“I guess so,” I said in a meek voice. “I guess it just had to do with my family situation. There was always so much going on at home,” I confessed slowly, looking down. “My dad was sick for a while, so it was hard to focus, and then when Mom got laid off after that, we didn’t have much. So I got a part-time job, and then there was no time to study. One thing led to another and before you know it, I’d fallen behind. So much so that I ended up dropping out of high school.”
Trent just looked at me again, still wearing those glasses. I swear, if our conversation hadn’t been so heavy I would have thrown myself in his lap and cried, burying my head against that bronzed chest. And like he could read my mind, the man gestured to me, beckoning with one masculine hand.
In a moment, I was curled on his lap, shoulders heaving.
“I’m sorry,” were my sobs. “I don’t mean to sound pathetic but I guess I kind of am. I’m just not very good at many things,” was my whimper. “But I want to be better, I really do.”
Trent merely stroked my curls, his big hands gentle as he pulled me closer to his male warmth. But then he took my shoulders between two big hands and pushed me away slightly to look into my eyes.
“You’re smart,” he said gruffly, eyes fierce. “Don’t listen to the heaters. Sure, life has dealt you some hard blows, but don’t ever doubt that you’re an intelligent woman.”
I sniffled again, smiling at him through my tears.
“Thanks,” was my soft reply as he cradled me against his chest again. “I appreciate it. It’s just been tough, you know? Sometimes on the outside I’m smiling, but on the inside, it’s hard to keep it together.”
I half expected us to begin another torrid session of love-making but instead, Trent pressed a kiss to my temple before picking up the paper again with determination. And to my shock, he started reading.
“One across,” the man growled. “A sports game played in India. Seven letters.”
I squirmed a bit, burying my face farther into that strong, bronzed throat.
“I can’t,” was my muffled plea. “I don’t know things like this.”
But Trent shook his head, picking up the pen from the table.
“Think about popular sports in India. Surely you know one,” he coaxed.
I thought for a moment.
“Cricket?” I asked hopefully, raising my eyes to meet his gaze. “That’s let’s see … seven letters!” I squealed.
He rewarded me with a kiss on the lips, the contact electric, making my heart beat fast.
“That’s a good guess, sweetheart,” he rumbled, eyes slipping to the paper again. “But I’m gonna say it’s jai alai and not cricket.”
My brows crinkled.
“Jai alai? What’s that?”
He chuckled deep in his throat before placing a gentle kiss on my nose. “It’s a game they play in Pakistan and India a lot, and you often see it as the answer to crossword puzzle clues. You’ll see,” he added mysteriously. “After doing a ton of these things, you get into a rhythm and certain words turn up a lot like “aloe” and “Bowie.””
“Aloe?” I asked, dumbfounded. “Bowie, like David Bowie? Really?”
Trent shot me a knowing grin.
“Yep, aloe. And yes, like David Bowie. You’ll see, pretty girl, mark my words.”
So we went through the first crossword together clue by clue, me on his lap as he read the hints out loud. It was slow going, and I had no idea about most of the answers as Trent filled in the vast majority of the puzzle. But we’ve kept doing them together over the last month, and the alpha male’s instilled a sense of confidence in me. Although I’m nowhere near as good as Trent, these days I can get at least thirty percent of the answers, and delight when one of my words is actually right.
“Bo Derek,” I said proudly. “She’s the one who was in Perfect Ten.”
Trent grinned at me over his glasses before filling in the boxes with his pen.
“Sweetheart, that’s absolutely right,” he rumbled. “And the movie was 10, not Perfect Ten.”
I shrieked with laughter as he dragged me onto his lap again, kissing my cleavage as I struggled in his grasp.
“Well, I’m not as old as you, so I don’t know the names of these ancient movies,” I said with a saucy lilt. “You know you’re ancient, right?”
A gleam flashed in those penetrating blue eyes.
“Oh I’ll show you ancient,” Trent growled, biting my nipple through my thin shirt and making me gasp. “You’re gonna see what this old bugger can do.”
As to be expected, our crossword puzzle devolved into another hot round of sex, his cock buried tight in my tiny pussy as I mewled and squealed, taking every inch of that thick pole.
“Oh just like that!” was my delighted gasp as he filled me up, boobies bobbling as that thick fuckshaft made its entrance once more. “Right there, unnh yeah, right there.”
But this time, Trent wasn’t just sticking to my pussy. He flipped me around so that I was on my hands and knees and eased his length into my cunt again.
“You like that?” he rasped as I moaned rapturously, burying my face in the pillows. “You like getting Daddy’s dick into your cunt?”
I squealed as he pushed even deeper, his tip reaching almost to the back of my throat.
“Say you like it,” he commanded harshly. “Tell me you want it.”
I let go then, my cunt clamping down on his dick as it dissolved into a series of tremors, ecstasy flowing over my soul.
“I want it!” I cried out, face a rictus of pleasure. “Oh god, yes, Trent! Give it to me!”
And with that, the man exploded, filling me with hot jets of seed as my pussy milked him hard. Spurt after spurt of virile semen sprayed my pink channel, the spasms of my cunt drawing that baby batter even deeper inside.
“Yes,” was my breathless moan, breasts squashed against the mattress as he drained his balls into my twitching twat. “Yes, just like that.”
But Trent always has a surprise for me because after it was over, he slowly pulled out, inch after inch of that glorious monster reappearing between my cheeks. He’d filled me with so much cum that a bit welled up from my hole and slid down my thigh, making me shiver. But Trent was on it. The dark man bent his head and licked the tangy rivulet, swallowing his own sperm.
“Cream pie always tastes good,” he rasped hoarsely. “Especially when it’s hot and fresh from a woman’s cunt.”
I shivered again, about to say something, but what the billionaire did next made me shriek. Because he trailed his mouth up to my anus and pressed a kiss there before rubbing my pleats with his hand.
“What are you doing?” I squealed, trying to get away. “Stop, stop! It’s dirty there.”
But Trent merely dropped his head, pressing another kiss to my dark hole.
“No part of you is dirty,” he rasped hoarsely. “Every single inch of you tastes good, sweetheart.”
And with that, I melted under his caresses as that big dick worked its way into my tiny asshole. Because the billionaire does that to me. I know we’re not a couple. I know at some level that he’s just paying me for some temporary hot fun. But at the same time, it feels like there’s so much more at play. He makes me feel sexy, beautiful, and confident, not just about my body, but with respect to my mind too. So how can I not fall in love? How can I resist the magnificence that’s Trent Jones? Even though I know I’m going to be hurt, it’s already too late … because I’m head over heels in love with the alpha male, and there’s nothing that can be done to stop it.
CHAPTER 8
Kelsey
“So how’s it coming along?” asks Amber airily. “Have you been having fun?”
I nod, blushing. The last two months with my man have been amazing. Sure, I take shifts at the pool wearing nothing but a pair of pink bikini bottoms, my creamy breasts bare and swaying, available for any of the billionaires to see. But somehow, they all know that I belong to Trent, and while their eyes slide over my cu
rves appreciatively, no one touches. No one so much as breathes in my direction because my man’s made sure I’m wearing his marks.
It’s the love bites on my neck. The imprint of his hands on my waist. And also the slight redness to my bottom and backs of my thighs, the evidence of his love. There’s nothing super crazy, but yeah, we like to have fun and often our sessions are raunchy and exciting.
Plus, I’ve never been so happy before. I waltz around every day in a daze, my mind filled with images of Trent, my body sore from his hot loving. So I turn a smile to Amber and laugh gently.
“Things have been going great,” I confess. “How are things with you and Roman?”
Because I know my friend has been going to the club just as often as I have to be with her man. Believe it or not, it’s the same guy she met way back when we went for try-outs months ago. Somehow Amber and Roman connected, and they’ve been joined at the hip ever since. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of my buddy lately, what with both of us being out of circulation. So I shoot her another curious glance.
“Everything okay?” I ask. “You look a little strange. Actually, have you been out in the sun?” I quirk my head, really taking in my friend’s form for the first time in months. “You’re almost glowing, Amber.”
She flushes beautifully, her hands stroking down to cradle her stomach in a tell-tale gesture. I gasp.
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” is my whisper. “You’re having Roman’s baby!”
She nods smugly.
“I am, and I can’t wait. We both can’t wait,” she coos, “because this is exactly what we were hoping for. A baby, can you imagine it? It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl, we just want him or her to be healthy.”
The air disappears from my lungs even as I try to breathe deeply. On the one hand, I’m ecstatic for my friend, but on the other, isn’t this against the rules? My thoughts are confused as I stammer aloud.
“B-but Amber, what’s going on? I thought we weren’t supposed to get into relationships with the billionaires. It’s not allowed, remember? That’s what they said during training, plus they made us sign those contracts.”
Amber waves her hand carelessly through the air.
“Contracts, schmontracts. Roman said not to worry about that stuff because he wants a baby, and what Roman wants is what he gets,” she says with a satisfied gleam to her eye. “Besides, I don’t see how you can call what we’re doing not a relationship. He and I work out together, we eat meals together, Roman even cooks for me sometimes now that I’m pregnant. He makes a mean Spaghetti Bolognese,” she confided with a smile before straightening once again. “So how can this not be a relationship?”
I’m befuddled, leaning back with my thoughts swirling. Because Amber’s right. If it’s looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck. But what if you were told that you can’t have duck, come hell or high water? Then what?
So I shake my head, utterly confused. If Roman’s willing to flaunt the rules, then would Trent do the same for me? Does my man even want the same thing from me? I have to believe so, since we act like a couple in all the regular ways. We eat meals together, watch movies together, and even cuddle on the couch together like a pair of happy lovebirds. So Trent wants a relationship, right? He would want domestic bliss, just like any normal man, right?
But foreboding fills me because I’m a rule-follower, and the strictures of the Billionaires Club were always crystal clear. No relationships. Nothing permanent. No promises. So I swallow again uneasily.
“Have you guys made plans?” is my tentative question. “Is the baby going to live at the club compound? Will you get m-married?” I stumble over the m-word. Because can it be true? Is tying the knot in the works for my friend?
But Amber’s not bothered at all, merely waving another hand my way.
“Oh you,” she pooh-poohs. “Always filled with plans and wanting to know what’s next. We’ve talked about it a little,” she acknowledges, frowning a bit, “but haven’t come to any firm decisions. Most likely the baby will be born at the hospital because I want to have every resource at my fingertips, and you know they’ll pay for us to get VIP treatment.”
I nod silently. Of course, if a billionaire’s expecting a child, he’ll go out of his way to make sure that the mother’s comfortable and happy. But still, what about after that? What will happen after the child’s born? Is Amber a surrogate and nothing else?
Unfortunately, Amber’s a free spirit and impossible to pin down. She smiles again and shoots a pointed look my way.
“How about you, Kels?” she purrs. “Will we be hearing the pitter-patter of small feet soon for you and Trent?”
I gasp because pregnancy has occurred to me more than once. The thing is, I’m on birth control but often forget to take it. It should be easy, I know. Whenever I set foot in the compound, I should pop out my pill pack and swallow one right there.
But the thing is that I’m usually on Cloud Nine thinking of Trent and it escapes my mind. Take last week for instance. We’d just finished a hot session and he was idly trailing big fingers over my stomach.
“Oh,” I breathed softly. “I have a little pooch there, I know. I’ve been trying to get rid of it for ages.”
Trent bent his dark head, kissing my belly button.
“It’s gorgeous, honey. I love having extra to hold, and in fact, I think you could put some on right here and here,” he said, squeezing the sides of my tummy.
I giggled.
“What? No, that’d mean that I’d get love handles! You want me to have love handles?”
Trent’s eyes gleamed, but he merely dipped his head again, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of my stomach.
“Like I said, I like having a little extra to hold, and if you have some here and here,” he said, pinching my sides again, “it’ll make for some good places to hold when I’m taking you from the back,” he said, his breath hot on my sensitive skin. “Imagine it,” the big man breathed mischievously, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Me, sliding into you from behind, holding on for better leverage. Sounds good, right? I’d be able to get in real deep.”
I giggled again, although a tingle ran through my pussy, the ache already starting once more.
“Oh you,” I said, “you’re so dirty.” But secretly, I was elated because Trent adored me the way I was, and in fact, wouldn’t even mind if I put on additional weight. What could be better than that?
My man’s big hands slid over my tummy again, thoughtfully running over the pooch before he lifted blue eyes to meet mine.
“Speaking of which, honey, have you been taking your pills?”
That caused me to sit up with a startled gasp.
“Oh shit, I forgot,” came my panicked voice. “Here, hand me my bag, they’re in there. I’ll take one now.”
But instead of hot-stepping it to the other end of the suite where my purse lay, instead Trent pressed another loving kiss to my tummy.
“No worries,” he drawled. “I’m sure if you take it tomorrow, it’ll be the same.”
I stared at him.
“No, I have to take it now. In fact, I’m supposed to take every pill at around the same time each day, and I’m already six hours late for today,” I said, my eyes flickering to the unblinking numbers of the digital clock. “Hold on, just one sec. I’ll get it now,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, ready to run over and down the entire pill pack if necessary.
But my man wouldn’t let me. He shifted that big body over to pin me down to the sheets, nuzzling my neck before nipping at my ear this time.
“Like I said sweetheart, it’s okay. Just take two tomorrow.”
I beat futilely with small fists at his shoulders.
“Trent, are you crazy? My birth control’s right here and I can easily get them. Eeef! What are you doing?”
Because my man had dipped his head to suckle at once of my breasts, and tingles ran straight
from my nips to my cunt.
“Oh!” I cried again, already beginning to writhe beneath him. “What’s going on?”
But my man only lifted his head for a moment to shoot a mischievous look up at me, blue eyes gleaming.
“Like I said sweetheart, there’s no worries. Besides, you’re probably already pregnant,” he said in an off-hand manner. “The first time we were in the hot tub together, I came. And you weren’t on the pill then, right? My sperm probably slipped into your pussy through the water, and our baby’s growing inside you now.”
My eyes flipped open then as I pushed futilely at those heavy shoulders. Because was he right? Could I get pregnant from his sperm even if technically, he didn’t come in me? Plus, there were so many times where we made love in the pool, me accepting that big cock with my legs spread and pussy willing. Sometimes he pulled out if I told him I’d forgotten to take my pills, but was that enough? Could I get pregnant merely from his sperm floating through the liquid and into my fertile twat?
Reading my mind, Trent grinned like a madman.
“You betcha,” he rumbled. “I’m virile, sweetheart, as are all of my buddies. That’s why they drain the pool everyday and refill it. Because so many guys come again and again, that our pools are probably half semen by the end of the day. Trust me, it’s a hygiene thing, not to mention the fact that we want to know who the father is in case a girl does get pregnant.”
Claiming His Virgin In the Pool Page 6
