Dillon: A Fake Marriage Shifter Romance (The Johnson Clan Book 4)

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Dillon: A Fake Marriage Shifter Romance (The Johnson Clan Book 4) Page 5

by Terra Wolf


  Then she slithered it all the way out to her entrance. She lifted off me and teased her opening with my thick head.

  “Oh fuck, Dillon,” she moaned.

  I pressed my hips up to meet her as she slid back down on my cock. Low whimpers escaped her lips. He hands fell to my chest, and I felt her fingernails start to dig into my skin.

  Fuck I loved it.

  I wanted her to leave her mark on my skin.

  I couldn’t touch every part of her at once. I dabbled from her breasts to her hips to her ass. I ached for her kiss. Her ass compressed my balls when I drove in hard. Every stroke sucked the cum out of my cock like never before.

  She threw back her head and let loose a screaming aria of orgasmic cries to raise the roof. I couldn’t touch her. I could only lie back and stare in amazement at her sheer sexual power. I never beheld anything so erotic, so wild and unchained as that explosive climax. She climaxed every time I turned her over. Every position and every new thought sent her cascading over the edge into ecstasy.

  No woman ever responded to me like she did. No woman ever took me and owned me and gloried in me the way she did. Most lay back and let me do what I wanted. No one ever met me halfway to make me cum as much as she did.

  The rapturous pulses diminished, and her maniac twisting on my upturned cock slowed to gentle swaying. I couldn’t keep still anymore. No more lying on my back. No more Mister Nice Guy. She had her fun.

  The animal lust burst out of me. I reared off the bed and seized her in my arms. I launched myself at her in all my raging ferocity. With one wild flip, I pinned her down on her back and leapt on top of her.

  I tore my shirt off, and my bare chest touched her breasts swinging free. Her warmth swallowed me in a halo of beauty, and the fermented cocktail of monster aching need flowed out of my cock into her.

  She locked her arms behind my neck and her ankles behind my back. She rocked in my driving rhythm, and her quiet noises escalated to screeching delight all over again. I pressed my forehead into her neck and closed my eyes. My bear’s most primal hunger drove me onward. I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to plan how to get rid of her when this was all over. I could blast my soul apart on her and collapse in fulfillment at her side.

  I pumped my hard cock into her hot core. Her juices engulfed me in torrents of steamy delight. I couldn’t imagine anything more divine than that spongy, pillowy pussy welcoming me home.

  She heaved her hips into the air to meet my thrusts. She slapped her molten wetness against my hips to make her honey spatter all over my pelvis. Her sugar mingled with my sweat and my cum and my joyful tears to work more magic on my fevered brain.

  I couldn’t understand what she was doing to me, but I accepted it. I would become whatever she wanted me to become. I would go laughing to my doom before I ever let her out of my sight again.

  I clenched my fists in her hair and pried her head back. I hooked my other hand behind her ass to pulverize her harder than ever. She screeched in my ear. She bit me and clawed the skin off my back. She went nuts under me, but I only stuck her down deep with shattering blows.

  My fingers delved lower. I discovered the saturated crevice behind her, and my fingers diddled her clit, just a little bit, just to give her a little tickle.

  “Dillon don’t stop,” she screamed.

  Her screams grew louder making my hips pump into her harder. Her inner muscles spasmed around me. They choked off my cock until I could barely withdraw it to fuck her anymore. Man, that pussy was so tight! When did I ever feel a pussy like that?

  She laid her cheek against mine, and her mounting cries made me want her even more. I wanted her in ways I never thought possible. Here I was, pounding her into the mattress. My cock glided on rivers of wetness. She sobbed and whimpered and mewed. She wrapped me in her ivory limbs until I couldn’t remember any of what lay beyond.

  I fell into her. My cock dissolved in her core, and my blood boiled in my veins. I roared into her mouth and gnawed her lips, and she answered in shrieking ecstasy. I pushed my hips hard into her as I felt a wave rush over my body. My seed rushed inside of her and filled her completely. Her screams met my own moans as both of our bodies shook.

  I stopped pushing my hips as her screams slowly subsided and I toppled onto my back on the mattress.

  To my amazement, she rose off the bed. She kissed me once and floated above my face to catch my eye. She gave me a wicked grin. I could weep when I saw her face. “What are you up to?”

  She didn’t answer. She dragged her tongue down my seething chest. She moved down to my stomach down to my pubic bone. Her tongue ran slowly down my cock, and I surprised myself by feeling the blood rush toward it again.

  I blinked at her head between my legs. She was insatiable. She took every drop out of me, and it was never enough. She would never leave me alone until I got hard again. She never let me go fully soft before she attacked me again. She bathed my exhausted cock in her own unstoppable energy until I did it with her again.

  I started stroking that lovely heart-shaped ass sticking up behind her. She swiveled her hips around to meet my hand, and I found the dripping slit underneath it. She moaned around the cock in her mouth. She circled her hips on my hand. She wanted it.

  She sucked harder, and I knew I was ready to go again.

  I grabbed her hips and pushed them up to my face, while her mouth remained down on my cock. I slowly licked her clit, as a stifled moan escaped her mouth. She sucked on me harder as I started to move my tongue faster.

  I couldn’t get enough of her.

  She yelped louder and rolled her hips on my face. I moved my hand up and pushed two fingers inside her. My cock fell from her mouth as she screamed with delight.

  I moved my tongue and fingers faster, wanting nothing but to please her. She grabbed my cock firmly in her hands again and continued to run her mouth up and down my hard shaft.

  I felt her body begin to shake, just as I was no longer able to hang on, pushing us both over the edge into ecstasy.

  10

  Bianca

  One month later

  I slid into the booth across from my old roommate Lakyn. Lakyn’s jaw dropped, and she gaped at me. “What in the world happened to you?”

  I blushed. “What do you mean?”

  Lakyn waved her hand up and down. “I mean...look at you. You look like a million bucks.”

  I turned away to hide my burning cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the same person I was three months ago. I haven’t changed.”

  “You have so changed,” Lakyn shot back. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Don’t answer that. You must have. You’re wearing a couture dress and Manolo Blahnik shoes with a matching clutch. You’re glowing like you just came from the spa, and you haven’t stopped grinning like a banshee since you walked in the door. You’re wearing a diamond pendant to match your engagement solitaire, and you….”

  My hand flew to my neck. “This? This is just a little something Dillon gave me for our one-month anniversary.”

  Lakyn pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You have changed, Bianca. You used to be a girl from the South. Now you’re a billionaire’s wife. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Is it really so bad?” I lamented.

  “Bad!” Lakyn exclaimed. “It’s wonderful! I’ve never seen you this happy.”

  My smile got wider than ever. “Thanks. I am happy. I can’t explain it, but Dillon and I are really good together. It’s really working—for now, at least.”

  Lakyn sipped her iced tea out of a straw. “Well, tell me what you’ve been up to. You’re in the tabloids just about every week, and they can’t talk enough about your clothes. I suppose you’ve been wining and dining with all the elite in Charleston.”

  “Actually, we’ve been wining and dining with all the folks down in Culbert. I took him home to my parents’ house for dinner last night.”

  Lakyn stifled a gasp. “You did
n’t!”

  I nodded. “Dillon blew them all away. My father even shook his hand and said he was honored to have him as a son-in-law. Can you believe that? And Mama kissed him on the cheek. He really impressed them.”

  Lakyn clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I never would have believed it. This must be the real deal.”

  I shrugged, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t say that. It’s only for a year. Then I’ll be back to boring old me.” Lakyn was the only person that really knew the truth. She was my best friend, and I knew that there was no way I could keep this secret from her.

  “If he’s meeting your parents and knocking their socks off, I doubt that,” Lakyn replied. “I mean, look at this.”

  Lakyn handed a magazine across the table. I bent over it to take a look, but I immediately shoved it back. “I’ve already seen it.”

  Lakyn crossed her arms. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And what do you have to say about it?” Lakyn demanded. “They’re claiming you’re pregnant—with twins!”

  I waved that away. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? You should know better than to believe anything you read in a tabloid.”

  Lakyn stuck the magazine into her bag on the floor. “I don’t know about that. You know they don’t publish anything unless they have good reason to believe they can back it up.”

  I sat back in her chair. “What in the world would make them think I was pregnant? It’s ridiculous.”

  “I don’t know,” Lakyn replied. “Maybe it was taking him home to your parents’ house. Maybe the press took a shot of you at an unflattering angle. Maybe it was you strutting around in expensive shoes and diamond jewelry. Or maybe it was the fact that all his brothers are recently married and have kids. Though one article called them cubs, which was weird.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like we’re out there buying diapers and bassinets and stuff.”

  Lakyn shook her head. “You’re going to have to come up with something a lot more convincing than that if you want me to believe it’s not getting serious between you two. Have you slept with him?”

  I stared at her. All the color drained out of my face.

  Lakyn froze, but at that moment, the waitress stopped by with our lunches. Lakyn waited until the waitress left. Then she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’ve slept him, haven’t you? I knew it! You’re getting involved with him. You’re really getting caught up in this guy. What else have you done?”

  I dropped her eyes to my plate. I stuck a fork in my salad, but I didn’t eat it. “Nothing. We haven’t done anything.”

  Lakyn rocketed forward. She hissed through her teeth. “Oh, my God! You’re boning Dillon Johnson!”

  I darted forward, so my face hung inches away from her. “Will you keep quiet? If someone heard you, do you know what would happen?”

  “What could possibly happen that hasn’t happened yet?” Lakyn fired back. “You’re married to the richest guy on the block. You’re walking around with a massive diamond on your hand and taking him home to your parents. Now you’re telling me you’re doing him and the tabloids claim you’re pregnant. Tell me you’re using birth control. Please please please tell me you’re using birth control.”

  I sat very still. I stared at my friend, but I couldn’t be surprised. Birth control? Somehow, neither Dillon nor his illustrious PR team ever mentioned that. Julie had some serious talks with me in the early days about what would happen to me if I did anything to paint Dillon in a bad light. I had to show everybody what a good girl I was. Screwing Dillon on the side didn’t really qualify me as a good girl, did it? We weren’t even supposed to be sleeping in the same room, let alone the same bed. But our business arrangement had quickly slipped into something more casual. Almost like dating.

  If I did anything to make Dillon look bad, that witch Julie would nullify the contract. They would throw me out on my ass, and my spending account and all the thirty thousand dollars I accumulated over the past month would go up in smoke.

  I jumped out of my chair so fast it clattered to the floor. I didn’t bother to pick it up. I tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and whirled away. “I gotta go, Lakyn. It was really good to see you.”

  Lakyn cried out, “Hey! What about lunch?”

  I didn’t reply. I raced out the door. My Manolos clicked along the sidewalk. In a second, I arrived at the intersection where the Park Avenue traffic whizzed by in both directions. The commotion confused me until my eye landed on the newsstand at the corner. I strode over and picked up the same tabloid magazine Lakyn showed me.

  The enormous headline screamed to the world. Two in the Oven for the Shyft Billionaire Bad Boy. A glossy candid photo of me walking in the park with Dillon covered the whole magazine, but I didn’t notice that. I focused on the date in the upper right-hand corner. Today was June 15th, and I married Dillon on the first of May. I hadn’t had my period in over five weeks.

  I slipped the magazine back into its place, but I made sure to do it slowly and carefully. I made sure I did nothing then or on the trip home to attract anyone’s attention. The last thing I needed was some paparazzi splashing another headline across the world about how irrationally pregnant I was acting.

  What if that magazine was right? What if I really was pregnant? What would Julie do to me then? I couldn’t paint Dillon in a worse light than this. I could just imagine the headline then. Shyft Billionairer Fakes His Own Wedding? No, wait, Billionaire Bad Boy Knocks Up Patsy Hooker. Or even better: Billionaire Bad Boy Bags Another One.

  I had to slow down near Central Park to get myself together. My stomach fluttered thinking about it all. I didn’t even know if I was pregnant. I might just be late—very late, catastrophically late.

  I couldn’t face Dillon. I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face when he found out. That satisfied glow in his eyes would turn to icy hard disgust. He would turn his back on me. I would never again feel his silky skin. I would never kiss that tender place next to his heart. I would never fall asleep hearing his heartbeat in my ear when I laid my head on his chest.

  I couldn’t tell him. I wouldn’t tell him. I would take this secret to the grave. I stepped to the curb and flagged a cab. I got in and gave the driver his address. How much longer would I stay in his penthouse? When I started showing, I would move back to my parents’ house in disgrace.

  11

  Dillon

  I held the limo door open. Bianca shielded her eyes from the explosive flashbulbs popping off in every direction. I didn’t. I looked right into them. My bear growled as I confronted the paparazzi, took Bianca on my arm, and escorted her to the restaurant.

  I nodded to the maître d’, who waved me forward, even though other patrons packed the entrance and waited for tables. Bianca took two steps when someone called out from behind us, “One more, Mr. Johnson.”

  I turned around. “Okay. One more.”

  The photographer crouched behind his camera and crunched up his face. “Let us see you kiss her. Come on, Mr. Johnson. Kiss her just once.”

  I turned my beaming face on Bianca. “Okay. Just this once.”

  She smiled when I took her in my arms and kissed her. More flash bulbs blew, and bystanders took out their phones to snap pictures. I took her arm again, and we followed the maître d’ inside.

  I sat down at the quiet table in the back where the maître d’ gestured us into our seats. I pulled out Bianca’s chair for her, and we settled down to dinner. The maître d’ brought a bottle of the best Merlot, but Bianca waved him off at half a glass.

  I cocked my head. “What’s the matter? I thought you liked the Merlot.”

  “I do,” she replied. “I guess I’m just tired.”

  I looked around. “Maybe you’re tired of this place. We’ve been here at least once a week for the last two months. Maybe we should try something different.”

  “I like this place,” she told me. “Besides, you want to frequ
ent the same place all the time so you can maintain your hold in the magazines. The paparazzi can’t take your picture if they don’t know where to find you.”

  I shrugged. “They would find us, and maybe we would have a week or two of peace and quiet until they do.”

  At that moment, a shout went up from the front door. The maître d’ put out his hand, but a young reporter already broke past him and rushed up to our table. He held his notebook in his palm and a pencil at the ready. “Can you confirm the rumor, Mr. Johnson? Are you and Mrs. Johnson really having twins? When are you due? How’s the pregnancy going? Any morning sickness yet? Have you seen a doctor? Have you had your first ultrasound?”

  The maître d’ hustled over and snatched the man by the jacket. “Get away from them.”

  The reporter stopped putting up a fight, and the maître d’ hauled him out of the restaurant. The maître d’ came hurrying back, but when he tried to apologize, I brushed him aside. “It’s not a problem. You did all you could. I saw that.”

  The man vanished, and I took a luxurious sip of wine. I trained my gaze on Bianca, but she kept her eyes fixed on an invisible speck on the tablecloth.

  I waited, but she didn’t look up. “Bianca?”

  She flicked the speck away. “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay? That guy didn’t mean anything. You know how these reporters are.”

  She didn’t look up, and she didn’t say anything.

  I frowned. “Is anything bothering you?”

  She glanced up, but a solid wall of invisible ice separated her from me. All her warmth drained away. I might as well be looking at a marble statue. “What could possibly be bothering me?”

  I glared at her. My bear sensed her tension and paced beneath my skin with concern. Now I knew for certain something was bothering her. “Don’t tell me you’re letting all these pregnancy rumors get to you. Since when do you care what the papers say? They’ve said a lot worse about us.”

  Just for a second, her old self flickered beneath the surface. She bent forward. “What would happen if it was true? What would happen if I really did get pregnant?”

 

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