Spring Break Bride: A Virgin For The Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

by Vivien Vale

  Her hips grind against my body as I pull her up out of the chair.

  “Daniel!” she gasps.

  Rose is a perfect woman, I realize—even more perfect than I could have imagined. She wants a baby, not just in mind, but in body, too. Her broad, child-bearing hips move against me in a silent plea—one that I’ll fulfill in due time.

  “Daniel!” she cries.

  When I’m ready, I’m going to take this woman. I’m going to mark her as mine, fill her with my seed and watch her perfect, flat stomach swell with my child—

  Fuck, when did I get full onboard with this plan?

  “Daniel! Daniel! Daniel!”

  Rose’s whole body shakes as she calls my name. As the shaking subsides, I hear her release a little giggle against my chest.

  “I think…I think you just made me come from…my nipples,” she laughs in disbelief.

  Fuck. Her body responds to me so effortlessly, I don’t even have to get her panties off before I’m making her orgasm in my arms.

  “Does that happen often?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “Nooooo,” she says forcefully, shaking her head. “Never before. What…what the fuck even was that?”

  I shrug, lowering her back into her chair and pressing a kiss against her lips.

  “Chemistry,” I laugh. “Biology, maybe.”

  When I pull away from the kiss, I see her eyes dart around once more. Like she’s checking to make sure no one saw her orgasming while having her nipples sucked like a fucking slut.

  “Rose,” I level with her. “You’re beautiful. I’m obviously gorgeous. Stop fucking worrying.”

  “I know,” she laughs. “It’s just…what if like, serial killers—”

  I shake my head, laughing again. “You watch too many horror movies, sweetheart,” I say, kissing her again. “And decidedly not enough porn.”

  “What if someone does see us, though?” She’s still giddy from her nipple-gasm. I’m watching her nervousness dissipate before my very eyes.

  This woman is such a fucking tease.

  “Let. Them. See,” I say definitively.

  My eyes drop to the hem of Rose’s skirt. Her eyes follow mine.

  She won’t be worrying about anything in a minute or two.

  That’s a fucking guarantee.

  Rose

  “Let them see,” Daniel says, like it’s no big deal for him at all. Any moment, anyone taking a stroll on the shoreline of his resort could come along and see Daniel and me fucking atop the table through the gauzy curtains of this cabana.

  Any moment, some fitness guru jogging along the beach could stumble upon us, making out a beast with two backs while I twist those curtains up in my fists.

  Any moment, a serial killer with a machete could come along and decide that, y’know what? He hates it when couples have romantic trysts on his murder beach!

  After all…after reading some of the forum posts from Daniel’s insane internet fans, I wouldn’t put it past the bitches.

  Like, that’s what happens to sexy couples fucking in secluded, romantic areas in the movies, right? They get slashed by an obsessive psychopath and end up on the front page of the newspaper the next day.

  Hell, there’s probably an aging police detective somewhere out there in this city right now, just a few days from retirement. And he’s going to end up with our sex-scene-gone-wrong as his final case.

  That’s how unrealistic all of this feels to me right now. Like we’re in a movie—not even our own movie, but someone else’s. That’s how hot Daniel is, and how insanely rich―and more importantly―how sweet he’s been to me.

  Part of me wants to call bullshit. I’ve been holding my breath for the hidden cameras to pop out since I met this guy. Now, I’m totally ready.

  A billionaire? On a beach? At sunset?

  While drinking this wine?

  This kind of thing happens to other women. It doesn’t happen to me.

  Any minute now, Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out from the waves crashing against the shore. He’s gonna be like, “Haha, PUNK’D! Gotcha!” and I’m going to have to try and act like my panties aren’t dripping fucking wet right now.

  But none of that happens.

  The waves roll in off the ocean.

  The sunset reflects off the water.

  Daniel nudges my sandals apart with the toe of his sexy leather shoe.

  “Tell me you don’t want it.”

  I swallow hard and lick my lips. They taste like fine wine and wanting.

  I like that. I like the way he’s looking at me even more.

  “I don’t want to lie,” I admit.

  It’s the only go-ahead he needs.

  Daniel moves to his knees. That’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen: a man as powerful as him and as handsome as him, kneeling before someone like me.

  I haven’t been able to get it out of my head, how bad I want this strong, sexy man to dominate my anxious ass and make me beg for his cock like a sex-crazed slut. But now that he’s on his knees before me, pushing my knees apart and looking at me like I hung the moon in the sky tonight…

  I feel like a queen.

  Just like that, all my inhibitions are put out to shore and washed away with the tide.

  A salt wind blows in off the water. It’s cool and fresh and smells like the waves. I shiver when it kisses my skin.

  The cold air raises goosebumps all over my body. I can feel them on my shoulders and my neck, my breasts, and my thighs.

  But Daniel’s cheek is warm as his presses it against my knee. And his lips as he kisses up my inner thigh…

  His lips are hot. Every place that they touch on my skin burns with longing, and that longing builds into something that’s becoming harder and harder to control.

  It’s not usually like this. This isn’t normal, wanting someone the way I want him.

  By the time he’s kissed all the way up one thigh, I can feel the humidity of his breath against the thin layer of lace that separates my pussy from his firm, greedy mouth.

  By the time he’s kissed back down the other, I don’t just want him anymore.

  I need this man.

  If anyone can see us…let them see.

  “Sip your wine,” he orders.

  I don’t even think about it. My fingers instinctively curl around the stem of my glass. It makes the power dynamic between us right now deeply clear: even when Daniel is on his knees, he’s still in charge.

  He can pamper me—make me feel like a queen holding court by the sea—but no matter what, he’s still king of this sand castle.

  And I’m his prize.

  Daniel’s hands smooth up my thighs. His touch is practically orgasmic. There’s nothing quite like feeling a pair of strong, handsome hands on your skin.

  It’s been too long since I’ve known a touch like his—or maybe, his touch is just unlike any other I’ve ever felt.

  His fingers hook beneath the waistband of my panties, sliding them downward. He doesn’t break eye contact with me the entire time he does it. It’s like he’s intent on making sure that he doesn’t push me to far…or maybe he’s challenging me to try and stop him.

  Stopping him is the last thing I want. I slide down on my chair, and lift my ass up for him so he can slip my panties off of me.

  The black lace glides down my thighs with ease. Removing them releases my scent. I’m so fucking wet for Daniel, the perfume of my soaked pussy hangs around us for a moment before the next gust of wind washes it away.

  While it does, Daniel closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. Like a man smelling the bouquet of a fine wine.

  I sip my white and let the flavor explode on my tongue, while Daniel follows his nose to what I can tell his body really wants right now: a taste.

  His tongue slips between my smooth-shaven pussy lips with wanting. They’re slick for him. Dripping with my warm honey and just begging to be licked.

  He laps at my cunt like the waves on the shore. Daniel
drinks from me, like my pussy is a goblet, and he’s a man dying for a drink.

  On the beach, every wave comes in harder than the last.

  Between my thighs, Daniel’s tongue moves in the same way. He’s building, and building, and building to something, and the something is inside me.

  In my cunt. In my womb. Growing and growing with increased intensity.

  Daniel sucks and licks my clit like he’s in love with the taste.

  Any moment now, his tongue is going to make the wave that’s mounting inside of me crash through my body, finally breaking against my skin.

  Have you ever been out on the ocean? Not some silly lakeside beach, but the real ocean. Huge and vast, powerful and wide.

  The ocean that tempted our ancient ancestors to build boats and sail beyond its blue horizons. The same ocean that inspired fearful tales of its watery depths.

  The same ocean that broke the very boats its mysteries inspired.

  When you move out far enough into the ocean, you learn to jump with the waves. They carry your body upward, up to giddy heights, and lower you back down only to take you higher still.

  But then it happens: a wave moves towards you, and you know it will break before it gets to your body.

  You’re faced with two choices: freeze up and let it crash down on you, sucking you under and sending your spinning, or you can dive beneath it and marvel in its power.

  I feel the orgasm coming, and I choose to dive deep.

  It crashes against my body anyway.

  I feel the wine slosh in my glass as it hits me. My pussy undulates as Daniel wraps his arms beneath my thighs and holds onto my waist. My hips thrash against his mouth, bucking upwards.

  I’m not sure if I’m trying to shake him or trying to shove my clit even harder against his face.

  But Daniel is a hard man to shake, and by the time the orgasm washes back out to sea, I’m left trembling. Shivering with pleasure.

  Shipwrecked against his shores and desperate for something—not just another orgasm from his mouth, but something more.

  “I need you,” I pant. My voice sounds all breathy and high, like I’ve just swam the whole of the Atlantic in a single night. “I need you, Daniel. I need you.”

  This isn’t like me. I’m usually satisfied after one! I’m not a greedy woman, and I’ve never been this fucking demanding of a man.

  But judging by the way Daniel is smiling up at me, his lips laying a final kiss on my cunt, I know.

  This isn’t like me, and Daniel has orchestrated it that way. The openness. The waves.

  The aphrodisiacs, the setting sun, and an orgasm that hits me so hard, it knocks me free of my rational mind into a place where I’ll do anything he asks as long as it means feeling that kind of rapture again.

  “Sip your wine,” he orders with an amused twitch of his brow.

  My hand is shaking as Daniel slips a condom out of his pocket, and I bring the glass back up to my lips.

  Daniel

  I’ve got her right where I want her.

  We’re both going to fucking remember this night. As Rose sets her wine glass back down on the table, I can see her hand shaking. It makes little ripples on the surface of the white.

  She has beautiful hands, I realize: long, slender fingers.

  Gorgeously shaped palms. Delicate little wrists.

  As I unbuckle my belt, I know exactly where I want those hands: wrapped around my cock, stroking it like her life depends on it.

  “Knees,” I instruct her.

  I can see the hunger in her eyes as she obeys. I pull my shirt over my head while she stares up at me, blinking, waiting for her next order.

  I don’t think so, Rose. She knows what she wants.

  “Go on, then,” I tell her, smirking. “I think you know what to do.”

  There’s only a moment of hesitation—but when push comes to shove, this woman wants me too damn bad. A dark glint sparkles up at me in those enchanting cinnamon eyes of hers—

  And then she’s tearing at the button of my slacks, doing everything in her power to take what she wants from me as quickly as she can.

  “Good girl,” I growl as she works my cock out of my boxers.

  As she holds it in her fists, Rose fucking gasps.

  God, I fucking love it when they gasp.

  Women have been fawning over my cock since I was old enough for my first fuck, but seeing it happen never gets old. It’s a point of pride, really—having a cock as big as mine, as thick as mine, and as able to please a woman as my cock always is.

  As far as the female orgasm goes, it has a 100% success rate. Something about the way it’s curved, if I had to guess. It presses right up against the G-spot in just the right way…

  Little does Rose know, it can go all fucking night if I want it to, as well.

  I don’t have to instruct her anymore. As soon as the look of surprise vanishes from her beautiful face, it’s replaced by another look I know all too well on a woman: desire.

  Rose is desperate to get my cock in her mouth. It’s triggered some kind of animal response in her brain that tells her exactly what she needs to do next.

  She needs to smell me. Taste me on her tongue. Suck me until she’s sure that when it comes to filling her wanton little womb with children, I’m the best man for the job.

  Damn fucking right I am. She can fucking bet on that.

  Rose can be shy sometimes, I know. She can be mild-mannered and polite and sweet. That makes it even fucking hotter when she starts licking and sucking my cock like a fucking whore.

  I love watching a woman go completely cock-crazed over my dick. I know it must have something to do with how fucking well-shaped it is. Perfect color, perfect thickness, perfect size.

  My cock has a huge fucking head on it that fills Rose’s mouth to the brim—and that’s just the head. I can feel her flicking her slutty little tongue against the underside, lapping up my pre-cum with desperation.

  “Good girl,” I tell her, stroking her hair.

  Rose moans up at me happily—and then, a deeper, darker moan comes from her throat as I grab her hair in my fist and start easing my dick deeper inside.

  Her lips are slick with her saliva, and the back of her mouth is fucking warm. Rose has the kind of mouth that you never want to take your cock back out of—but the way she’s licking me, I have to pull out, or else she’s going to make me explode then and there.

  When I withdraw my cock from her mouth, she whimpers with longing.

  “Shhh,” I soothe, petting her hair again. “Don’t worry. We’re just getting started.”

  With the next thrust, the tip of my cock presses against the back of her throat…and I’m not even halfway in. I can see her eyes beginning to water as she struggles to accommodate me. It makes her mascara dribble down her perfect cheekbones as her eyes well up with tears.

  I let them form. She’s going to look fucking beautiful by the time I’m done with her—more beautiful than ever, in fact.

  There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman who’s been freshly fucked. Even if we’re not making a baby together tonight, I know that when it does happen…it’s going to be fucking worth it, just to see my cum leaking out of her tight, wet cunt.

  The taste of Rose is still on my lips as I fuck her mouth. She’s moaning and whimpering for me while I do it, too—she fucking loves being used. I lick my lips, reveling in the taste of her honey.

  She got so fucking wet when I was licking her cunt, making her come to the sound of the crashing waves…

  She must have either completely forgotten that we were out in the open where anyone could come along and see, or she realized that she was as turned on by the idea of it as I am.

  Couples as gorgeous together as Rose and I are don’t fuck in public every day, you know. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a public fucking service. Free porn.

  It gets me even fucking harder, the thought that someone could be watching us right now. Letting us show them how it’s
done.

  “Christ, Rose,” I swear, pulling my cock out of her mouth. She was sucked down on me so tight, and my cock is so fucking thick, that when I remove it from her sweet fucking sugar lips it makes an audible POP! “Do you want me to cum in your mouth?”

  Rose considers it for a moment. I can see the wheels turning in her slutty little brain.

  “You didn’t bring that condom for nothing,” she finally says, a sly little smile playing on her lips. “I want to feel you in my pussy, Daniel.”

  “And you don’t care who sees?”

  Rose grabs onto my hips and pulls herself to her feet. The moonlight twines its fingers between the waves of her hair and bathes her tits in its glow.

  “Let them see,” she says.

  I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman more in my entire goddamn life.

  But as Rose pops herself up on the table, pushing aside wine glasses and dinner plates, I can’t help but realize…this is a lot more than just a fuck.

  When I claim her mouth, I’m not just thinking about how I want to get my dick inside her. I’m thinking about how I can kiss her to make sure that she never remembers the feel of another man on her lips.

  When I squeeze her tits, I’m not just thinking about how fucking hot they are. I’m thinking that these are the breasts that are going to feed my child and how fucking bad I want to worship them.

  And finally, when I nestle my cock between the hot, slick lips of Rose’s immaculate pussy…I’m not just thinking about getting my dick wet.

  I want to make her feel me—really feel me. Not just inside her cunt, but all over her perfect fucking body. I want her to feel me in every cell—ever petal—every thorn.

  “Condom,” Rose gasps as I tease the head of my cock at her entrance.

  “Fuck,” I swear, feeling the condom still between my fingers.

  How the fuck did I almost forget?

  I never fucking forget.

  Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts. I’m getting drunk on this woman—drunker than any wine has ever made me.

  I get the condom rolled onto my cock in record time.

  If I don’t fuck Rose now—fucking immediately—I’m going to go insane.