Curves Envy 3 - Claimed By An Alpha: BBW Billionaire Romance (5 page)

“Holy Jesus,”
I pant. Explosion after explosion rips through my body, shattering me into pieces with exquisite abandonment.

“Fuck,” Max roars behind me. His fingers grip my hips in such a commanding way he stops my body from bobbing forward. My muscles spasm around his hard length as another wave of pleasure ripples through me. Somehow the air in the SUV has disappeared and I gasp, unable to catch my breath. “Oh, baby, I missed this with you.” Wrapping his arms around my stomach, he starts into the inexorable tempo I’ve become used to. Only somehow it seems more intense.

He’s going to rip right through me at this rate.
I’m not sure if it’s the raunchiness of having sex at the back of a vehicle parked in the middle of a residential street, but he rams me like a beast. It takes me a few seconds to understand why all my senses are still tingling.
He’s left the butt plug in.
Every thrust inside me moves the plastic cone deeper, filling me and sending odd sensations thrumming through me. Hedonistic thrills I’ve never known before. Ones I don’t want to like… but I do. He’s broken me in.

“Are you ready for round two?” Max slows down his cadence, throttling himself down, moving his cock in and out very slowly. “I’ve got a lot more to give and I know you can take it,” he says as he leans down to cup my breasts. “God, your tits are gorgeous. They’re so full and I love how they spill over my hand.”

“Max, I don’t think I can take more,” I pant between breaths.

“Of course you can. Don’t think about it, relax into it. It wouldn’t be fair if I gave you a quick fuck. I want your eyes to roll into the back of your head when you climax.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to protest a second time. Gradually he angles himself so his cock hits a part of me I didn’t even know existed. He grinds into me when I stiffen. “Did I hit your G-spot, baby?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to lose my mind.” This is all new to me, I probably wouldn’t be able to recognize my G-spot if it were looking at me in the face.

“I didn’t realize you are also a virgin in that department. For a woman, hitting the right spot is like striking gold because your G-spot is as sensitive as the peak of your breasts.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe his cock can do this to me, and I try to move away from him.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” His commanding voice halts my escape. Instead of moving my body forward, I clench uncontrollably around him as I realize my own vulnerability.
He knows more about my body than I do.
At this moment, my control is in tatters and I give over my will to him. My body is evidently his—why would I want it any other way? He pushes my legs farther apart to emphasize my helplessness.

“Your closed fists hurt my feelings because they indicate to me you don’t trust me fully. You may say you do, but Candy, you’re not willing to let go.”

His words challenge my resolve and surprise me at the same time. I didn’t realize both hands were closed into fists.

“I do trust you, but you’re stirring a flood of overwhelming feelings that reach down deep into my core. If I let go entirely, I fear I may never be able to recover.”

“The intense pleasure you’re so desperately trying to rob yourself of is exactly what I want to inflict upon you.”

“But…” I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Without asking for further permission, Max forces me to submit by driving into me. Slowly I allow myself to let go and instinctively tighten around him. My thighs, wide apart, tremble like leaves in a winter wind as my orgasm builds. I’m close. Max pushes back on his knees and slides his hand down my stomach, anchoring me in place and putting pressure on my clit at the same time. With the other hand, he pushes the butt plug deeper into my defenseless ass. He wiggles it, increasing the delirious sensation, increasing my submission to him.

“Argh,” I hiss. My whole body quivers in shock, and I let out an indescribable noise. “Lord.” My hips jerk, inadvertently rubbing my swollen node against his hand. “This is too amazing,” I whimper, yielding to ecstasy. 

“Come hard for me, Candy.”

“Oh, Max, I’m… I’m…” The words escape me as I come undone. Something this transcendental must be forbidden.

Max thrusts with his cock and slides the soft naughty sex toy out of me without so much as a warning.
Bastard. I was so close. He can’t deprive me now.
“No,” I cry out as my body craves more of him to fill the void. Suddenly, he pulls his cock out and pushes the plug in. My legs turn rigid, my back arches, thrusting my butt up higher. As he continues his mischievous game of alternating the thrusts in my wetness and ass, my needy pussy clamps down on his cock, tighter and tighter, and seconds later I lose it. “Yes. God. Please.” I convulse, wailing my climax in short cries corresponding to each rippling spasm of my pussy.

“Fuck, Candy, I love your unrestrained response to me.”

I’m so far gone I can’t answer. I can only focus on one part of my body right now. I’m too busy enjoying the tight milking sensation around his cock. I squeeze down hard and I milk him until I can’t stand it anymore.

“Holy Christ.” Max pushes the butt plug firmly inside me before grasping my hips with both hands and pounding into me. “Shit, shit, shit.” His own climax boils up and out of him like a violent tornado.

Our heavy breathing fills the SUV.
I’m spent.
I’m still holding on to the backseat cushion as if my life depends on it, lost between Planet Earth and Nirvana.

“You did good.” Max wraps his arms around me, burying his face in the nape of my neck. “You surprised me, sweetness. I didn’t think you were going to allow me to expand your sexual bliss. If I could, I’d stay deep inside you forever.”

And I’d allow your beautiful hard cock to remain inside me like this until the end of time.
Max is the lover I’ve always dreamed of. This afternoon’s kinky escapade has robbed me of my strength, my will, my speech and I can only shudder in his arms in response.
God save me. I think I’m falling for him.

Chapter 4

After our raunchy rendezvous, I try to slip back into the mansion as inconspicuously as possible, fearing everyone around me will know I got fucked in the middle of the afternoon at the back of a SUV by a god of sex. I tiptoe inside the home and run straight to the bathroom so I can pull myself together.

Holy Jesus.
I look like I got caught in a raving storm.
I’m bewildered by the telltale signs of my little romp with Max––smeared lipstick, mascara running down my face like a Goth devotee at the end of a night of feverish clubbing in one of New York’s trendiest spots, hair looking like I rolled out of bed a few minutes ago and no matter how many times I tried to smooth down my dress at the back of the car before stepping out, I still look disheveled.

I guess I should be grateful, because if I didn’t look like such a hot mess, I’d never believe I allowed Max to corrupt me to this point.
Damn, I loved every single second of it.

Once I feel secure enough, I waltz back on the photoshoot set as if nothing happened. Luckily for me, everyone around is so busy fretting, no one notices I disappeared for over an hour.

I try to locate Deidra in the sea of busy bodies, but after thirty minutes, she’s still nowhere to be found. I look around hoping I might be able to continue my conversation with Brian, but he’s disappeared as well. After forty-five minutes, I give up searching for both of them.
Maybe it’s time for me to go. I want to dazzle Max tonight.
Since I’ve already collected more than enough material to cover one week’s worth of articles, I call it a day. I grab a cab and head back to the hotel to get ready for tonight’s big bash.

* * *

I’m standing in front of the tall mirror in my hotel room and I’m admiring myself from every angle. Luckily for me I have the room all to myself since Deidra left me a note letting me know she has to be at the party before everyone else. I have carte blanche to pamper myself like a princess before a ball and I haven’t skimped out. I’ve spent the last two hours primping myself for the VIP party Max is hosting tonight.

Usually, I walk into a party expecting everybody will look better than me—and everybody will be wafer thin. But after spending the afternoon at the mansion ogling curvy body after curvy body, I know tonight I won’t feel out of place.

I have to stop biting my lower lip or else I’ll end up ruining my lipstick.
I’ve been fidgeting nervously, hoping I look good enough to hold Max’s attention despite the parade of beauties. I’m not a fool, I know I’m in for some steep competition tonight—the other women will be gorgeous plus-size models and I’m well, me. Of course, my agitation is only amplified by the fact I’ve finally admitted to myself I want a lot more with Max.
If I confess to him how I feel, I might drive him away since he hasn’t made any promises of forever.

Given Max’s penchant for curvier women, I can’t ignore the fact his eyes will travel tonight unless I look arresting. I was so worried about messing things up, I patched Devin in on a Skype video call so he could walk me through all the secret steps top stylists rarely reveal to the public. After our two-hour conversation, during which I was getting ready under Devin’s watchful eye, I became a believer because right before my eyes I had transformed from an ordinary and forgettable woman into the kind of head-turner I’ve always wanted to be.

After fanning myself and reciting a few silent prayers, I muster up enough courage to grab my evening clutch and head to the party.

Although Max and our team are staying at the luxurious Four Seasons Hotel Miami, the swanky affair will take place at Smith & Wollensky. I was quite surprised when Deidra told me Max refused to use the meeting rooms of the acclaimed hotel chain in favor of one of Miami’s most sought-after eateries in order to keep some sense of privacy. He wants to have the privilege of leaving the party behind when he’s had enough. What Max wants, Max gets.

As I sit at the back of the chauffeured car, I pull out my phone and Google the party location. I’m quite impressed by the reviews. Quoted as one of the best places to watch the sunset in Miami, Smith & Wollensky is the ideal destination to watch cruise ships sail by as they leave Port Miami while sipping on cocktails or enjoying one of their award-winning wines. TripAdvisor claims nothing beats the experience of strolling through the nearby parks admiring the sky being washed with shades of tangerine, lavender and pink.

I hope Max will be able to get away. I’d love nothing more than to watch the sunset hanging from his arm.

I barely have time to complete my search before the car slows down in front of the high-end steakhouse. It looks more like a prestigious estate than a restaurant and I’m already excited by the idea of rubbing elbows with some of the top names in the fashion world. I don’t even have time to set one heel outside of the vehicle before an eager man rushes to help me out. I open my mouth to thank him, but a familiar voice interrupts me.

“Candice, what an interesting choice for an evening dress for such an important party.”

The minute I recognize her strong accent, my stomach churns.
Did she really have to be the first person to greet me?

Until Bruna made her disparaging remark, I thought my dress looked amazing. But the way she’s staring down at me, from what seems to be twelve-inch heels, with both fists on her hips and a look of disdain, I start doubting myself.
Oh, God. Devin would never steer me wrong. This is his profession and he knows how to play up a woman’s best features, but this bitch has me worried now
.

“Bruna, I see we’ve arrived at the same time. What a coincidence,” I say, trying to deflate her attack. I’m not sure a slender actress like Gwyneth Paltrow would be caught dead wearing such an in-your-face design, but Bruna doesn’t seem to have any qualms about exposing her giant tits under her couture. I’m not exactly sure how to describe what she’s wearing, but in my opinion the combination of sequins and see-through fabric that runs down each side of her body, hugging her enormous ass, is over the top and clearly denotes how she’s desperate for attention. In fact, the dress is so short, it should really be called a tee-shirt. “Black is such a classic selection for evening wear. Who’s the designer?”

“It’s a Brazilian design,” she retorts, rolling her r. “Americans are far too conservative to allow a curvy woman to showcase her assets. Fuller women in this country dress like frigid nuns, but in my country we believe if you have it, why not flaunt it,” she continues before tilting her head back and letting out an almost evil laugh.

We’re not conservatives, you idiot. We have a sense of dignity.
“It does seem Brazilian women are bigger… how can I say this… risk-takers than we are. We Americans are a little shy in baring it all for strangers to ogle freely.” I look up at her and I’m met with a pair of cold brown eyes. It’s still not clear what I’ve done to irritate this woman so much considering I only met her earlier today for the first time, but everything about her suggests she can’t stand the sight of me.

“What does ‘ogle’ mean?”

“Oh, I forgot English is not your first language. It is simply another way of saying ‘admire,’” I lie through gritted teeth.

“Ah.” Suddenly she’s beaming like a peacock. “Thank you for the compliment.”
If you weren’t so dense and so full of yourself, you’d realize it wasn’t a compliment at all.
“I guess your dress suits you, but I would never choose something so… saintly. Your dress covers eighty percent of your body.”

I wish I were tall enough to be able to bitch-slap her.

“Why don’t we go inside? I’m sure a lot of familiar faces have already arrived and we can mingle with new people.” I choose to take the high road and put an end to this conversation or else it might get ugly between the Brazilian model and I.