Billionaire Heir (Erotic Romance Bundle)

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Billionaire Heir (Erotic Romance Bundle) Page 11

by Dalia Daudelin


  “Aside from two attentive sexual partners? You get this house. A large allowance. Anything you desire, really, is at your fingertips. You just have to sign a contract, and all this will be yours. And you... You will be ours.”

  The last four words make my clit twitch. Even just thinking about this is making me so wet, but I still am too scared to agree. I open and close my mouth many times, trying to find the right words for what I want to say.

  “You don't have to decide tonight, Melanie. I made up a bedroom for you, the same one that you'll keep if you sign the contract. You can stay here with us tonight, since you're so drunk. Think it over, and give us your answer in the morning.”

  I nod, feeling like a stupid child. I'm usually so decisive, but right now I don't know what I want. Do I listen to my body and my heart, and sign the contract? Or do I listen to my brain, and run as far away as possible?

  4

  “Here, you can wear these to sleep.” Jen hands me a nightgown and pink underwear. They have a J sewn into the band. The fact that I'll be wearing her underwear to bed makes me bite my lower lip. “You have a bathroom to your right, with fresh towels and plenty of whatever you need. If you need something else, let me know. We're just down the hall.”

  Jen smiles, and then holds out her arms, expecting a hug. When I don't step into her arms, she comes to me. “It will be okay. Whatever you decide, I support. And I think, if you decide to leave, I'd like to stay friends.”

  “Me too,” I breathe into her neck. She pulls away from the hug and then she's out of 'my' bedroom.

  I take the clothes she gave me into the bathroom. There's a soaker tub and a separate shower. It smells like lavender. Setting the nightgown on the closed toilet, I open up the closet.

  There's a stack of towels and washcloths, and then a large zipped up makeup bag. On it is a sticky note that says 'Use Me'. The handwriting is feminine.

  I pull the pouch out of the closet and examine its plastic outsides before taking the zipper and pulling it. I find a vibrator inside. Another sticky note reads 'never used', with a winky face.

  My stomach jumps, butterflies fluttering inside me like they're crazy and want to get out. God, Jen is so fucking hot! I can't take it!

  I pull my pants and panties down and sit on the edge of the tub, my legs spread wide. I find myself in front of a full-length mirror, watching myself as I place the vibrator at my clitoris. I turn it on, and the sensation makes my eyes roll towards the back of my head.

  While I masturbate, I imagine Jen's face buried in my cunt, licking my folds. I wish she were in here right now. How I'd love to lay on top of her and eat her out while she licks me, our fingers buried into each other's cunts!

  My mind goes wild, imagining Jen moaning while I fingerfuck her as my own orgasm courses through me. I slump over, suddenly tired and a little bit shameful.

  Something good did come of my orgasm. I decided I'm going to sign that contract and give my body over to this couple. I'm ready to be used.

  I wrap a long, fluffy towel around my waist and burst out of the bathroom. Expecting an empty bedroom, I instead find Shane sitting on the bed.

  “Heard you playing with yourself. Your orgasm is sexy.”

  I blush, but set my shoulders straight. “I made my decision.”

  Shane stands up, walking up to me. His hand is on his pants, his fingers hovering over his zipper. “Oh? And what did you decide?”

  A wicked, naughty idea comes over me. “I think I'll show you, instead of tell you.” I fall to my knees and press my hands against the bulge growing inside of Shane's black jeans. I work quickly to undo the button and pull down the zipper. With the jeans on the floor and the boxers pulled down, I reveal a huge cock that twitches every time I come near it. Precum shines on the tip of the dick, begging for my tongue to take it.

  Maybe it's the wine, but I'm so horny that I want to worship this cock. I was made for it, I love it. I open my mouth wide and take it deep into my throat, almost expertly. I've sucked a fair amount of dick in my time, but never deep-throated one. Dear diary, today I learned that I'm a natural cock sucker!

  Shane grabs my hair, hard, using it to control my head. He makes me pump up and down on his dick, my mouth leaving a trail of saliva. Shane grunts as he drills his cock into me, facefucking me hard. He slams his cock down my throat, holding my head in place as I struggle to get free for a breath of air, and then is spasms. His cum shoots down my throat with one more sexy, deep grunt from him.

  He pulls my head off of his groin. I don't get to taste a drop of his cum, which leaves me a little bit disappointed. I stand up, blushing about being so overtaken with lust.

  Shane looks down his long nose at me, and then smiles. A genuine smile. “I'm glad you decided to stay. You can sign the papers in the morning. Sleep well, Melanie.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper. He leaves, I take my shower. And then I go to bed.

  The next day, I feel refreshed. Unfortunately, I also feel more in control of myself than I was last night, and deep shame is settling in. The pit of my stomach feels like it's burning and I know I need to get this out of the way.

  I get dressed, brushing my hair and putting on some makeup. Sometime in the night, Jen brought me a sun dress to wear. It's yellow and girly and beautiful on me. The fabric feels so nice, it must have cost a fortune, which makes my decision that much harder to stomach.

  As I finish brushing my hair, there's a knock on my door. Before I can answer it, Jen steps inside. Her long blonde hair is curly today, each lock bouncing as she walks toward me. Her hips sway with each step, and it makes me salivate to watch her. I wish I could worship those hips.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” she says, her voice lower than normal. My stomach flips once or twice before settling back down. She leans in to kiss me, and I let her against my better judgment. She pulls back, winking at me. “I brought the contract.”

  “About that,” I say. I bite at the dead skin on my bottom lip, the stress of having to say no getting to me. “I just don't think I can do this. I'm not that kind of girl. I kind of like monogamy. If it were just you I would be happy, but I don't know if I can share you with Shane.”

  Jen just nods, sitting down on my bed. The bed that was bought for me. “I figured you might say that. But listen, hon, polygamy isn't that scary. It's like any other relationship, just with more people to love. I know it seems weird now, but you'll probably find that it's really natural.” She pauses. “Plus, I don't want to lose you.”

  I sit down next to her, thinking. “So, what? I'm like a second wife?”

  “No, silly!” She laughs, her voice sweet. “You're our girlfriend. Technically, you can leave any time. The contract says as much. The only thing is that you'll lose out on any monetary benefits, you don't get to sue for any kind of alimony.”

  “So am I just a sex toy for you two?”

  She thinks about this question for a long time, sighing. “No, I wouldn't say that. Maybe it will seem that way at first, but eventually you'll be our lover. Emphasis on the love. It's just like any other relationship. They're usually based around lust, too.”

  “I guess that's true,” I say.

  “Plus,” she leans in now, her lips almost touching the skin of my ears. “Don't you want to touch me, Melanie? I came in here, so wet to have my first experience with you.”

  In an instant, that switch inside of me is turned on. I don't know if I'll feel the same way later today, or tomorrow, or a week down the road. All I know is that I want to experience this with Jen. I want to get to know her and Shane in every intimate way I can.

  I pull her in for a kiss. She gasps into my mouth, and then melts into my body. My fingers tangle in her hair. Her fingers find my hips and use them to keep me close.

  Jen's hips lift and then she falls back onto the bed, pulling me on top of her. We both giggle as our heads swim with hormones and lust. I gently explore her jawline with my lips, and then her neck with my tongue and teeth. She moans and
writhes beneath me.

  Her thighs are silky smooth as I slide my fingers up them to her mound. I pet it gently, lovingly pressing against her outer labia to stimulate her clitoris. She moans into my mouth.

  “I'll do it,” I say before pulling the top of her dress down and revealing her breasts. They form drops of flesh on her chest, the nipples perfectly erect. Her nipples are pink and small and taste like sweet lotion when I suck them into my mouth.

  Jen mewls beneath me, grabbing the back of my head with a moan and keeping me in place. Each time I bite her nipple, she gasps and pulls my hair, her legs spreading wider. I spread her pussy lips and let my fingers slide into her folds.

  She's so smooth, so warm. I tease her clit, tracing circles around it but never touching it. And then I slide a finger into her hole, pressing it against the most sensitive spot inside of her before going back to teasing her clit.

  Before long she's gnashing her teeth. “Please, just touch me! Make me cum! I'm begging you, please make me cum!”

  Swirling my tongue around her nipple, I press firmly against her clit with a finger on each side of it, and then shake them as fast as I can. She screams and tries to wiggle away, but I hold her still as I push her towards her orgasm. She's panting and moaning and then finally another scream gives way to her orgasm. Her legs twitch around my hand as she comes down from her ecstasy.

  I don't stop, though. I stick two fingers inside of her now, and she immediately comes back to life, moaning and spreading her legs for me. I pump my fingers in and out of her pussy, fucking her with my hand and loving the feeling of her inner muscles twitching around them.

  “Oh- oh! Oh, Melanie, don't stop!” She cries as my fingers graze her G-spot. And I don't stop. Instead, I fuck her faster, my arm moving as fast as it can as I grit my teeth and work her towards her orgasm. My own pussy is dripping wet and I just might cum from this, as weird as that is.

  Jen cums again, and I revel in watching her face contort with pleasure. She relaxes, laying fully on the bed. A satisfied smile comes across her face, and then she sits up.

  “So, you'll sign the contract?”

  “I will.”

  She pulls the papers out of her purse and hands them to me with a pen. “Here they are. I'll stay here with you to help you sign them, and then we'll both go hand them to Shane.”

  Shane's office is a large room, filled almost completely with shelves of books. One small sections holds his desk, on top of which sits a large computer screen plus two smaller ones. On the walls are paintings of men who share the same last name as Shane. They must be his family.

  “Shane! She signed the papers, isn't that wonderful?” Jen asks, throwing her arms around Shane's neck as he stands up. He chuckles and hugs her before leaning on his desk and checking me out.

  “So, any questions?”

  “What should I do about my job?” I ask. Nothing else is really holding me back, aside from getting my stuff from my apartment.

  “I suppose you'll have to quit it,” he says, nodding. “Do you have any family you need to tell about this new arrangement?”

  I think about that. I could tell my Mom, but she would just worry about me. “Nah,” I say. “I'm a bit of a loner, usually.”

  “Alright, well, here's your new credit card. It's attached to my name, and you basically have no limit but try to use my money wisely.”

  Shane hands me a small gold card. My jaw drops as I realize what this means. Freedom. True economic freedom to do whatever I want.

  “Are you interested in college or anything?”

  “Yes!” I blurt out. I blush, looking down at the floor, and add, “I want to go to college for photography. I have since I was a kid.”

  “We'll get you signed up for classes as soon as you choose a school, then. I like my women to have a purpose other than shopping.” He smiles and gooses Jen's ass. They're a cute couple, even if Shane is intimidating. “Anyway, I'm busy for the rest of the day. If you girls want to call the movers to bring Melanie's stuff over, go ahead. I won't need either of you until tonight.” He turns and sits back down on his desk, immediately focusing on some papers.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Impulse

  “Ohmygosh I am so sorry!”

  My apron, once perfectly clean and white, is now quickly staining an awful red-purple. The glass of wine that is not shattered on the stone floor threatens to slip into my shoes and make me suffer for its untimely demise. The errant hand that drunkenly tipped it over is trying to dab the red off of her dress, and then my apron. There's no chance of her succeeding.

  “No, don't be!” I say, trying to sound cheerful through gritted teeth. I try to smile, but it's more of a twitch. “I'll be right back with a fresh glass for you. Remind me of the year?”

  Dashing back into the kitchen, my mind screams at me. I want to stand up for myself! I want to tell that rich bitch out there what I think of her antics every time she comes in!

  But then I consider how much money her dress cost, and the idea of that being garnished from my already pathetic wages... Oh, I feel sick.

  The nausea is even worse when I think of my daughter back at home. Amanda, being watched by my saintly mother, growing up in anyone's arms but my own because I have school loans and hospital bills to pay off. Thank God that Dad died before he could see me struggling like this, before he could see me move back in with Mom.

  Today hasn't been the worst day of my life, but it's certainly not the best. I woke up late and so I didn't have time to straighten my wild hair. I had to settle for a flimsy hair tie and a sloppy bun, but glancing in a mirror as I pass by proves that I look as frazzled as I feel.

  Then, my first customer demanded to see the manager because one of my untamed hairs fell into her steak. It didn't really. It was her own hair, but no one believed me!

  And now this. Now I need a new apron, and I know my manager is going to dock my pay for it. I grab one from the hooks as I pass into the wine cellar to pour the clumsy woman a new glass. By the time I take it back out to her, the bus boy has swept up the broken glass and once the woman is nursing her new glass I'm seating a new customer in record time.

  This one, a man, is alone. “Will you be joined by anyone tonight, sir?” I ask, brushing my hair out of my face. I think I feel a zit forming on my forehead.

  “Yes, in a few minutes, but I suspect she won't be staying long. Just bring out two glasses of water and one menu, for me. Thank you, dear.”

  He's older, maybe 50, but his hair is all black and there's barely a wrinkle on his face. What signs there are of his age simply make him look interesting, not old. He has the face of someone who belongs on TV. The restaurant I work in is near DC, so he could be a politician, maybe. Now wouldn't that be something?

  Ah, what am I doing, getting flustered over someone I'll never be able to talk to. He probably barely even sees me as a human being. Let's get real, everyone who eats at La Coste is rich and snobby and looks down at me no matter what I do. I knew that when I got hired.

  The only thing that keeps me going, that keeps me working here, are the tips and Amanda's beautiful face. I know she needs new school shoes for gym, and she'll be turning 10 soon.

  For some reason, I feel compelled to bow before turning to leave. Ah, hell, why did I do that? I can hear his chuckles chasing me into the back room. I grab two glasses and start to pour the water when I feel a presence behind me. I turn my head just enough to see my manager out of the corner of my eyes. Fat Pete, as we call him. Behind his back, of course. Never to his fat face. He takes up most of the small hallway where the water pitcher and glasses are.

  “Yes, Peter?” I say, trying to keep my voice pleasant. I don't necessarily fail at it.

  “We need to talk.”

  My heart drops, and at the same time it jumps into my throat. I pour the second glass of water. “About what?”

  “Look, there's no easy way to say this. You don't need to come back after tonight. We've had another complaint that y
ou spilled wine all over a woman and didn't even clean her up.”

  That rotten bitch! I keep pouring. I swallow my pride. “Can we talk about this after my shift?”

  “Sure, but I can't guarantee it will do much to change my mind.” A bead of sweat falls down his disgusting, round face. I smile and nod.

  “Alright, Pete. Thanks.”

  My mind is blank as I carry out the glasses of wine and the menu out to the customer. I round the corner and see that he's sitting with the woman. I stop for just a moment to see if this is a bad time to come over. She's drop-dead gorgeous, silky red hair down to her hips and a body that puts mine to shame. They seem to be talking about something, maybe a little bit heated. I decide to take the water over.

  “Ah, the water! You arrived right on time.” The woman smiles up at me, a cracked, crooked smile. Her eyebrows twitch as she takes the glass right from my hand. Without a second's hesitation, she throws the water into the man's face and stands up. “You're such a fucking pig, Joe. Fuck you.”

  I stand there with my mouth wide open as she storms off. The water is still dripping from his face. He reaches for the napkin, and I leap into action, setting down the remaining glass of water and rushing to help him dry off. “I'm so sorry, let me help you-”

  “Now, what are you sorry about? Did you tell her to do that?” He laughs, taking the napkin from me and pressing it to his face. He's still smiling, shaking his head at some thought. “No, I'm betting you didn't. I knew she was going to throw that water in my face. That's how we met, after all. I watcher her throw a glass of wine in a congressman’s face when he touched her ass, though I can't say I blame him. Anyway,” He looks up at me, his eyes fierce. Something in my chest flutters, that shy sort of feeling that escaped me years ago. “You look like you've had a worse day than me. Why don't you tell me about it? You could sit down.”

  I look at the seat in front of him, then back at him. I shake my head, clutching the serving tray to my chest. “No, I'm not allowed to.”

 

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