“This is beautiful,” I murmured.
Mac’s arms snaked around my waist again, from behind this time. “You’re beautiful,” he growled in response. His free hand threaded through my hair, twisting and twirling it, and the slight sting as he pulled a little too hard made me ache for more. “Take my pants off. Then get on your knees and suck my cock like a good girl.”
He pulled away, and I fidgeted nervously before him. “I…” I faltered, barely able to get a word out. I hadn’t expected things to start this quick.
His lips curled up in that same cocky smile from earlier. “Do you want me to kiss you first?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to go a little slower?”
I nodded. The room was almost spinning from all the tension between us as I waited. Then his mouth was finally on mine, slanting over my lips and roughly taking what he needed. One hand reached for my head again, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as he pulled me harder against him. I could feel his thick hardness pressed up against my belly, and the thought of having it in my mouth and doing what he ordered spurred me on. I kissed him back just as hard, and he let out a low groan of pleasure. The rumbling sound vibrated in my mouth, and he grazed my cheek with one finger, trailing it down my face and over my neck. My head dropped back, and a throaty little moan escaped me.
My hand instinctively moved downwards, stroking Mac over the top of his pants. When I looked back up at him, I saw that his pupils were dilated; gaze hungry with need. He took hold of my chin and tipped my head back so that I was forced to keep looking at him while I touched him. “Tell me what you want, princess,” he said.
“I want… I want to suck your cock,” I managed to get out, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Good girl.” He leaned down for another kiss, biting on my bottom lip, dragging his teeth across it. I moaned softly into his mouth, and when he broke away, I slowly sank to my knees, staring up at Mac the whole time. He was pleased; I could tell from the look on his face. His fingers traced the goosebumps on my bare shoulders as I fumbled with his pants, and when I had them off, he let out a growl of anticipation. “Do it.”
My eyes widened when I pulled his tight boxer shorts down and saw his cock for the first time. It was bigger than I expected; harder than any I’d seen before. Steel hard. A vision of perfection, as far as penises go.
I bit my bottom lip nervously, and then I lowered my mouth over him. He groaned and threaded his fingers in my hair again, and I bobbed my head back and forth as I licked and sucked around the tip of his cock, taking him a little deeper each time I moved.
“Christ…you’re not as innocent as you look,” Mac growled, gripping my head tighter. “You’re too damn good at this.”
I’d only done this a few times in the past, and oral sex was the furthest I’d ever gone. It wasn’t long till Mac realized I had no experience beyond this.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum right away,” Mac said a moment later, gently pulling me away from his throbbing manhood. “So fucking good.”
He yanked me back to my feet. His mouth went back to mine, claiming it in a needy kiss, and then he broke away and issued another order. “Strip,” he said. “Shoes off, dress off, bra and panties off.”
I trembled, but I did what he said like a good girl. Like he said earlier. My fingers found the hem of my dress, and I slowly pulled it up and over my head before letting it drop to the floor beside me. Then I took my underwear off, panties first. As I looked down and hooked my fingers on either side of them, I could see a little damp patch on the front of them, sticking to my pussy lips. I knew Mac had seen it too. He knew how much I wanted this, how much I wanted him. How wet he’d already made me.
“Bra,” he said, gesturing toward the one thing I still had on.
I reached behind my back to find the clasp. My nipples were already stiff points, practically crying out for Mac to kiss and suck, but he simply stared at them instead, eyes skating over every inch of me. Then he moved backwards, taking slow steps to the bed. He sat down, fist around his cock, stroking up and down as he watched me slowly follow in his footsteps.
“Sit on my cock,” he commanded when I was only a foot or so away. “I want you to fuck yourself on it.”
I bit my lower lip again, faltering in my steps.
“What’s wrong?” Mac asked, the lines on his forehead deepening in a frown.
“It’s…nothing,” I replied. I could do this. All I had to do was follow his orders.
My legs found the will to move again, and I slid myself onto Mac’s lap, guiding my pussy lips right over the tip of his cock. He wasn’t in me yet, but he was close to it. He groaned, and I shivered with anticipation.
“You’re on birth control, right?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“What kind of nineteen-year-old isn’t on it these days?” he asked, brows furrowing deeper. “You allergic or something?”
Shit. I had to tell him.
“I…I don’t need to be on the Pill,” I said, looking down at his chest. I couldn’t meet his eyes while I said this. My breaths came fast and shallow. “Because I’m….um…I’m a virgin. So I guess we’ll need a condom.”
I reached down and took Mac’s cock in my hand, wrapping my fingers tightly around it. He pushed me away, incredulous look on his face. “Jesus….you’re a virgin?” he said. His voice dripped with pure horror, as if I’d actually just admitted to being a leper. “No way. I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what?” I asked, letting go of his shaft and springing back to my feet.
“Get dressed,” he ordered, ignoring my question and yet answering it at the same time. As he spoke, he pulled his pants back up.
My face flushed with hot shame, and my stomach dropped. “You don’t want me because I’m a virgin?” I asked, hurriedly gathering up my clothing as shame ran a deep, scalding-hot course through my system. “I thought guys liked virgins.”
I guess I was wrong about that. I looked back at him to gauge his reaction. He suddenly smiled, and I was incensed. I was so damn sick of people finding it amusing that I’d held onto my V-card this long when most people lost it at fifteen or sixteen these days. Maybe I expected that sort of reaction from my friends, but for a potential sexual partner….the thought of him laughing at me over my lack of experience made my heart sink like a stone. I narrowed my eyes and went on. “Don’t worry, I get it. You think it’s so funny, right?”
“Didn’t exactly say that, did I?” Mac said, leaning back and rubbing his stubble-lined chin. He was still smiling.
“Well, laugh it up with someone else,” I said snidely, pulling my dress on. “I’m leaving.”
I stuffed my panties and bra in my purse; I could put them back on later. Right now, I just wanted to get the hell out of here as quick as possible. Coming to this room with this man was a mistake. A huge mistake. I had no idea why I thought it was such a good idea twenty minutes ago, but I guess that’s what arousal could do to a person. It clouded the mind, dulled its usual rationality.
Mac’s smile faded. “Hey, now. You aren’t going…”
“Going anywhere?” I finished his sentence for him as I slid my heels back on. Then I scoffed. “I’m done with this whole thing where you order me around. It was only hot before you turned into an ass. So I am leaving.”
He stood up, eyes narrowed. “You make a lot of assumptions about what people are going to say and do, don’t you, princess?”
I challenged him. “Was I wrong?” I asked. “Is that not what you were about to say?”
He didn’t reply and simply folded his arms across his chest instead. “Doesn’t matter. I think the moment’s over. So go on, then. Run back home, little girl.”
I winced at the harshness in his voice, but didn’t bother replying. Turning on my heel, I stalked over to the elevator, regretting my decision to come here with every inch of my being. I was even more determined than ever to retain my virginity. Tonight was just a momen
tary slip-up; a state of temporary insanity. I needed to wait longer, wait until I found a decent guy. A guy I could get to know for longer than five minutes in a club.
I wondered if that was even possible in a city like New York. Did decent guys even exist here anymore? I knew guys around my age tended to be arrogant players, but I genuinely thought an older man would know better, or at least know how to speak to and treat a woman right. But no. It wasn’t just young guys—I now knew that all guys could be assholes. Young, old, whatever. Assholes.
The penthouse elevator doors finally opened, and I stepped inside.
“Wait, Liv…” Mac waved his hand at me and strode toward the elevator.
I pressed the button and watched as the doors closed in his face. “Bye, Mac.”
Chapter Three
Dec
“How was your flight back from New York?” Ellen peered at me, then went on before I could answer. “Never mind. You look like shit, so I assume it didn’t go well. Anyway, are you ready?”
Ellen Esposito was a lovely person, as you could probably tell from that exchange.
Just kidding. She was a domineering, formidable woman. Tall with angular features and not an ounce of fat on her body. Brown hair artfully dyed a shade of caramel blonde to accentuate her startlingly-green eyes. Pale skin with a dusting of freckles. She wasn’t my type at all. In fact, she was the exact sort of woman I’d usually avoid.
She was also about to become my wife.
“Almost,” I said, taking in the interior of her gorgeous Monterey home. It was on a winding road out of town, set back on an estate which had a breathtaking cliff view of the ocean toward the right of it. Ellen was rich as fuck, although if you asked her, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for a woman like her.
She sniffed and rubbed her forehead, which I could tell was freshly-Botoxed. “Well, don’t take all the damn day. I have to start getting ready to fly out to the set in a few days.”
“What’s your show called again?” I asked curiously.
“Wed At First Sight.”
“Sounds awful.”
She snorted. “It is. But it’s ratings gold. The viewers genuinely think people go on there looking for a real marriage and real love. But fuck ‘true love’. Fuck marriage. It’s all bullshit. I sucked my ex-husband’s dick and took it in the ass whenever he asked, and I still never got close to true love with him. And we were married for nearly fifteen years!”
I winced. Did I really need that much detail about her old sex life with her now-deceased ex-husband? “Ellen, please.”
She scoffed. “Don’t get all defensive of Joe just because he’s dead. You of all people know what he was like. He was an asshole. I carried and raised his kids, and what does he do in the divorce? Screws me out of most of his fortune. But I still got somewhat of a pretty penny, and I still have the estate here in Monterey. So I didn’t do too badly in the end.” She shrugged, then jabbed a finger at my chest. “But you…you and your family really got shafted by Joe before he died, didn’t you?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’d rather not talk about that right now. Let’s just get on with it. Where’s the paperwork?”
Ellen nodded toward a table on the far side of the room, across from the luxury bird enclosure she had for her pet parrot, William. I’d been here a couple of times in the past to hash out the details of our plan, so I’d had a few ‘conversations’ with the bird. Damn smart creature. He was an African Grey parrot. I Googled them the first time I encountered William. Apparently they could learn over a hundred words and differentiate between faces and colors.
He let out a loud ‘squaaaaaawwk!’ as we headed over to the table, stepping past his cage.
“Hush, William.” Ellen picked up a pen from the desk. “I already signed my parts. Just initial on the parts where the little blue Post-Its are stuck to the page. Then sign where the pink Post-Its are stuck.”
I picked up the pen, hesitating. Did I really want to throw away the next three fucking years of my life on a sham marriage? No, of course not. But with the way things had panned out over the last few years, I didn’t exactly have a choice.
It was a mutually beneficial situation for the both of us. Ellen, an executive producer for a few popular reality TV shows, was in her late forties and apparently needed to be seen as having the ability to score a hot younger husband to prove to the world that she was still ‘fuckable’. According to her, the second people started to view a woman as past the point of fuckable, the show offers from network head honchos would begin to dry up, even for those who worked behind the cameras. Sad fact of life, but there it was.
As for me…well, my reasons for agreeing to this shit-show of a fake marriage were far more desperate, but I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbled. This had to be done.
I was about to sign when William flapped his wings, let out another almighty squawk and began to speak. “Hello! Squaawwk. Freckle! Freckle!”
Ellen frowned—as much as she could with all the injectables she had in her forehead—and squinted at a wall mirror which hung above the desk. “Goddammit,” she muttered, fumbling in her pocket. “This fucking weather. It’s not even hot, but it gets so humid in here this time of year. Makes my foundation melt right off. Doesn’t help that the damn bird reminds me of it every five seconds.”
She began to dab at her face with a makeup sponge, trying to cover the dusting of freckles on her nose. I had no idea why she bothered. She was seemingly always trying to look younger, and to be honest, the freckles made her look younger. Yet she was always trying to cover them up.
As I watched her fret over her face, I was reminded with a jolt of a night three weeks ago. The fiery brunette girl I was with that evening had a few freckles too, though none were on her face. She had a big one on her left shoulder, one on her right breast, another on the right side of her abdomen, and a couple on both legs and arms. I knew because I’d spent the better part of a minute staring at every single inch of her gorgeous body while she stripped, wishing I could devour her all night.
Too bad it all got fucked up.
I was planning on that night being a last hurrah as a single man before I had to pack up and return to California to start sorting shit out—this marriage being one of those ‘shit’ things. The second I saw young Liv in that club line, I knew she was the perfect girl for an experience like that. A night worth remembering. She was fucking stunning. Special. All the other women around her paled in comparison, and I knew I was going to have her, no matter what it took. And I nearly did.
But then she told me she was a virgin. I had no issue with that (I should’ve seen it coming, really) but I had an issue with the way it was going. A girl like her didn’t deserve to lose her virginity to a stranger in a hotel room after a drunken night out. No, she deserved better. She deserved a guy who could really take his time with her, make love to her, show her how good it could be. Not a guy who demanded she sit on his dick and use it to fuck herself like she was some sort of goddamned sex doll.
I was going to do all that. I still had a few more days in New York, so I was going to ask her if she’d put the brakes on, let me take her out on a real date. Show her a real good time. Maybe it wouldn’t have lasted longer than those few days, seeing as I had to head back to California, but she would’ve had a great first-time experience. Something to remember; something more than a hard and fast fuck in a hotel.
Of course, that never happened. She misinterpreted my smile as amusement at her situation (it wasn’t—I was just smiling because it was cute how damn nervous she was) and then she blew up on me before I could explain a single thing. The moment was lost after that. It was over. She stormed out (forgetting my name in the process, apparently—she called me Mac for some reason before she left) and that was fair enough. Maybe I could’ve done more to make her stay, make her listen to me, instead of coming across as an asshole. But I wasn’t that kind of guy. I wasn’t going to force her to stay or stalk her down the street b
egging for another chance.
She was only nineteen, anyway. She had a lot of years ahead of her, and she was bound to find the right guy for her eventually. Not me, though. Never me. I couldn’t be ‘that guy’ for any woman right now, not with my current state of affairs, and besides, I was thousands of miles away now anyway.
The image of her pretty face and body were still fresh in my mind after all these weeks, and it was a nice memory to cling to for a while, I suppose. But in the end, I had to forget her.
“Declan? Are you going to sign today?” Ellen’s voice sounded even more annoyed now. “I need this out of the way now. You have no idea how much other shit I’m dealing with at the moment. One of my show contestants just dropped out, and filming starts in two weeks, for Christ’s sake.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry to hear that.”
She sniffed. “You don’t need to pretend to care.”
Lord, give me strength…
I scrawled my signature on the papers and initialed where I was told to. Once I was finished, I handed the papers back to her. She inspected them, then gave me a curt nod and stalked over to edge of the room, where she handed them to the officiant she must’ve hired for the joyous occasion. I honestly hadn’t even noticed the dude was in the room this entire time, but it made sense—we couldn’t get married just by ourselves. There was a whole legal process.
“Congratu—” The officiant began to speak, but Ellen cut him off with a simple raised hand.
“There’s no need for that,” she snapped.
I rolled my eyes. Christ, she was a nasty piece of work when she wanted to be. Sure, she had a good side too, but in the short time I’d known her, it hadn’t exactly come out much.
“Freckle!” William screeched again, swooping around his enormous cage and giving my new wife a beady-eyed stare. I stifled a laugh. I didn’t like Ellen much, but I sure as shit loved her bird.
Husband For Hire (A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance) Page 27
