my vision for a few moments as he rummages through his pants pockets. Finally he emerges with a foil square in his fingers.

  He comes back to the bed and I reach out and grab the condom.

  “I want to do it,” I say, trying to look like a dirty vamp.

  It must work, because his cock bobs up and down in appreciation. />
  “Okay,” he says, eyes wide.

  I’ve never done this before, obviously, but as Carson pointed out, I’m a very capable person. A quick study, you could say. I tear along the dotted line and remove the disk, leaving the package on the night table.

  Carson kneels in front of me as I drop to all fours on the bed. I grasp his cock by the base and pull him closer. He obliges by shuffling a couple of inches on his knees.

  The tip of his cock is gleaming as I unroll the condom over it. Once it’s past the edge of the head, the edge of no return, I grab hold with my thumb and forefinger and unspool it down to the base. It’s so thin – almost like you can’t even see it.

  That’s the limit of my bravery, though. My belly fills with butterflies as Carson positions himself above me and between my open thighs. He props himself with one hand and guides the tip of his shaft into my opening with the other.

  The sensation of fullness comes over me as he slides slowly into my canal. His eyes are on mine as he moves, watching for my response.

  “Don’t stop,” I beg. “I’ve never wanted anything so bad.”

  God, he’s reduced me to begging. I always swore I’d never do it if I was ever captured. But with Carson? It’s irresistible.

  “Me either,” he sighs as he eases himself the rest of the way in. It hurts, oh God, it hurts. But it’s as though Carson knows exactly what I’m experiencing. He knows when to stop, when to drop his mouth to mine, when to absorb as much of my pain as he can.

  And when I’m done with pain. When what I want – what I need – is pleasure.

  I grip his neck in my arms as he begins to move, slowly, gently. I’m so wet that his girth isn’t a problem. We move in sync with each other, matching each stroke.

  “It’s so good,” I moan.

  With each movement it gets easier, until Carson is thrusting all the way in each time.

  He pushes himself up and leans his weight back until he’s on his knees, his butt on his calves. I let him do what he wants – I trust him to know what’s going to please me.

  He reaches down and curves his sculpted arms under my thighs and lifts them until they’re pointing straight at the ceiling, propped against those cannonball shoulders. I feel him ease in even deeper than before.

  Now the tip of his cock starts to press against the inside of my pelvic wall and a sensation like a bruise of pleasure overtakes me. That’s the only way I can describe it. It doesn’t sound sexy, but it is. Believe me, it is.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp, eyes wide.

  He leans forward slightly and we lock gazes once again, staring at each other’s souls as each thrust lands home. Finally I can’t take anymore, and I throw my head back in abandon. My hands grip the fabric of the plush headboard on the wall behind me and I hang on for dear life.

  “I can’t hold on any more,” Carson grunts.

  My head spins as he picks up speed, pistoning in and out so fast it feels like my body is a machine over which I have no control. A pool of pleasure starts to build its way up from my core like oil into a well.

  I feel my abs contract with every stroke, out of my control, almost like I’m doing sit-ups, until I finally abandon all control and just let my body be assaulted by Carson’s powerful thrusts.

  “Cassie,” he groans. “Oh baby, It’s so good. You’re so freaking good.”

  “Carson,” I pant. “I’ve waited so long. So long.”

  And it’s true. Not that it has been so long, though it has. But that I’ve waited. Because it’s only just now that I’m realizing I’ve been waiting for Carson this whole time. I didn’t realize what I was holding out for.

  As the spasms take over, I grip his triceps with everything I’ve got. We shudder together once, twice, three times. I lie there gulping in air, trying to stop my eyes from rolling.

  Suddenly, Carson wraps his arms around my thighs and grips them together as he drives home one final thrust. I feel like the universe is exploding inside me and around me. We’re as close as two humans can be in a moment, any moment.

  We both let loose with guttural growls from deep inside us. Carson’s head drops backwards like an animal howling to the moon, but he stays silent.

  God, I hope the rooms in the Regent are soundproofed.

  When it’s over, he drops low and covers my body with his. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso, feeling his girth inside me. Our breath mingles into a chorus of gasps as we try to catch our breath.

  I burrow my face into Carson’s neck and nibble on the flesh there. I don’t know why; it’s just instinct taking over.

  We lie like that for what seems like an eternity as our runaway heart rates slow to normal. Carson caresses me gently, rhythmically, all over. The tingle it elicits makes me feel warm all over. Safe.

  Suddenly, from nowhere, the tears start to flow freely, staining my cheeks. I’ve never felt so naked in front of another human being.

  “I’m so happy it was you,” I sob into his ear.

  He takes my face in his hands and kisses me gently everywhere: my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, my chin, my forehead. When he pulls back, I can see the shimmer of tears in his eyes, too.

  “I’ve never believed in God,” he whispers. “But I think I may have just found a compelling argument.”

  I stroke his cheek, unable to stop touching him, even for a moment.

  Finally, he rolls onto his back and we both shift our bodies around so that we’re lying on the pillows. I put my head in the crook of Carson’s shoulder and lay my arm across the vast expanse of his naked chest. Our sweat mingles and dries in the recycled air of the room.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  42. INTERLUDE

  A woman with long, satiny blonde curls glances down at the tiny flashing red light in the top right corner of her smart phone’s screen.

  “Don’t move,” she snarls at the man hanging from the metal rack. He’s covered from head to toe in black leather, except for a small zippered opening where his mouth is. The room is painted entirely in black.

  “Yes, mistress,” he moans.

  “Did I give you permission to talk?” the woman snaps as she sets down a leather cat-o-nine-tails and swipes a scarlet-tipped finger across the screen.

  “C-c-call me sen-sen-senator maggot,” he breathes. “Please.”

  “No,” she says coldly.

  The information on the screen bothers her. She steps away from the dungeon into an alcove and types in a phone number from memory.

  “Yes?” says a voice on the other end.

  “One of the keys has been used.”

  Silence for a long moment.

  “As we feared?”

  “Room 317, yes. The transponder in the ring confirms it.”

  “This is… unfortunate.”

  “I’ll begin the process of rectifying the situation.”

  “Keep me informed.”

  “Of course.”

  She thumbs the phone’s end-call button and types in another number. This time the call is greeted only with a click.

  “You were right,” she says. “You know what to do.”

  Silence. Then a click to indicate the call has been disconnected.

  She ends the call and picks up the leather whip.

  “Wh-who were you talking to?” the man in the leather outfit asks. “Please tell me.”

  “Your mother,” she spits, whipping the backs of his legs with the steel tips of the cat-o-nine-tails. He howls in response.

  “She said you should go fuck yourself.”

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  43. CARSON

  “When I realized you were the quarry, I thought I was dreaming,” I say.

  Cassie sighs and strokes a finger down my chest.

  “I know the feeling,” she says. “When I realized that was a key in your hand and not a weapon, I literally thought the world had turned upside down.”

  “It kind of did turn upside down,” I chuckle. “For me, anyway.”
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  She grimaces.

  “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Sorry? You were like Scarlett Johansson in The Avengers! Except you’re a real redhead.”

  The awkwardness in her smile makes my heart melt. I pull her closer and nuzzle her hair. It’s a forest fire I could lose myself in for good.

  “Think about this for a second,” I whisper. “Two geeky kids, so lame that the only people who would hang out with them were each other. Building scale models of nuclear reactors and talking about Renaissance artists.”

  “I think I remember them.”

  “Now go back in time and tell them that, in a dozen years, one’s going to be a billionaire playboy and the other will be a secret agent.”

  Cassie is quiet for a moment.

  “That’s crazy,” she says.

  “Right?!” I hoot.

  She rolls to her side so she can face me.

  “I’d rather tell them not to lose hope, because they’re going to be together again someday.”

  My heart stops. This girl is so damn perfect.

  “Always have to one-up me, don’t you?” I say.

  She smiles. I pull her close and lay a long, slow kiss on her mouth. Our tongues explore each other, less urgent now, more familiar.

  After our lips part, we look into each other’s faces for awhile, like we’re taking inventory. Okay, those lips are mine, those eyes, check, that freckle, that other freckle. Yup, all mine.

  Cassie turns her head to look up at the ceiling.

  “Holy shit, this is a beautiful room!”

  I don’t remember ever going from post-orgasmic afterglow to full-on horse laughing in such a short period of time, but that’s Cassie for you.

  When we finally manage to rein in our hysterics, she looks at me and shakes her head.

  “That killed the mood a bit,” she says sheepishly. “But I mean, wow! This is incredible. This whole night has been incredible.”