Confessions of a Bad Boy Millionaire

by Cathryn Fox

  “We didn’t…”

  “Oh, fuck.” He tugs his hair. “Didn’t he know you deserve to be worshipped?” The muscles in his jaw clench. “I’d like to punch that douchebag for not doing right by you. Then again, I’m kind of glad he never had his mouth on you.” He reaches out, takes my hand from my pussy and puts it on my stomach.

  The bed dips as he climbs on, and positions himself between my spread legs. My body quakes in anticipation, and I close my eyes against the flood of heat.

  Oh God, I need his mouth on me. Yesterday.

  “Eyes to me,” Braxton commands.

  My eyes slide open and when I catch the battle behind his, the tightness in his neck, I wonder what we’re getting ourselves in to.

  “I’m with you,” I say, and touch his arm, revel in the way his muscles tense beneath my fingers. He leans over me, tugs my nightie down, and pulls one hard nipple into his mouth, and I grab a fistful of his hair and hold on. His tongue slides, swirls, his teeth nip and tease. My hand goes to my other breast to play with my nipple and touching myself seems to bring out the beast in him. He growls, and sucks harder, drawing my nipple deeper into his mouth, the pull so strong I feel it between my legs. I move under him, lift my hips, buck against him, letting him know in no uncertain terms how desperate I am to feel him inside me.

  His mouth leaves my breast and the cool air conditioning in the room rasps over them, the hot cold combination arousing me even more. Brax drops to his stomach, and pushes his hands under my ass. Strong fingers sink into my flesh as he lifts my sex to his mouth, like he’s about to feed himself something he’d been denied for years.

  “Brax,” I murmur, as he buries his face between my legs. That first sweet touch of his tongue pulls a moan from the depths of my throat and I claw at the sheets beneath me. Hot and hungry, his deft tongue sears my sensitive clit as he tastes me. “So good,” I whimper, and move shamelessly against his mouth. All thoughts shut down until the only thing driving me is the pleasure between my legs.

  He licks from bottom to top, a slow glide that takes me higher and higher. My breathing changes, becomes faster and I go up on my elbows to watch him. He lifts his mouth, his lips wet and swollen from his kisses. Our eyes meet, hold, and something passes between us, something profound, hungry—something I just might not be able to come back from—then he’s once again feasting on me.

  His mouth moves, demanding, claiming, eating at me like a man starved. My body quakes, burns from the inside out, the flames reaching new heights as I stand at the cliff, arms spread wide, the world soaring around me. Dizzy, the room spins, but I don’t dare take my eyes from him. I cup my breasts, play with my kiss-swollen nipples.

  My mouth opens, but no sounds forms when he dips a finger into me, filling me with his thickness. I rock into him, bang my clit against his devouring mouth. From inside, he runs the tip of his finger over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the dual assault of mouth and finger pushes me over the edge until nothing exists but sweet sensations.

  “Brax,” I cry out, as my sex clenches around his thick finger.

  “Yeah, come for me,” he says, the vibrations of his voice rocketing through me and bringing on stronger pulses that make the room close in on me. “Come all over my face.” He closes his eyes like he’s in total agony, and stays between my legs, lapping at me, forcing the last ripple of pleasure from my body, leaving me sated, exhausted, so goddamn full—body and heart—I’m almost giddy. When the tremors finally subside, I want to move, take hold of his cock and put it inside of me, but my muscles are weak, my brain barely able to hold a thought. With shaky fingers, I reach for him, but he’s already on the move, sliding back up my body and closing his mouth over mine.

  He kisses me, hard, deep, and when I catch my second breath I cling to him, his mouth like sparks to kindle, my hands move to his back, nails scraping, delirious for so much more from this man. I whimper when he leaves my body, but a second later he’s back between my legs, sliding a condom over his beautiful cock.

  “Yesss,” I say and reach for him. He falls over me, and I touch his taut muscles, feel his restraint. He lightly rubs his tip over my opening, slow, steady sweeps to prepare me. He’s taking his time, going slow, trying to make this good for me, even though, from the look on his face, it’s killing him. An invisible band tightens around my heart as he grimaces. This man might have teased me relentlessly when we were young, but the truth is, he’s one of the best guys I know, and when push comes to shove, he’d do anything for me. Heck, he gave up his whole weekend to pretend with me. Only problem is, what we’re doing doesn’t feel like we’re pretending at all. It feels real.

  Easy, Eliza.

  “Take me, Brax,” I plead, a deep, husky command that brings more heat to his eyes. Perspiration dots his forehead as he positions his crown at my opening, and his breathing is so labored, I wonder if anyone else in the house can hear it. I spread wide for him and he slowly slides into my inviting body, giving me one glorious inch at a time. I move, writhe, cry at the urgent need to have him all the way inside me—now—fucking me, losing all control. Surrendering to the raging hunger bubbling below the surface, one he’s taking great care to control.

  I squirm, take pleasure in his length, his girth, every hot hard ridge sliding into me, pushing against my sex walls in breathtaking ways. Never have I felt so gloriously full, so desired before. His mouth is back on mine, kissing with a frenzy that doesn’t match the pace of his probing cock. I whimper, buck, and when he finally seats himself high inside me, it heightens the fever in me, consuming me from the inside out.

  He pulls out, a hot slow friction, that blurs my vision. “Harder,” I cry out as he holds back, takes his time with me, easing me into intimacy with some chivalrous need to do right by me—the inexperienced girl who always gets overlooked. I totally appreciate it, but I want him unleashed, I want him wild and uncontrolled.

  I want Brax to break under my touch, the same way I’m breaking under his.

  I put my legs around his back, and he buries his mouth in the hollow of my neck. I lock my ankles, draw him impossibly deeper, until pleasure bleeds to pain and back again. But I don’t care. If I only have one night with him, I want it all, everything, every single inch of him inside me, breaking me, ruining me. I want Brax to ravage me, not treat me like a doll who can be broken. We rock together, and he lets out a slow, unsteady breath. It falls over my flesh, and burns through me until I’m a quivering mess. His cock grows thicker inside me, blood rushing through his swollen veins.

  “I feel you. I feel all of you.”

  “Liza,” he murmurs. “You’ve got me right there, baby.”

  My heart soars, but I don’t want to think too much about how happy I am to know that I can take this man to the point of no return.

  “Come inside me, Brax,” I say, wishing there were no condom separating our flesh. I want his cum in me, I want to feel it drip out of me, a sweet reminder of this night.

  “Jesus, I can’t hold on, you feel so good,” he says, and lifts his head.

  “I don’t want you to hold on.”

  His throat sounds as he swallows, a barrage of emotion, everything from uncertainty to pleasure, all over his face. “Eliza…” I lift my hips as he comes down on me. His eyes focus on mine, and his face contorts slightly, every muscle strung tight. He pushes my damp hair from my face. “How could you ever think you’d disappoint me?” He pulls out, glides back in again, then grinds his pubis against my clit.

  “Brax,” I cry out, as my sex flutters. He pumps again, applying more pressure, and my breath stalls as a second orgasm blindsides me, a hot, fiery blaze of need that crashes over me steals the air from the room. Drowning, I grip his shoulders to hang on, claw at his skin in my struggle to keep my head above the surface. My body twitches, spasms, sucks his cock in deeper, and all I can do is go with it, ride the waves, let it take me to a place I’ve never quite been before.

  “Holy fuck,” he growls, as I grip his co
ck hard, heat flooding from my body and dripping down his balls, covering my thighs in a glorious mess of release. He stills high inside me, and throws his head back as he releases. Each glorious pulse pushes on my sex walls, and I squeeze around him, milk every last drop until he’s panting for his next breath. I hold him to me, and he collapses, driving me deeper into the mattress.

  I press my lips to his damp flesh, kiss his muscular shoulder, reveling in the quivering of his muscles. We continue to gasp for air in a room deprived of oxygen. Soon enough, our breathing evens out, and he goes up on his elbows, a small curve of his lips when our eyes meet.

  He shakes his head, his eyes holding a measure of disbelief. “That was…”

  “Awful,” I tease, a reminder of our kiss, which was anything but. My lips still burn from earlier. Laughing, he slowly pulls out of me, and turns. He makes quick work of the condom, dropping it into some tissues to dispose of later, then falls in beside me.

  He puts his arm over his forehead, the epitome of male perfection. “If I say it was awful, does that mean we get to do it again, until we perfect it?”

  I laugh with him. “I’m not sure it could get any more perfect, Brax. Well, maybe that’s not true. I think it could be better without a condom.” I shrug, making light of it when it feels very heavy. “You know, for the experience,” I say although I’m not sure that’s entirely true. I’m not sure why it’s so important either, but I need to feel Brax inside me, no barriers, no veils. Just him and me, skin on skin, wide open and holding nothing back.

  A moment of heavy silence, and then, “I always use a condom.”

  My stomach cramps. Dammit, I’ve asked for too much, more than he’s willing to give. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. This is just sex, Eliza. Don’t forget that. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “No, Eliza. What I mean is I’ve never had sex without a condom. I’m clean.”

  “I am, too.”

  “What about birth control?”

  “I’m on the pill.” I crinkle my nose. “Terrible menstrual cramps.”

  He places a soothing hand over my stomach and rubs gently. “I know.”

  I angle my head. “You do?”

  His grin is back in place when he says, “I was at your place, a lot, remember, Lizard?”

  I whack his stomach and he lets out a loud oomph. “How could I possibly forget?”

  “If sex without a condom is what you want, sex without a condom is what you get. Now come here.”

  He rolls toward me, and I catch a show of something in his eyes, something warm and soft and…satisfied as he settles me next to him. “No one has ever…” His words fall off.

  “What?”

  His fingers lightly brush my hair and I wonder if he even knows he’s doing that. “I’m sorry, it’s crude of me to bring up past relations.”

  “It’s okay, Brax. I’ve known you for a long time now. I know your reputation.”

  “I just…no one has ever come like that for me before, and…I think I’m trying to say I love how responsive you are. I love that I could do this for you.”

  “I love that you could do that to me too,” I say in return, and his laugh fills me with joy. I sigh from the pleasure, a soft escape of air that washes over Brax’s flesh. He grabs the blankets, drags them up and cradles me in his arms. Sleep pulls at me as I sink into his warmth, never wanting this moment—this night—to end. Being here with Brax like this, well, truthfully it’s something I’ve fantasized about since I was a schoolgirl. I never knew sex could be so good. Then again, maybe it’s only like that when it’s with someone you love.

  Oh. My. God.

  No.

  5

  Braxton

  The sound of footsteps in the hall pulls me awake. I open my eyes, but can’t orient myself. Where the fuck am I? I blink once, twice, and try to get my bearing. That’s when I see Eliza sleeping soundly beside me, looking so goddamn beautiful and sated, it’s all I can do not to wake her and take her again.

  My mind rewinds to last night, and all the things I did with my childhood crush. Truthfully, it was the best fucking night of my life—years in the making—it’s a wonder I lasted as long as I did. The second she put that sweet mouth of hers on my cock, I was done for. So fucking done for I had to pull out every trick in the book to keep from exploding down her throat.

  Truthfully, I have no idea where we stand this morning—except that she wants sex again—but last night, for some unexplainable reason, I needed her to look me in the eye, know it was me, Braxton Freeman, who was worshiping her body and bringing her to bliss.

  She murmurs in her sleep, and I touch her hair, pull the long dark strands from her face. She breathes deep, an adorable sound of contentment, thanks to a night of mind blowing sex and powerful orgasms.

  I want more.

  As I think about that, a knot tightens my gut, and a pounding begins at the base of my neck. Jesus Christ, here I am pretending to be her boyfriend, preparing her sexually for another man. How the fuck can we continue with this charade? She wants another guy, and I’m helping her get him. Only problem is, I fucking want her to myself, selfish bastard that I am.

  She’s not yours, asshole.

  What the fuck was I thinking, agreeing to something so asinine?

  Oh, probably because this is sweet, Eliza and you’d do anything for her.

  “Hey,” she whispers, and put her palm on my cheek. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  She sits up a bit, looks me over. “You look like you’re in a bad mood again. Is everything okay?”

  Shit, I wish she couldn’t read me so well.

  “I need coffee.”

  She laughs. “That’s right. I forgot how much of a grouch you are before your first cup.”

  I make a move to go, and her hand drops to my arm. She gives a little squeeze and I turn back to her. “About today,” she begins, her lashes flashes rapidly—a nervous little tick of her. “What I asked you to do.”

  “I got this, Eliza. Don’t worry.” Really, how hard can it be to pretend to be into her, when no pretending is needed.

  “I…”

  “When Jason finally takes his eyes off his phone and sees who you really are, he’s not going to know what hit him.”

  I know what I’d like to hit him with.

  She gives an uneasy chuckle. “Okay, thanks.” She runs her hands along the blankets. “Just checking to see if you were okay and still wanted to go through with this.”

  “I’ve come this far, haven’t I? I’m not a quitter, Eliza. You know that about me. I see everything through to the end, for better or for worse.”

  “I know and that’s what I love about you,” she says, then her eyes go wide and she shakes her head, all that sexy loose hair falling over her bare shoulders. As if realizing she’s still naked from the night before, she grabs the sheet and tugs it to her neck.

  “Oh, there is something you love about me is there?” I tease, wanting the sweet, relaxed Eliza back, the one who was so open and honest with me last night, one who shed her inhibitions and freely gave me every inch of her body. Body, not heart. Get it together, dude. “All this time I thought you hated every inch of me.”

  A blush crawls up her throat and deepens the pink in her cheeks. “You do have a lot of inches,” she says, then chuckles.

  I grin, hardly able to believe what my sweet Eliza just said. I stare at the woman beside me as her lips twitch. Seeing her like this, playful, teasing, all relaxed after the best sex of my night is a total mind fuck. Sexy, smart, funny as hell when she wants to be. The perfect trifecta.

  More footsteps sound in the hall, and lacking any sort of modesty, I kick off my blankets and stand, showcasing all my inches in their early morning arousal. Her gaze drops, and her breathing changes.

  “You keep looking at my cock like that and we won’t be leaving this room any time soon.”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m…sorry.”

  “
Don’t be sorry. I loved the way you worked my cock with that sweet mouth of yours. You owned it, Liza. Took me in like you were on a mission and it was fucking amazing. It was all I could do not to fill your throat with my cum.”

  “Ohmigod, Brax,” she says, her eyes wide as she chuckles again.

  “What, are you saying you don’t like my dirty mouth?”

  “…No.”

  I grin at her, and take my cock into my hand. “That’s what I thought.”

  A knock comes on our door. “Breakfast in twenty minutes,” Richard’s wife Michelle, says.

  “So answer me. Am I crawling between your legs again, or am I tugging one out in the shower.”

  She points to the bathroom. “Go, or everyone will know what we’re doing in here.”

  “So?”

  “So…we need to make the breakup believable, right? If we spend all our time in here, and not out there, it could look suspicious.”

  I stiffen, her words—a reminder of what this really is—are like a punch to the gut. “Shower it is then.”

  I step into the bathroom, and shut the door, all the while trying to keep my anger in check. I’m the one who agreed to this, so the only one I can be angry at is myself. I just hope this guy is worth it, and so far he’s proving otherwise. Seriously though, what kind of guy only notices a girl when she’s worthy enough for another guy. That shit is fucked up.

  I shower quickly, rinse the scent of Eliza from my body, and wrap a towel around my waist. “All yours,” I say and walk into the other room to find her dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt her fingers flying across her phone. She sets it down, and I glance at it.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, just Valerie wondering what’s taking me so long to get downstairs.”

  “Did you tell her your legs are too tired to carry you because I fucked you last night?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, Brax, that’s exactly what I told her.” She jumps from the chair, and casts me a quick glance. “She said Jason was looking for us.” I make a sound, a grunting little noise. “What?” she asks.