Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day

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Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day Page 66

by Sierra Sparks


  “Mariah and I met in college,” Jane says only partly answering my question.

  “Where we still are,” Mariah adds.

  Jane shrugs. “These two are brothers,” she continues, pointing out both Alex and Paul. “If you couldn’t tell. We met them when Mariah and I auctioned ourselves off at the Club last Christmas.” Jane continues blushing. No doubt thinking back on her romantic night after the Exchange Club. “If we hadn’t done that none of us would ever have met.”

  Jordan clears his throat, desperately trying to cover up the sound of his chair squeaking. “Alex is my friend from high school,” he says, bringing out a bit of punk to shield him. “That unshaven yeti over there has been riding my ass for nearly as long.”

  Paul throws a piece of his torn-up straw wrapper at Jordan. “Well, I had to keep my brother safe from an herb dealer,” he says, obviously trying to start something.

  “Grower,” Jordan snaps, as I take that moment to fully cup his balls and play with his head through his pants. He sighs shakily under this but keeps his mask up. “And all the stuff I did in high school was just prerequisites to be the best around. Thanks to my extra curricular activities and Colorado's legalization, I have over a billion to spend on making dreams come true for those who can’t.”

  I am genuinely shocked. Not by the fact that he’s a billionaire. After all, he spent $3 million on me. But what surprises me is that he would spend at least that and more on making other people’s lives better. It seems my sweet boy is a kind-hearted philanthropist.

  I place my hand on top of Jordan’s cock now, gently squeezing and stroking the shaft and head. Not surprisingly, it’s grown hard.

  The waitress brings Jordan and me our coffees. Something we both dig into immediately. Sip at, though Jordan gulps more than he sips. Probably in an effort to distract himself from the movement of my hands. The quicker, more persistent strokes I’ve employed on him.

  “So you help people out who are in need?” I ask, turning to face Jordan.

  “When I can,” he replies lowering his eyes as if he’s embarrassed. “I help people who aren’t in a position to help themselves.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Paul says, hungrily eyeing other people’s food as it goes to their respective tables, and not in front of him, “but Jordan’s still a punk.”

  While I’ve felt quite at home with everyone here at the table — like we might get along well with each other if we spend more time together — this comment of Paul’s sets me sideways. Has me momentarily pausing in my tender love and care of Jordan from under the table.

  “And just what do you mean by that?”

  Paul isn’t the least bit fazed by my stern glance. He’s definitely not my kind of guy.

  “Well, I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about, Miss Bianca,” he drawls. “I bet he gave you plenty of attitude, plenty of uncultured attention last night.”

  “And how do you know that?” Anger wells up inside me.

  Surprisingly, though, Jordan doesn’t seem to go soft under this exchange. Under the less-than-favorable review he’s getting from Paul, he’s actually getting harder.

  Paul takes the straw from his water glass and gestures with it. “By sleeping with him, I’d assume? I can't imagine someone like him knowing what to do with someone like you.”

  "Cool it, bro," Alex warns

  The girls actually suck in their breath. Look at me like I’m the new alpha female in their group.

  This time Paul looks a little contrite. But not nearly enough. So I say, “Unless you have experience in what you’re talking about, I suggest you refrain from commenting on how he was or wasn’t with me last night.” I take a big swig of my coffee. “I’m the only one who would know. And even if he was a bit of a punk — even if he did give me some attitude, some ‘uncultured’ attention as you call it — I liked it. I like him just the way he is.” By this point, I’m about ready to spring out of my seat and tie Paul to his.

  Jordan, on the other hand, is about to spring right out of his pants. His cock is hard enough to hang something on, even covered up by his boxers and jeans.

  When Paul offers no rebuttal, no come back, Jordan clears his throat. He gets up in the next second, bringing me to stand close to him. To shield him some. “Sorry, guys,” he says, looking at his watch, “it looks like we’re, uh, out of time. We — we have other plans, so, uh, we should get going.” Jordan tugs me with him. Practically runs through the maze of tables crowded with people, all the while trying to shield his erection from them. “We’ll meet up with you guys later,” he calls back, as we get closer to a side door. “Like for lunch, or something, okay?”

  Jane’s the only one to shout back. “Okay, Jordan! You and Bianca come join us at the café around one.”

  “Sure,” Jordan shouts back. Even as he tries to keep his voice steady, I hear it shaking. Along with the rest of him. “The one on the second floor of the lodge?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jordan nods, immediately turning to escape through the doors. The ones meant for the waiters and waitresses, but Jordan’s beyond caring right now.

  And if he doesn’t care, neither do I.

  We both just want to get out of here as soon as possible.

  Chapter 16 – Jordan

  It seems like an eternity, but finally, Bianca and I escape the watchful eyes of the restaurant through a side door. One probably used for servers and other staff, but I don’t care. My heart’s racing out of my chest. My dick’s about to explode out of my pants. I'm so hard. Swollen by the thoughts of how Bianca defended me. Her words to Paul. How biting and unapologetic they were.

  As I pull her behind me, running toward her room, I know I’ve never felt like this about anyone the way I feel about her. I’ve never wanted to corner her and get my hands all over her the way I do right now. Even as I move, I can’t get those thoughts or images out of my head. Of me taking her here and now. Of me devouring her, obeying her commands in the hallway.

  I take a deep breath, evaluating my options for here and now. As it is, I don’t think I’ll make it back to her room. Or mine. Already, my cock is threatening to spill its load and we haven’t done anything yet.

  This must be how Alex and Paul felt when they met Mariah and Jane. If those two made them this wild, I can understand now why they would run after them without thinking. Why they would do anything and everything to keep them. I would do the same for Bianca. In a heartbeat.

  "In here," I say, spotting a set of double doors.

  We dart into a banquet hall near the kitchens. It’s empty now, save for tables with chairs stacked on top, and domed platters and fancy napkins laid out, as if expecting company later. Cutlery too, but I don’t care to think about how soon other people might be in here. Or that they might be eating off those utensils. Because I’m gonna eat Bianca. I’ll have all of her right here, right now, regardless of who else might be wandering by.

  Quickly, I move her in front of me, so her butt rests against my crotch, and walk her briskly to a nearby wall. As I do, I kiss her neck and wrap my hands around her waist. Gripping it so I’m able to guide her exactly where I want her.

  Once against the wall, I kiss her shoulders. Neck. Cheeks, then I nibble those same places, letting her hear the hunger, the need, the desire in my growl.

  “Oooh, damn, woman,” I say huskily, “allowing me to touch you like this…you must want me to devour you.”

  Bianca gasps. Giggles deeply, as I press my teeth into her earlobes. “Go ahead, wild boy,” she says, pushing her butt into me. “Give your mistress what you've got.”

  I mimic a Jaguar growl. A purr. I dart one hand under her shirt and undo the clasp on her bra. It pops away with ease, and I waste no time in cupping her large, firm tits. Unlike many others I’ve felt up, these are natural. No silicone anywhere, and I let her know how much I appreciate them. I massage the hell out of her breasts, and say, “are you sure you want me to be wild and not good, Bianca?” I fond
le her nipples. Pinching and caressing her stiff and hard knobs under my fingers. “You might not like me when I’m wild.”

  To this Bianca backs herself into me more. Grinds her hips and ass against my hard cock and whispers, “oh, but I do.” Her voice is deep and gravelly, and in response, a small bit of liquid seeps from my cock. “I do like you wild, Jordan.”

  She leans her head back toward me, trying to bite my lip. My earlobe. “Don’t hold back. I’m your mistress and you have to listen to what your mistress wants. And right now, she wants you to take control. She wants you to be naughty and wicked and a very bad boy.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  With that, I push her into the wall a bit more and shove my other hand down her pants and into her underwear. Once there, I snake my fingers past her lips, and rub and stroke her clit. My movements are harder and faster than my tongue was last night.

  But that’s when I had to be her “good boy.” She said she wanted me wild, so she’s getting a thorough, rough fingering right off the bat.

  I rub her head. The sides, her lips, doing it in such a way that she has to hear how noisy her soaked pussy is in the quiet room. I jiggle my finger against her clit. She gasps. Moans. Growls at me.

  In response to this, I give the head of her clit some attention by moving her hood back and forth. Lightly. Gently, before going back to stroking its hot, fat body.

  As I reach the base of her dagger, I ease my fingers into her pussy. Straight into her slobbering, goopy hole. One that’s left her inner thighs wet and slick.

  Bianca laughs happily, widening her stance and opening herself up more for me. She even grinds against my hand, almost daring me to lose myself in my pants.

  “I know what I want now, Jordan,” she says hotly. She sucks in a sharp breath as I take my fingers out of her pussy and rub and flick her clit patiently.

  “Oh yeah?” I murmur, fidgeting with the front of my pants so my cock can breathe. “And what does my lady want?”

  “I want your cock up my ass,” she says. It’s without hesitation. Without the slightest hint of embarrassment. “Now.”

  Her command hits me deliciously in my shaft and balls. How I don’t lose myself right then and there — ejaculate all over my boxers and jeans — is by sheer force of will. Of me deliberately putting my attention on preparing her for just what she’s asked for. Anal.

  I immediately move the hand that’s been in her pussy to the waist of her panties and slacks, pulling both down unceremoniously. In seconds, her pussy and ass are both exposed. Perfect in their small and shapely form, they beg me to be pleasured. Fucked. Particularly her ass, which is still partially obscured by the end of her blouse.

  “Have you ever had it in your ass before, Bianca?” I ask this, enjoying the tremble I see go through her butt cheeks. The quiver.

  “No,” she says bravely. “But I’ve always wanted it. I’ve always wanted to try with the right person, wild boy.”

  I place the fingers I had in her pussy inside my mouth. I moan like I’m sucking a tasty lollipop. And I am. She tastes sweet. Like chocolate wine, or coffee and sweet bourbon.

  Getting her ready for my dick, I do a test penetration into her ass with one finger. She flinches but shows no true nervousness. Just awareness of me in her. I introduce another finger. This is more to lube her up rather than stretch her.

  I ease my fingers from her clutching hole and spit in my palm. I rub the saliva around on the fingers I intend to widen her with. It drips seductively off those fingers as I put them once again into her ass.

  This time, as I put my fingers in, she’s not as tight. Not as resistant to my presence. I push deeper, feeling her tense up. She moans softly but doesn’t complain. A nice change from other girls I’ve done this with.

  They usually freak out by now, despite sounding so brave initially. They usually say things like they’re not going to make it, or they’re going to rip or something.

  But not Bianca. She welcomes my fingers. She wants my fingers. Craves my fingers.

  “Well, my lady, as you probably already feel, it’s not like having your pussy filled. It’s tighter. Naughtier. Dirtier.” I accentuate this last word with a slow, steady movement back and forth. “But I’ll be happy to show you the joys of it.” While I speak, I move more deliberately. More of what my actual rhythm will be when I introduce my dick. But unfortunately, my cock will have to wait a while longer. As it is, it's already threatening to blow. More liquid oozes from the tip, but I don’t let my needs distract me from pleasuring Bianca.

  After just a little exercise, her hole is eagerly clinging to me. Kissing me as I move.

  And Bianca is already in love with what I’m doing. She’s panting heavily. Her body temperature has spiked, making her scent even more delicious. Musky. Sweet.

  “Get ready for me,” I say, drawing my fingers out swiftly, and admiring the twitch of her asshole. The shudder it gives is as if already missing me. “If I’m going too fast for you — if I’m making you take too much right off the bat — please tell me, my lady.” I kiss her neck, finally reaching down to unzip and free my beast from his cage. The moment my cock no longer has a zipper or cloth containing him, it flies free. Bounds forth, savoring the sight of her. “You may be letting me run wild, but I still have to treat you right.” As I say these words, I fish around in my back pocket. Now I know what Bianca put there as we left the hotel room for breakfast this morning.

  I tear the condom wrapper open and roll the rubber on, adding, “if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be your good boy.”

  “And you’re such a good obedient boy,” she says sounding shaky.

  I spread Bianca’s ass cheeks wide, enjoying the big, open-mouthed pucker her hole gives. Already wet and shiny with anticipation. Glistening with my spit.

  I spit on my hand again, this time getting as much saliva as I can. A good portion of it goes on to the tip and body of my condom while what’s left goes to further lube and tease the hole I’m about to enter.

  “I’m gonna put my dick in you now,” I say. “Are you ready for me?”

  Bianca nods, and blows out a loud breath. She must be feeling the same way I did last night just before she flogged me for the first time. A little nervous, mostly excited. But definitely in a zone.

  With permission, I rear back some. Align myself straight with her opening and then ease toward the happy little pink ring that’s shivering in the air. Under my fingers. As my head meets her tight ring and breaks through, dizziness engulfs me. I’m lightheaded and euphoric at her body's welcome.

  Bianca moans. The sound is high, almost girly for her. And thank God it is because I’ve just made a similar sound. One I’m not sure I want her knowing I’m capable of making.

  I push forward a little more, surprised and excited by how easy her ass takes me. How her defenses melt like butter.

  It isn’t long before I’m balls deep. Gently, I give a test wiggle and Bianca responds with my name. It drifts past her lips like the warm coffee she just drank.

  Encouraged by this, I begin to pump. Slowly, for sure. But not as slowly as I’ve done on other girls. I give it to Bianca faster since she demanded this. And she takes it so, so well. She takes each thrust like she hasn’t just gifted me with her second virgin hole.

  She stays patiently bent over, pressed into the wall letting me set the pace.

  Soon, we’re both into it. Sliding along on a cloud of pleasure. Textured tropical paradise all around. I move in and out of her faster. Even more deliberately than before, actually taking her by the shoulders and holding her in place so she doesn’t move. Locked into me, I get to enjoy the sound of her slapping skin softly against my jeans.

  It’s a thudding sound, not unlike the flog. It probably even feels like that to her too, due to a combination of the denim and the zipper colliding with her.

  Bianca makes more noise now. It’s a low and measured grunt with a moan every once in a while. Like she’s trying to show me she’s still a strong,
dominant woman, despite being bent over and getting fucked in the ass by her boy.

  I reward this behavior with faster, harder thrusts, and then I press my clean hand down her front. The moment I put my fingers on her clit and rub, she makes a howling noise. A cry, though she bites down on it before it becomes too loud or obnoxious. I stroke faster and harder, matching the pace of my cock.

  Her clit, which was already fat and happy when I touched it last, is now puffed up to the max. It’s almost as big and long as my thumb, and it takes all of that thumb to encase her. Jack her off properly. Which is exactly what I do. I treat her clit like a dick, immediately feeling some liquid squirt on to me. Not a lot, but the equivalent of my precum.

  The moment that thought crosses my mind, my own balls contract. Suck into themselves and start sending their juices up my shaft. I sigh heavily, realizing yet again, I’m on the precipice of coming and she hasn’t yet given me permission.

  Underneath my thumb, Bianca’s clit spasms. Jerk, like my cock has begun to.

  “Jordan, are you close?” She squeaks this at me as if her vocal cords are in shreds.

  “Yes,” I gasp, feeling my penis going super stiff. Hot. Ready to blow. “Yes, my lady,” I grunt. “But I’m holding it for you.” Gritting my teeth, I hold back the semen rushing headlong to the tip.

  “Go.” That’s all Bianca says. In the next second, as my thumb presses down on her and gives her one more flick, her clit, and surrounding pussy muscles release. As they do, a small, clear bit of liquid drops on to my other hand.

  And that’s all it takes. Feeling the wetness on my hand, the trembling in Bianca’s ass and beyond, I come.

  I shoot everything I have into her. Into the rubber I’m wearing, feeling dizzy as I’m pumped dry. It's as if Bianca’s milking me, draining me. My cock continues to force cum out even when I have nothing more to give.

 

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