Breathe: A Billionaire Romance, Part 1 (4 page)

I reached down between us and held onto his erection. I held his member in my hand, guiding it to my sopping-wet entrance, and up against my dripping lips.

The tip of his rod felt huge against my tight center, and I was almost scared that it was going to hurt. But as he gently pressed into me and entrapped my lips with his, my mind eased and moved away from the moment—but only for a moment.

He thrust forward, penetrating me and the sharp and intense pain that I had only known a couple of times before shot across my entire body.

“Ah!” I cringed.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he whispered into my ear, and without knowing what I was doing, I nodded.

He was right. It didn’t hurt.

At least, it didn’t any longer. As if hiswords were magic.

I looked into his eyes, moaning, as he began to thrust in and out a little quicker.

“Oh, God! Yes!” I screamed without meaning to.

There was something animalistic about it, something different. It was almost as if we were two teenagers, fumbling and needy. And speaking of teenagers, I was more than just a little surprised when my orgasm blasted through me; it was so soon that I was completely caught off guard by it.

But I wasn’t the only one. I felt his entire body stiffen and twitch over me, and only a millisecond later a blast of hot cum shot inside of me.

But that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t finished.

Instead of letting it be, I lifted us both up and used my strength to flip us so that I could grind down on him even more. I wanted him deeper.

My breasts pressed against his chest as I ground into him even harder. And then I felt myself begin to shake and writhe beneath him once again. I was coming!

Fierce waves of pleasure shot through me, and I writhed and bucked uncontrollably against him until my body collapsed in an exhausted yet pleasure-filled overload.

“Wow” was all we could utter as I fell down onto him, completely spent.

Ragged breaths escaped us roughly, and the intensity of the moment seemed to slowly die away.

Our bodies were hot and sweaty, and I held him as I lay on top of him still. Neither of us spoke. We just lay together. He kissed me, tenderly, but passionately in a hot desperate battle of tongues.

“You’re unbelievable.” His eyes darted over my body, and I felt myself blush beneath his gaze.

“Pretty unbelievable yourself.” I let my hand wander and began toying with his now-soft member once gain.

I felt him stiffen beneath my grip, and I almost couldn't believe how quickly he rebounded. He groaned and leaned into me until he was just over my ear and whispered in a deep, seductive voice, “You’re so insatiable.”

I moaned and began pumping his length, softly and slowly at first.

I wanted to ease him into the moment again. I wanted to take it slow enough so that he was refreshed enough to fuck me again.

But I didn’t have to. Soon after I began pumping him, he was engorged with lust once more. And before I knew it, he had me bent over his desk with my body laying across it. His look was serious and determined, and I could do nothing more than growl in response. I wanted it.

I really, really wanted it.

“Can we fuck with the door open?” he asked, through gritted teeth, and I could do nothing but nod in response. I couldn’t understand what possessed me to agree. I wasn't that kind of woman. I was shy; I was classy; I wasn’t a slut willing to let the whole world see.

But I had to admit, there was something sexy about it. There was something lust-invoking about the possibility that someone
could
walk in; there was something so incredibly hot about it that I wanted to burst.

It was like a porn movie, and for some untold reason, neither of us seemed to shy away from it. I felt his presence leave and heard the click of the door as he flung it open. I groaned. I couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

Before I knew it, I felt his warmth again just before the head of his member rubbed and pressed against my wet entrance. With one small thrust, he was in me—and that one small thrust was the only gentle thing left. Instead of going slow, he plowed me, roughly knocking my thighs into the mahogany desk.

“My God, Zoe!” he screamed, passion filling his voice. “You’re so fucking tight, so hot, I can’t even get over it... it feels so good!”

I looked back at him. I wanted to watch him as he fucked me. I wanted to remember his face as he did me from behind. I wanted to revel in it.

“God, you feel so good!” I groaned, gritting my teeth as he continued to mercilessly plow into me.

“I love that hard cock in my little wet pussy. Fuck me! Harder!” I had no idea what was coming over me... I had no idea who I even was, but I had no control over it. I didn’t understand what was happening.

“Come inside me!” I screamed, my orgasm rolling over me.

The intensity of my climax as it rushed over me caused me to shed tears of pure ecstasy. I was surprised at how good it was, how mind-numbingly wonderful.

I felt my vaginal walls contract around him, fitting around his beautiful cock like a glove tailor-made for him. I squeezed and pulsated around him as I continued to ride out my orgasm, and I could hear him grunt with need as he continued to thrust into me, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long until he, too, was coming.

I knew—somewhere through the pleasure rocking me to my core—that the tightness of my walls pulsating around him were going to drive him over the edge.

And it was only a few moments later that he began desperately clutching at my hips, roughly, as he thrust his cock deeper into me with one final thrust. He held onto my ass tightly, as I felt his cock begin to twitch and jerk within me.

With each spasm, I felt more and more hot liquid spew into me, and I knew he had to be filling me to the very brim. I didn’t mind. I wanted it. I wanted it all, and I had no idea why—and I certainly had no idea why I was letting him.

“Let me keep it in you for a little while longer,” he whispered, as he leaned against me, heavily, his body limp from exhaustion.

I wanted him to take as long as he wanted. I wanted him to stay in me forever, truth be told... but that reality didn’t last long, because just as I felt myself relax, an alarm began to sound ferociously in my ear.

I looked up to see flashing lights, and I knew that it must have been the fire alarm.

What the...?

And then—out of nowhere—Polly appeared in the doorway. “Get up!” she screamed, and then just as suddenly as she appeared, she disappeared.

“Wake up!”

My body shot up in a fury of terror.
What the fuck just happened?
I look around, and I’m still in my bed, my room still dark, but I knew as I glanced over to my right that it was just because my drapes were drawn. The clock read 5:45 in the morning;  I had overslept... by fifteen minutes.

And then I realized the worst part of all, was that everything that had just happened was all just a dream.

I sighed, a little upset. Nay, a whole lot upset.

I hated that I had basically lived a whole day at work without it even being real. Fuck the sex part. I hated dreaming about work. I was already there all day, I didn’t need to be there while I was asleep, too.

I felt like that dream was actually my life.
How real could dreams really be?
I was soaked! In sweat and erm... other things. I must have really orgasmed.

I felt incredible. I was well-rested and glowing from climax; it was a good morning—despite the fact that I had lived an entire workday in my dream. That part sucked. That part was definitely the worst, but at least I felt rested, and at least I was free from stress—if only for a moment. Orgasms always did that to me; I always felt free as a bird after one. I only wished they occurred more often.

I threw my covers off, which had somehow been tossed haphazardly on my body at some point through the night. I stretched, a smile on my face. I loved that the room still remained dark. I could control when the sun blasted into my eyes.

I didn’t want to get up, no matter how great I felt, but I knew I had to. I had to get to work, and it was strange, but I wasn’t as upset about it as I normally was.

A
fter getting dressed and ready for what felt like the second time that morning—thanks to that incredibly realistic dream—I trekked into the living room. The early morning sun just barely made itself known in the sky, as small particles of light began to shine through the window.

And it took only a moment to realize that I wasn’t alone. Instead of being asleep like most people without day jobs at such an ungodly time, my roommate, Polly, was still very much awake.

Her hair was messy, thrown into a no-fuss bun. She lay sloppily on the couch with a game controller in her hand.

“Uh?” I said, looking over at her. “Did you sleep?”

“Who needs sleep?” she said in a zombie-like voice, her focus never breaking from the TV.

“Are you going to look for a job?” I asked, my brows raising. I already knew the answer, but I didn’t think it was possible for a twenty-six-year-old woman to be unemployed, happily playing video games, un-showered and unkempt.

“I have a job!” she snapped, her focus finally breaking.

My eyes rolled. She was an actress—an unemployed one—and a cam-girl by day.

“Being a webcam chat girl isn’t a job! It’s basically prostitution!” I giggled.

“I don’t show my tits or anything! There’s no nudity! Thus no prostitution is occurring!”

“You just ask men to pay you to talk to them!”

“They tip me because they enjoy my show!”

I rolled my eyes again. “If that’s what you want to call it.” I snorted. “You still parade around in your underwear on the show.”

“I sit in my underwear all day anyway!” she snapped, her smirk visible under her fake anger.

“I’m out!” I said, turning on my heel. I didn’t want to have that conversation again.

“Don’t forget I need you to be at my audition tomorrow morning!”

“You have to remind me now? Are you going to be asleep when I get home?”

“Probably.” She shrugged, turning back to her game.

Must be nice to sit on your butt all day,
I thought.

“I’ll be there.” I smiled, loving her anyway.

“Why did it take you so long to turn off that annoying alarm?” she asked, still not taking her eyes away from the television.

“You could have come in and turned it off yourself,” I snapped, a little irritated by the fact that she had stayed up all night only to sleep all day.

“Hey now, girlie,” she shot, finally looking away from the game. “Don’t trip out. It’s all going to be okay.”

I sighed. I didn’t even know what to do with myself. I was happy, though, that I actually felt rested, unlike in the dream. It was no wonder I felt sluggish and kept harping on my horrible breath.  That’s how I felt when I went to bed, and I was likely feeling it throughout the dream, but I finally felt rested.
Well-rested
—despite the unsettling dream.

In fact, I was so well-rested that I was actually happy going into work.

And dare I say it, I was actually... almost looking forward to it.

I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know how to explain it, but it was like the dream fueled something inside me.

I had always found him attractive, but that dream... it made me wonder if he really was all bad.
Did I just have some sort of Big Bad Wolf complex? Was he really that horrible? Had I really delved deeply enough?  If I could dream something that incredibly hot about someone I didn’t think I could stand, then obviously there had to be something else, right?

Or was it just looks?
Hell, I guess if it was just his looks that I was interested in then he was at least good eye-candy to feed myself for the day, a day in which I finally felt rested up.

I mean the one thing that it always did was help pass the time a little better than if he had been different, like a fat ol’ geezer with an equally bad attitude.

As shallow as it was, his looks definitely helped the situation.

He could be an asshole all he wanted. Sure, every piece of me wished that he was more than just an asshole with good looks, but I supposed it was better to be an asshole with good looks than an asshole without them.

And I tried to keep that fact in mind as I pulled out of the parking garage next to my apartment. Part of being his new go-to was going into work early—and that meant meeting the jackass at his house. As if I wasn’t there enough already after work and on days he wasn’t in the office. I felt like I lived in the extraordinary mansion-esque penthouse, but I didn’t receive any of the actual benefits of it.

I sighed, almost in a daze, trying to put the night’s crazy dream behind me. I just tried to remind myself to focus on how good I felt having had gotten off early the night before. And not focus on the antics I participated in—through the dream. So with my eyes on the road, my mind on everything else, I aimed my car towards his downtown penthouse apartment.

“G
ood morning!” I yelled, as I bypassed Jim, Derek’s apartment building’s morning doorman. 

“Good morning, Zoe!” He waved. Jim was always pleasant and recently seemed almost pleased to see me. “You’re here early.” He was tired, I could tell, but in the couple months that I had passed him, he had never seemed to let it get to him.

“I am.” I sped on the way and took my breakfast to go. “How was your night?”

“Same ol’... I just can’t wait to get off and go to sleep.”

“Did you not sleep before you came into work?”

“Took an extra job,” he said and sighed. I could tell by his tone that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. And what’s more, he seemed a little less thrilled about telling me, embarrassed even.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him. I had no idea what to say, but all I could think about was his circumstances, and I wondered how he did it.

“What about Abigail?” I asked. Abigail was his daughter. She was five years old and still hadn’t started school. His wife passed away the year before, and he had been raising her on his own, but I had no idea how he did it.