Can't Buy My Love: Billionaire and Virgin Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  I hear Melissa sigh again, but it’s got an edge of a moan in it. A lusty, dreamy request for more.

  Softly, I slip my hands up, holding both of her thighs gently open. My hands in place, I dip my lips toward her pussy. This time, though, I bring out my tongue to play. I brush it along her lips, the curve of her hood, before licking inward. Flicking my tongue in through her velvety, warm curtain and finding my prize. Her soft and dreamy clit.

  I give it a small peck, before drawing small flowering circles around and down the length of her. With my first bit of attention, I feel her gasp awake. With my second and third passes, my soft and wet doodles on her, I feel her tightening and squirming. I hear her breathing. She’s thinking hard about what she’s done to deserve this.

  I tell her in between tastes and draws on her chubby, warming clit.

  “You slept through the night without fussing or demands to be released,” I say, enjoying the squeals I’ve started to hear from her. “You behaved yourself.”

  I lick and suck on her more, feeling her wetness thickening. She’s becoming musky, instead of sleepy and sweet.

  I tease her opening with one of my fingers, knowing she’ll be hungry for me down there. Which is exactly what I want

  “That kind of obedience is what deserve this reward, Melissa,” I say, enjoying yet more noises of unabashed, uncontrolled pleasure. I’ve started circling my finger around her hole, and her lips have reached out to grab me. Try to suck on me, the way I’m sucking on her. “Enjoy it to the fullest.”

  I double down on her. Start sucking and flicking her clit, anywhere and everywhere I can reach, using my fingers to caress her. I stimulate her sensitive spots, feeling her muscles already rippling. Her clit already climbing toward release.

  In her restraints, Melissa’s started to buck and shake, beg me for a breather. But I keep at it, reminding her of her position.

  “You are not to command me, only to enjoy yourself, Melissa.”

  I say this through a mouth and tongue still working her fully.

  I’m rewarded by the feeling of her hard, irritable clit pressing against my tongue. On it, I taste the first beautiful notes of her cum. They still taste faintly of champagne, and something flowery.

  I moan into this taste, truly enjoying it. I draw my lips and tongue tightly around her, rocking both along her clit and lips. I suck on her, hearing her begin to squeal and scream. She moves wildly, looking for some escape, some release.

  It comes quickly and violently for her, filling my mouth with her luscious, sweet fluid. I swallow the sweet perfume, enjoying the tremble and shake in her entire body. And her soul, as I hear her letting out shivering, disembodied moans.

  I pull myself off her, and move quickly to untie her. As I do, I know I’m going to hang her on the wall. I’m going to put her there like a piece of art or a trophy, ripe for the fucking. As it is, my cock is so hard, it’s close to bursting on its own.

  As I move her where I want her, Melissa doesn’t ask questions. She merely follows my lead, and lets me mount her helplessly on my wall. I mount her so that she is hanging and spread open, completely available to me. Her pussy and ass spread, ready for my taking.

  She looks at me from her tied and suspended position, wiggling her dripping and blushing holes.

  “I want your cock in me,” she begs pitifully, “please, sir! So badly!” Under her pleading, she’s started to swing herself right toward me and my thick, straight cock.

  “You don’t command me,” I remind her, and take her for myself.

  I take her swinging, dribbling pussy, and jam it on my cock the moment she comes in range. In a flash of warm, strangling pleasure, she’s completely devoured me. Every pulsing, aching inch of me is buried deep inside her, and I don’t waste any time.

  I grab a hold of her hips, and use the contraption’s flexibility to move her on and off me at quicker, snappier intervals.

  After that, there’s no room or time to talk. I’m focused wholly and completely on fucking her, on pounding her as fully and deeply as possible, savoring each jiggle and slap of her ass and lips against me.

  Like greasy, sweet lightning, her juices coat me. They increase my sensitivity, and before I realize I’m there, I’m already pumping myself into her. I flow into her like a white, hazy dream.

  I gasp, feeling her come right on top of me. I feel her spray down my length. I hear her cry out again, and as the last notes fade from the air, I feel her go slack in the hooks and straps.

  I pull out, smiling.

  I quickly unhook her, and take her sagging form in my arms. From there, I lay her to rest back in my large, fluffy bed.

  Sleep well, sleeping beauty. I have still things to prepare for you.

  Epilogue - Melissa

  I come back to myself, not quite remembering how I got back in the bed. The last thing I remembered was being hooked and strapped in the contraption, and getting fucked hard. Indeed, I’m still feeling all kinds of achy and warm everywhere, thanks to that.

  I look to the side of me, expecting to see Jake. I don’t. Just a neatly made set of sheets and pillows, while mine are the only ones disturbed. As I see that I’m alone, I feel a spear of fear and sadness. Though Jake and I just met, I’m feeling attached—bound to him—even without leather or silk.

  I get out of bed, determined to go find him. Both because I feel like I need him now more than ever, and to reassure myself that none of this was just a dream. From the bedroom, I pad quietly through some open spaces fixing the straps on my dress, feeling a little chilly.

  Just when I’m afraid I won’t find him, there he is. Seated at an elegant dining room table, positioned in front of a whole line of windows, each looking out on the beautiful cityscape. The table’s been made up with candles, small plates of food, and a fancy cake.

  Seeing me, Jake gestures for me to come close, take a seat across from him.

  I do, not uttering a word. As I take my seat and fold my arms in my lap, he says to me, “We’re officially celebrating your birthday now.” He pauses, gesturing to a pair of small gifts. “I’ve gotten you a few gifts, just like I promised.”

  I look at him in surprise, discomfort. “But you taking my virginity, that was my birthday present, sir,” I explain, not ever expecting any more generosity on his part.

  He smiles a handsome, mischievous smile. “No, my shy one, that doesn’t count.” He pushes the two presents closer to me. “These presents, Melissa, are very different from one another.” I look at them, not sure what he means. “You can open both, but you can only keep one,” he adds, pointing to one of the boxes, a smaller one, “I’ll explain more in a moment, but for now, open.”

  I shift in my seat, finding myself captured by his deep blue eyes, his strong, shadowed features. I open both, one after the other.

  As I see a diamond studded tennis bracelet gleam in one box, Jake says, “That tennis bracelet, if you take it, will say that you are content for our time together to be one night and nothing more.”

  Immediately, I feel my heart and soul began to palpitate. I don’t want that, but I want to wait and see what the second present means. It’s a box with a diamond studded collar in it, like you might buy for a pet.

  “That collar, if you choose it, Melissa, means you accept being mine. Not just tonight or for the next weeks or months, but for the rest of your life.”

  I know my choice without a second thought.

  I snatch up the collar out of the box, as if it and Jake might run away from me forever if I don’t.

  I know I should care about what my strict, overbearing father will say. I know my family will not approve of this “lifestyle” or of me dating such an older man.

  But I don’t have room in my mind to think about such things. All I want is more time with Jake. I’d do anything for him, give up anything or anyone.

  Jake just grins, revealing a pair of matching handcuffs.

  Coming over to me,
he puts both the collar and cuffs on me, before pushing away the tablecloth and putting me on the surface.

  “We’ll get to the dinner and cake I personally made for you, my darling,” he purrs, “but for the moment, let me have a taste of you all over again. An appetizer.”

  He smiles devilishly, bringing my legs up, and guiding himself into my center and through the folds of my pussy, still wet and sensitive from earlier.

  I gasp at the feeling of him. He’s not even inside of me yet, and I’m already shaking.

  “I truly got lucky with you,” he muses, pushing himself inside me for real. As he does, my folds and ridges cling to him. They celebrate his nearness again. “I got a rare diamond in a den of costume jewelry, didn’t I?”

  I don’t answer him, just open myself to him. I close my eyes against his soft, dominating motions. I’m tight everywhere.

  I’m deliriously happy as I feel him begin to ride me with sweet sincerity. Each press in and roll out, I’m wetter and more awakened than ever. The feeling of the choker around my neck, the cuffs on my wrists seal it. I’m ravenous and oxygen starved, and I see he’s the same. His breath has been stolen from him too.

  I see him shaking with his effort; quivering with his joy, and the one I feel building inside me.

  “You did,” I say, feeling myself reach quiet, potent orgasm, “but you’re not the only one who found treasure.” I gaze at him through my rippling, squeezing joy. “So, did I. The greatest gift of my life, not just my twenty-first birthday.”

  Jake releases himself in me, and I release all worries about my future. With him in it, it can be nothing but bright.

  THE END

  Silencing His Virgin

  Club Lush Book 2

  Copyright © 2019

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One - Samantha

  This birthday celebration for Melissa was supposed to be fun for her and help me get my mind off of my own horrid life! But so far, all it’s done is make me think about everything bad that’s happening to me more!

  In the bathroom at this hot dance club in New York City called Nova Rush, I think about how much fun this was supposed to be. I remember how me, my sister, and our group of friends from NYU thought this was a great way to help Mel ring in her twenty-first birthday.

  I was the most excited about it, since I was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. And why not?

  “I’m always up to party,” I murmur at myself.

  I say was excited due to one detail; one thing I wasn’t expecting. Yesterday, my twin sister, Becky, went and did something before me. She lost her virginity first!

  “And when I’m supposed to be the older, more experienced one out of us!” I whine. I sit on the closed toilet lid in a bathroom stall, still not believing Becky’s telling the truth. “If any one of us was going to have sex first, it was supposed to be me! It should have been me!”

  I pout, thinking about how I’ve always been the prettiest out of the two of us. How, even in high school, I was voted prettier than my twin. I became the homecoming queen hands down, and got all the boys. I got all the attention, even with my sister being nearly identical to me. Even then, I was always told I was prettier. I was treated like I was prettier, too.

  Until I started college, I think, remembering how that, like this, hasn’t been the smooth sailing, and the continual boost to my confidence and social life that I thought it would be. The moment I started this dumpster-fire addition to my life, this college thing, I haven’t been the same. I’ve lost my confidence. Guys don’t talk to me anymore! But they come up and talk to my sister all the time! They come up and fuck her too, apparently!

  I get off the closed toilet lid, growling to myself. “That is, if she’s even telling the fucking truth about the guy she told me she slept with, right before we all piled in the car to come here tonight. She gets some guy to fuck her, and I can’t even get one to take me out on a decent date. I can’t get even one to take me out to dinner and tell me how pretty I am!”

  As I make my way out of the bathroom stall, I feel something grab me at the hem of my skirt. Right as I feel it grabbing and catching, I hear it too: the sound that will destroy my entire night even more — ripping and tearing. Fatal damage is done to my favorite piece of clothing.

  I look down, seeing a large, tattered gash down my lacy, expensive skirt. It has been ripped in just such a way so that it exposes my bare thigh and hip on that one side.

  “Oh, no! My favorite skirt!”

  I pick up the ripped, ruined section of my skirt, and examine it. It really is torn all the way through the multiple layers. No bobby pin or hair clip is going to make it look normal. Just looking at the damage is enough to make tears flood my eyes, and my anger and frustration resurface.

  “That’s it,” I scream, “this is the worst fucking night ever! It can’t possibly get any worse!” I hurry myself to the door of the restroom and storm out. “It’s not going to, because we are not hanging around here anymore! Not with my clothes looking this way!”

  Immediately out of the bathroom, I spot my twin sister, Becky. She’s hovering around nearby, in accordance with our usual ritual. When one is in the bathroom, the other usually does guard duty to make sure we don’t run into creepers. The moment her eyes meet mine, I take off my sweater and tie it around my hips before she can see the apocalyptic destruction that’s come to my wardrobe.

  I move over to her saying, “I want to go. This place sucks, Becky.” Briefly, my eyes find our group of friends dancing among the darkness, flashing lights, and the reflections of the disco balls.

  Among the cluster of friends, I can spot Melissa, the birthday girl. Not because I can see her clearly, but because she’s hovering as far away from the rest of the group as possible. She always does whenever we go somewhere loud and fun.

  “Besides, Melissa is just doing what she always does. Being socially awkward and unavailable, even at the coolest spots!”

  Becky purses her lips at me. Her matching dark eyes and light-brown hair are like looking in a mirror, except she wears hers shorter than I do mine. She likes to wear hers in crisp curls — like an 80s cartoon fairy, while I prefer long mermaid waves.

  “We can’t just go,” she says, “this night is for Mel and her twenty-first birthday, not you, and whatever issue you’re having!”

  I ball my fists at my sides. “It’s not whatever issue, Becky!”

  “Listen!” Becky comes closer to me, dragging me in the direction of our group of friends. “You’ve been being a bitch all night, and you need to chill the fuck out! This is Mel’s night, and she’s having fun!” Her voice is a hot, motherly whisper. It’s an exact copy of something our actual mother might say or do if she were here.

  “Having fun? She’s standing against the wall,” I growl, gesturing at Mel.

  As I point, Melissa moves away from her spot by the wall, and begins to collect our friends. As we get closer, I can hear her begging Britney for something, then pleading for something from all them. Her large innocent eyes gloss over me.

  “I Bet she’s asking to leave because of the shy thing!” I hiss to my twin.

  Becky doesn’t answer me. She keeps moving us toward our group of friends. As she does, I can’t get my mind off the fact that she lost her virginity first and that she’s acting more confident, and looking more beautiful, because of it. The way she was glowing and happy when she told me what happened, I want that for myself, and I can’t believe she got to have it first.

  “I can’t believe you lost your virginity, Becky! I can’t believe you got to experience that before me!” I snap at her, as Mel comes up to us, and starts to murmur about some discomfort or other. I’m not really listening. I just want to hear what my sister has to say. “I bet you’re lying about it. Just like the time you lied about getting Valentines cards from every bo
y in our class in middle school!”

  “I did not make up losing my virginity, Samantha! He was really good in bed, that Tyler, and if you are being like this because you’re jealous of me, you might want to think about not being so overbearing with people!”

  “Overbearing?” Over my words, I see Mel move away from us. She shoos our friends toward the doors and out. “I’m not overbearing!”

  I feel fresh tears sting my eyes. I’ve just glanced at the tatters at the bottom edge of my skirt where it was split by the stall door, and I’m back to feeling sorry for myself. I feel ugly and unworthy, especially compared to my sister.

  “It’s just not fair that everybody seems to be paying more attention to you these days, and not giving a fuck about me!”

  “Oh, stop being such a baby,” scolds Becky, dragging me out of the club with the rest of our friends. “Maybe if you weren’t such a whiny little bitch, fishing for compliments and throwing a tantrum over stupid things, maybe a guy would actually want to fuck you!” These words are hissed at me as we come out onto the sidewalk, and Britney and Shay wander over to a city map, in search of something else to do.

  I don’t like my twin sister being so mean and unfair to me. I can’t help it. I start wiping at my eyes with my free hand, feeling like I could just go back into that stupid bathroom and cry the night away, but we don’t have time for that.

  Britney’s bolted off down the sidewalk, urging all of us to follow after her. Everyone’s started running, even Becky. I have no choice but to follow, but it’s murder in my thick, wedge heels. These were not made for running, and I try to get my twin to stop. I don’t want to add a broken heal to the list of my wardrobe malfunctions, but she’s not listening. She’s murmuring about Britney seeing somebody with cool interesting clothes and a nearby club.