Personal Delivery: A Billionaire Secrets Story

by Ainsley Booth

  “Please?” I ask when he moves to my neck.

  He groans and pushes up.

  I reward him by pulling off my sweater.

  He groans again, and yes, those are the sounds I want. More of that. More of that reckless, need-you-now intensity. I kick off my boots, sending them flying across the room, then pull my legs up. It’s hard to make stripping off long woolen socks sexy, but I do my best as he starts on the buttons of his shirt.

  I knew he was hot. I’ve touched myself imagining what he looks like under his uniform. But my imagination had nothing on the reality of how broad his shoulders are, how muscled he is and how perfect his abs are.

  So. Fucking. Lickable.

  I do exactly that. I scramble onto all fours and kiss his abs as I help him with his belt. I want him all the way naked.

  The feeling is mutual, because he tugs my cami over my head, but that just tangles my arms up and suddenly we’re both laughing.

  “So desperate to have you naked against me,” he growls, flipping me onto my back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom packet, which he flips onto the pillow.

  I have no filter, so I commented, “You were prepared.”

  “I had unfinished business with your sweet little pussy. Take off your pants.”

  I wiggle out of them, taking my panties with them, because there’s nothing fancy about those. They go with the suite, and therefore belong on its floor.

  Since I finish first, I can watch him peel himself out of his suit pants, then his black boxer briefs. He’s gorgeous, every single inch. His legs are incredible, long and muscled, and his hips make me swallow an inhuman sound.

  All of that pales to what’s between his legs, though—well not literally. Right now it’s bobbing in the air.

  And it’s huge.

  I reach for him and wrap my fingers around the nicest looking erection I’ve ever seen. Hands-down. It’s a work of art. Warm and hard, thick and perfect. But big. He’s hung like a donkey.

  No, that’s not a sexy thought. Fuck. Oh, crap, brain. Turn around. Go somewhere else.

  Jake wraps his hand around mine, probably since I haven’t moved it. Hand job fail. He strokes himself slowly, using my hand, and I gasp. Oh, the heat of him feels so good under my palm.

  But he mistakes my gasp, because he stops and drops beside me. “What is it?”

  I can’t form all the words I want to say. I want you in my mouth. I want you inside me. I want I want I want… Instead, out pops my first reaction. “You’re really big.”

  “Are you panicking?” His eyebrows shoot up and he grins. “You know I’ve heard that it always fits, and there’s no reason—”

  I press my fingers against his lips because oh my God, no, I’m not worried about that. I can’t wait for that. “I’m only panicking about my overactive imagination and limited vocabulary, and the unfortunate collision of the two that made me think that you’re hung like a donkey.”

  His face freezes in this comical exaggeration of confusion. Eyebrows up and pulled together, his mouth twisting into a what-the-fuck expression that makes me think I’ve just ruined my first and last hookup with a billionaire. Well, second and last if I count our first time, but I didn’t know he was a billionaire then.

  And I hadn’t seen his cock.

  “But…” His face slowly relaxes and he gives me a cocky, shit-eating grin. “Is a donkey really that hung?”

  My brain stutters on his question. What?

  “I mean, really…you don’t think I’m hung like a horse?” He leans in and lets his very heavy, still very hard erection bump into my leg. “Maybe a fucking stallion? What’s this donkey bullshit about?”

  I gape up at him and he starts to laugh.

  I laugh, too, and none of it does anything to change the totally ready state of his definitely impressive erection.

  “Right. Stallion. So big it stunned me a little,” I whisper, trying to regain some semblance of dignity here.

  But there’s no room for dignity. Just laughter and heat, oh, yeah, that bubbling heat that hadn’t left and now is roaring right back. Because he’s lowered himself onto me and it’s all skin-on-skin, sending skittering whispers of sensation throughout my body.

  “So big it made your mouth water?” he asks, leading me on.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “So big it made you wet?”

  “Yes.”

  “So big it made you crazy?”

  “Jake!” I spread my legs around him and press my pussy against him, showing him how wet and crazy I am.

  He grabs the condom and I roll it on him with shaking fingers as he slides his fingers between my legs. I’m totally ready, and with an unsteady stroke of my hand down his length, so is he.

  “Put me inside you, Jana.” His voice is husky, his words slow and heady. I tilt my hips and slide him through my wetness as he cups my cheek, moving over me. That feels good, just rubbing together, but I want more. All it takes is a little rock, and his thick tip is notched at my entrance, already stretching me.

  I gasp as he pushes in, forging his space inside me. Oh God… A rush of heat sweeps through me as he takes over, pressing my legs up and wide. Opening me up so he can stake his claim.

  “Ahhh, yeah. Wild thing. So fucking good.” He groans as his balls slap against me, then thrusts again, deepening the delicious ache inside me.

  He inhales roughly as he moves his hips slowly, easing in and out until I’m rocking with him.

  “Good?” This time it’s a question, and I nod. So good.

  “Perfect,” I breathe.

  “Fucking right. You make me want to lose control, you know that?”

  I tangle my fingers in his hair and bring my mouth to his. “I don’t want control. I just want you.”

  With a hiss, he pulls my lower lip into his mouth and sucks as he pistons his cock into me, harder this time.

  I make a helpless whimper that he clearly likes, because he throbs inside me and thrusts again, fast now. Rough and intense. Our mouths slide back and forth, not really kissing. Fucking, maybe. Sloppy and wet, but it’s so hot. I want him everywhere. I want his mouth, and his hands. I want his breath.

  “You feel so good,” he mutters. His gaze is hypnotic, holding my eyes as he pins me down. “So tight. So hot. Fuck, I have to taste you.”

  And then he’s out of me, and I’m crying out, because I’m so empty without that solidness inside me, I’m floating and crazy and I need him—

  But then he gives me his tongue.

  He licks me, up one side and then the other, before circling my clit and sliding right down the middle. He licks me like he’s starving, then he softens his tongue and tortures me. I’m begging him for his cock, his tongue, his fingers, and he’s making all sorts of wild, dirty promises.

  In this moment, I believe every single one of them. He’s a sex superhero.

  “Come for me, wild thing. Come on my fingers. Come on my face. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to come again on my cock. That’ll be round one.”

  Round one? An insane kind of storm starts inside me. A crazy, delicious twisting of promises and hope and base, dirty feelings. His fingers thrust into me as his tongue works all the spots he’s found on my pussy that make me squirm—more than I knew existed, especially as he licks around his fingers, holy bananas. And it starts, deep inside. Slowly I turn into liquid fuel.

  All it takes is a match. A spark.

  A thrust of his fingers and a final swipe of his tongue, and I explode. Human combustion is a real thing and I may have just killed Jake with my thighs.

  Maybe not, though. He is a superhero, after all. And he’s soaring too, above me.

  Inside me again. Pushing into me, through me. He keeps me flying while he loses himself, while he starts shaking and loses all rhythm, but that’s okay. It’s good to know superheroes are human too, especially when they’ve seen you stripped bare.

  When they’ve seen you stripped back to your des
perate, human need.

  I cling to him as he surges into me and shudders, coming hard inside me.

  I force myself to let him go as he rolls to the side, holding on to the condom.

  And then relief quakes though me hard as he pulls me right against him, skin-to-skin again, because it took everything in me to stop clinging and I need this.

  He whispers my name.

  I need that, too.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice almost nothing.

  I kiss his sweat-damp chest. “Thank you. For the sex…and the compliment.”

  He laughs weakly. “Oh, Jana. God, you’re funny. And sexy.”

  I should like the beautiful compliment more, maybe. But this one heats up my cheeks. “Keep ’em coming, Mr. Aston. I’m very agreeable to nice things being said about me.”

  “I’ve got a long list, wild thing.” He rolls into me and kisses me, his lips soft and warm. He tastes like sex. “We’ll cover a few more of them after the next round.”

  “You were serious about that?” I grin. “I’m not complaining.”

  “Good. Because we’re doing that over and over again.” He crawls down my body, nipping at my belly, then he licks the crease between my thigh and my pussy. “Until every inch of you smells like me, and every inch of me is marked by you.”

  I tip my head back. Yes please.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jana

  Round three is in the shower.

  Jake pins me against the wall and touches me all over until I’m begging for his cock and then he gives me that, hard and fast.

  Now we’re lying on the bed, towels lazily wrapped around us. Sort of wrapped. Jake’s trying to get at my breasts and I’m giggling. I’m also not giving up any sort of fight, because the way he touches me is magic.

  This moment, right now, is heaven. I will remember this feeling—of being wanted, of being worshiped—for the rest of my life.

  “Get on top of me,” he whispers. He gets this look on his face, his eyes half-hooded and his lips flushed, when he has a dirty idea. I’ve seen it three times so far today, and I’m totally ready for a fourth. I straddle his hips and wrap my hand around his erection.

  I’m not shaking anymore. I love the feel of him in my hand. And I know what he wants when he asks me to be on top. He wants my tits hanging in his face. I give him that for a minute. Watching his face soften as my nipples brush his lips is thrilling—but I have something else I want to do even more.

  I give him butterfly kisses down his neck. He swallows hard as I lick the hollow of his collarbone. My tongue makes him react like that. This is amazing. I move down, exploring his pecs, then the ridges of his abs as he holds still for me. He holds still for me.

  I’d pinch myself but I don’t want to wake up.

  When I reach the hard plane of his lower abdomen, I slow down. This has always been my favorite part of the male body—well, the male bodies I see on Pinterest. I’ve never been up close and personal with a body like this before in real life. The three guys that came—and went—before Jake were ordinary in every way.

  Jake is extraordinary in every way, including his abs.

  Using the tip of my tongue, I trace a vein that pops out from the firm skin. Below my chin, his cock pulses, lifting a bit and bumping against me. I can’t resist such an obvious invitation to hold him in my hand again.

  “Jana…” He groans and lifts his head as I brush my lips closer to the base of his erection.

  “Yes?” I ask innocently.

  “You’re killing me.”

  “So I should stop?”

  He reaches for me and tangles his fingers in my hair. “Suck my cock, woman.”

  Since he asked so nicely… I shift lower and give him a chaste little kiss just beneath the thick, pink crown.

  I get another groan for that, but when a bead of pre-come appears, and I lick it up, the protest turns to an appreciative shudder and he shuts the hell up.

  I still take my time. Torture is a lot of fun when I’m in control.

  That first taste gets into my bloodstream, though, and it fires me up. I want all of him in my mouth. I’ve never been hungry for a man like this. I didn’t think it was possible to need something as strongly as I want to suck on him in this moment.

  I’m really torturing both of us as I lick around the head, pointing the tip of my tongue at the delicate tissue underneath. Cosmo articles are flashing through my mind. “How to Drive Him Wild In Three Easy Steps.”

  I shift my balance so I can get both hands involved. One around his erection, the other free to play. I touch his abs, his legs. The crease between his thigh and his balls, and then I cup his sac as I finally open my mouth around him and slide him along my tongue.

  He gets even bigger, even harder, as I start to move.

  His hands tighten in my hair, and he urges me on. Faster, deeper. Deeper. God, that makes me wet again. The scent of him explodes at the back of my mouth and turns me into a lust-crazed blow-job pro. It gets sloppy and desperate, and it’s so good—for both of us—that I think I could write my own magazine article. How to Thrill a Billionaire—In the Bedroom!

  I start to giggle, which throws me off my rhythm and Jake thrusts into my mouth at the wrong moment, making me gag a little, but I recover like a champ and he doesn’t even know.

  More tips flood to the front of my mind. He likes the hand twist as I bob up and down. He loves a quick double-suck when I’m as low as I can go. And he love-hates it when I pull off, a string of saliva connecting the tip of my tongue to his cock. “Good?” I whisper, making sure my breath brushes his sensitive skin.

  He answers by hauling my mouth back onto his cock.

  It doesn’t take long to take him the rest of the way. His hips get out of control right at the end, his thighs bunch into hard blocks of muscle, and the words that spill out of his mouth are perfectly filthy.

  “Fuck, yes. God, suck me. So good. Fuck. Dirty little mouth. Wanna come on your tongue. Holy shit. Fuck. Yes. Harder. Oh, fuuuuck—”

  I swallow every last drop.

  “Sorry about making you gag,” he whispers into my hair after he drags me up his body.

  Okay, so he knew. Still a champ. I kiss his chest. “No biggie.”

  “You could have stopped.”

  “Never.”

  Whew. I mean that in more ways than one. More ways than are healthy, but whatever. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

  I smooth my hand down his side and breathe in the subtle scent of lingering sex. Need to stock up on dirty memories.

  “You hungry?” he asks, his eyes still shut.

  I yawn. “Maybe. Could use coffee, actually.”

  I just want to touch him and lick him and never, ever have to put clothes on.

  But we’ve been in bed all afternoon and Starbucks isn’t on the room service menu. Plus I think Jake has to leave soon, and when he tells me that, I want to be wearing clothes. Some kind of armor because I don’t want him to go and I know that’s not an option.

  “Not room service coffee,” I say more specifically. “Do you want to walk to Starbucks?”

  He opens one eye and grins at me. “I think you do.”

  “And you?”

  He flips me over and kisses my spine. “I want you up on all fours. Once you come for me, you can get your fancy drink.”

  I get a peppermint mocha instead.

  Jake gets a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso in it. He smirks when the barista says she can’t do the extra shot after lunch or she’s up all night. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs, for my ears only. “All night.”

  At some point, I’ll need to tell my family I’ve been kidnapped by a billionaire and have no intention of returning to the condo until he returns to his real life.

  But right now, I’m on what feels suspiciously like a first date with Jake, and nothing is going to interfere with that.

  When we dragged ourselves from bed and got dressed, he didn’t put the s
uit back on. Instead, he’s wearing dark jeans, a different dress-shirt, and the nicest accessories I’ve ever seen on a guy. Brown leather boots, a similar leather belt, a watch that probably cost more than my car, a cashmere scarf that he totally pulls off, and a fitted wool jacket that he probably could have worn when he came to find me, but I get why he didn’t.

  But this guy, who just stepped out of the pages of GQ, held my hand the entire walk to Starbucks.

  And now he’s holding out a chair at a private-ish table in the corner.

  This is totally a date.

  I blush as I sit down.

  It doesn’t matter that we’ve had sex a half-dozen times today. It doesn’t matter that he’s licked me everywhere. This is still different. Still kind of terrifying, because sex is sex. Maybe he’s just a fuck-machine—and I’ll take that, don’t get me wrong.

  But sitting and having coffee means talking. Testing the waters to see if you want to talk again.

  And we’ve already done this, at my door, over packages.

  The stakes seemed way lower then.

  Because you thought he was the one who might be trying to impress you.

  Yeah, I didn’t have that fear any more.

  “So, our first date,” he says with a ridiculously charming smile as he sits across from me.

  I take a sip of my drink to keep from making an embarrassing happy noise. “Indeed.”

  “Not exactly how I thought it might go.”

  God, play it cool, Jana. “Oh?” I arch one eyebrow. So not sure I can pull that off, I might just look genuinely confused.

  The corners of his mouth twitch. “I meant to keep my clothes on a bit longer than that.”

  “Ah. Well, you know, that actually is something I look for in a man. So you’re in luck.”

  “Excellent.” He bites his lower lip and I wonder if it’s too soon to go back to the hotel room again. “What else are you looking for?”

  Danger. “Uh…” I need to play this cool, but not play it like a game, because I can’t imagine Jake would like that. “It really depends.”

  Now it’s his turn to do the eyebrow thing. He pulls it off perfectly.