Forced to Bloom, The Complete Series: (BBW Alpha Male Billionaire BDSM Romance)

by Alexis Adaire

  I marveled at how she smelled and tasted, not anything like the men I’d been with. My own pussy was dripping and I couldn’t wait to come, to savor that release I needed so badly.

  Whitney’s other hand dug into my hair as I eased my index finger into her. I felt her butt lift off the bed in response and she pushed her pussy against my mouth. I wanted to stroke her G-spot, but felt clueless as I tried to find it while continuing to lick her clit with the flat of my tongue. As my finger stroked the wall of her pussy she said breathlessly, “Not so deep.” I pulled back bit by bit, continuing to massage her with the tip of my finger. “A little more,” she coached, then suddenly exclaimed, “Right there! Oh my god, right there!”

  I was elated I’d found her G-spot, albeit with a little help, and I began to stroke it and the surrounding area.

  “Don’t stop,” Whitney said. “That’s perfect.”

  I continued, increasing the pace of both my finger and tongue. Her moans became louder and more frequent as she pulled my face hard against her.

  “Oh fuck!” she cried, her back lifting off the bed as she ground against my mouth. Whitney’s moans were the sexiest I’d ever heard as she was completely overcome by her orgasm. I continued to lick, trying to make her come harder and longer until she pushed my head away from her. I looked up, my face shiny with her juices.

  “You did great,” Whitney said as she caught her breath. “Oh my god.”

  Her body glistened with tiny beads of sweat. “Do that for me,” I begged, desperate for release. “I want to feel that.”

  Whitney smiled and said, “I’d love to.”

  She roughly pushed me onto my back, then sucked hard on my nipple as she dropped her hand between my legs. I gasped as Whitney’s finger slid inside me and began probing, searching. I hadn’t had a real person inside me in ages and it felt wonderful. A second finger easily slipped into my wet pussy. I moaned as she found my G-spot and nearly screamed when she delicately bit my nipple.

  Whitney knelt between my legs, spreading them wide. I felt a little self-conscious about having a woman — especially my new friend — looking at my pussy. She grinned mischievously and held up the glass dildo. Sure, it wasn’t a real cock, but I was so ready that I bit my lip and nodded. Whitney lowered her mouth onto the dildo, showing off by taking the entire shaft all the way to the glass balls.

  Whitney pressed the glass head against my pussy, separating my lips as she slowly pushed it into me. I exhaled audibly as she worked the entire length in, moving my hips toward her hand, wanting more. Her finger found my clit and rubbed little circles around it. While I had felt like a beginner with Whitney’s body, she was obviously more comfortable with a woman and knew just what to do.

  As she played with my clit, she thrust the dildo in harder. I looked over at the computer, remembering that M was watching us. I imagined him sitting on his couch, stroking his engorged hard-on as he stared intently at the screen in front of him — only now I could also picture his face.

  Whitney removed her finger and replaced it with her tongue, lapping skillfully at my swollen clit. She was fucking me hard now, pounding me with the fake cock, the rhythm perfectly synchronized with her tongue. I moaned loudly as I felt that familiar tension building and began to fuck back against the dildo, meeting Whitney’s thrusts with my own. I looked at the computer again and felt myself plummeting over the edge.

  I cried out as the first waves of my orgasm wracked my body. Grabbing Whitney’s head, I pressed her against me while she continued to fuck me hard. Surge after surge coursed through me and I moaned as Whitney’s tongue wrung every last spasm out of me. When the throes of my orgasm had diminished, she rose from my pussy to lie next to me, leaving the dildo buried deep inside me.

  Whitney gently played with my nipples and smiled. “Wow, that was intense. I could tell you really needed that.” I nodded. She was so sweet, but I couldn’t tell her what I really needed was M.

  “I’ll go make us some drinks,” she said while scrambling out of bed. I watched her lithe body as she crossed the suite. I’d always longed for a body like that, but now I was with a man who preferred mine — my curves, my wider hips, my belly, my much larger breasts. I suddenly wanted to talk to M, to know if he approved of what I’d done. I picked up my phone from the nightstand and texted him.

  Did you like that? Are you hard?

  As I was staring at Whitney’s adorable butt, he replied.

  Yes and yes. As a rock.

  He texted again.

  If only that were me inside of you right now.

  I’d forgotten the glass dildo was still inside of me. I smiled as I touched the dildo, imagining it was M’s hard cock, then slid it out. I texted M back.

  Now there’s room for you. Just say the word, M, and I’m all yours.

  Would he know I meant more than just sex? More than just his sub?

  Whitney returned with our drinks. “Is that M? Ask him if he wants to see more.”

  We were both startled to hear a voice from the computer.

  “Yes, I want to see more. And I can hear you.”

  We laughed, not realizing M was also receiving audio over the Skype connection.

  Whitney leaned in, her naked butt facing the computer, and whispered in my ear, “You okay with continuing? I don’t think we have a choice.”

  I grinned and whispered back, “Then it’s a good thing I’m having fun.”

  Refusing to include M in our private exchange, we continued to whisper.

  “Did you like it?” Whitney asked. Her hand found my breast and squeezed gently. “Your first time with a woman?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m glad it was you. But won’t this change our friendship?”

  “Not if we don’t let it,” she said. “Whatever happens in this bed tonight is our little secret, our one-time fling, the night we really got to know each other.”

  I smiled, happy to be there in that moment, then pressed my lips to Whitney’s and we slowly worked our way into round two.

  4

  I woke up Sunday morning in the plush bed in my room at the Nines — the bed where only hours before I’d had two huge orgasms with Whitney, and had somehow managed to give her two of her own. Rolling on my side, I saw her lying on the other pillow. I studied her delicate features as she slept, still amazed that I’d actually had sex with a woman, and even more surprised that I enjoyed it.

  After Whitney and I had worn each other out the previous night, the red light on my computer went dark, signifying that M terminated the Skype session. I convinced Whitney to stay the night and we ordered the most expensive desserts room service had to offer, along with a four-hundred dollar bottle of Cristal Champagne. When room service knocked, Whitney dared me to answer the door in my teddy. I instructed the stunned young black man bring everything over to the bed, where Whitney lay on top of the covers in her skimpy babydoll.

  As I signed the bill, Whitney chided, “Give him a huge tip — or maybe he has a huge tip for you.” We giggled like teenagers, continuing long after he’d left. After too much champagne and sweets, we fell asleep still wearing our new lingerie.

  Careful not to awaken Whitney, I quietly slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom. When I returned, she was awake and slipping out of her babydoll. “I need to get going,” she said, standing naked in front of me. I took another look at her body as she located her clothing, knowing it would be the last time I saw Whitney nude. She slithered into her panties and tight little dress.

  “I had a wonderful time with you, Rachel,” she said, sliding her arms around my waist. Still wearing my teddy, I hugged her tightly. As we broke the hug, Whitney put a hand on my breast and squeezed gently.

  “Damn, I really love these tits,” she said with a grin.

  We shared a chaste little kiss on the lips, then she put on her heels and I walked Whitney to the door. I stood there for a minute in the hallway as she sauntered away in what may have been the hottest walk of shame ever. She stoppe
d at the end of the corridor and looked back. Seeing me standing there, she smiled and waved. As she disappeared around the corner I felt a twinge of sadness.

  Standing in the hallway of a hotel wearing nothing but a sheer teddy, it occurred to me that my boldness would thrill my dom. I ducked back in the room and texted M.

  I’m awake if you want to talk.

  Within minutes I heard a Skype call on my computer. I carried the computer to the bed and lay back, then clicked the “answer” button.

  “Good morning, M,” I said, feeling sexy in that big bed. M was seated on his couch, this time wearing dark gray sweats and a plain white T-shirt. The wristwatch was gone. It was the most casual I’d seen him, and M made casual look hot.

  “That’s a lovely outfit you’re wearing,” he said.

  “Like it?” I asked. “My boyfriend bought it for me.” I’d never called him that before and waited for his response.

  He chuckled but didn’t acknowledge his new label. “I was proud of you last night.”

  “Thank you,” I said, “but I was just following orders.”

  “True. But you were enthusiastic. You obviously enjoyed yourself.”

  I blushed and smiled. “I really did. Did you enjoy watching?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It was amazing, watching the two of you.”

  I cringed at the thought of him seeing Whitney’s perfect body next to my large one.

  “I hope it satisfied your needs,” he said.

  Though it wasn’t a question, M seemed to be waiting for a response.

  “It was a surprisingly fun diversion,” I said, “and being brought to orgasm by another person was—”

  “Twice.”

  “Twice,” I confirmed. “I needed those orgasms. But if you’re hoping I’m secretly bi, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

  “I wanted to give you the sexual contact you have been craving, that’s all. And sure, I knew it would be hot to watch you with another woman.” He paused then asked, “Isn’t it the same, though? An orgasm is an orgasm.”

  I gave the camera my most soulful look and said, “Maybe orgasms aren’t really what I’ve been craving.”

  My meaning seemed to sail right over his head. “So it’s the body,” he said. “You want to be with a man.”

  I sighed. M was either clueless or purposely obfuscating the point. In a sultry voice I said, “You should have joined me and Whitney in this bed last night. You could have had both of us.”

  “No thanks,” M said. “I’m not into that scrawny-body type. That doesn’t excite me.”

  He obviously wasn’t talking about my body. “Are you saying you couldn’t get it up for Whitney?”

  “I’m not saying I couldn’t,” he said, “just that I wouldn’t want to.”

  “She has an amazing body, M.”

  “Whitney’s a very cute girl,” he said, “but she doesn’t look like a woman to me.”

  Wow. I thought her body was the kind every man wanted.

  M added, “If I were going to be with a woman, she would look like you.”

  His statement struck me as vague. “So then any curvy chick would do?” I asked, a slight edge to my voice.

  M hesitated, then said, “Let me rephrase that: I would want to be with you, Rachel.”

  It was exactly what I wanted to hear.

  “I wanted you in this bed with me last night, M.“ I said. “I want you in it right now.”

  He shifted on the couch but said nothing.

  “Please, M? I know it’s out of place for me to say this, but it’s time. Haven’t I earned your trust?”

  Still no reply. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to, including sleep with a woman. I’ve earned the right to meet you in person.”

  M leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  “I don’t want a woman, I want a man.” I was on the verge of tears. “I want you, M. I want to feel our bodies touch, to feel you inside of me.”

  He mumbled something I couldn’t decipher, then stood up and walked offscreen. A moment later he returned and sat on the edge of the couch.

  “I can’t,” he said calmly. “Not yet.”

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Goodbye for now,” he said.

  “Wait!” I urged, only to see the screen go blank.

  I knew M wouldn’t call back for a while. I ordered breakfast from room service, but wasn’t hungry and just picked at my French toast. Around eleven, I gave up hope and gathered my things to go home. As I was slipping on my shoes, M texted me.

  Okay. Take a shower and get dressed. Be ready in an hour.

  I was stunned. Certain that I’d somehow convinced M to come to the hotel, I jumped in the shower, my brain humming and my body re-energized. I was ecstatic my patience had finally paid off.

  I had housekeeping clean the room and change the linens while I waited, unsure what to wear to meet M. I wanted to surprise him with my boldness, so I wore my black pants and the sheer blouse he’d bought me — only I would answer the door with no bra underneath.

  As I waited anxiously, I re-read M’s text.

  Okay. Take a shower and get dressed. Be ready in an hour.

  I was giddy with excitement and felt as though electricity were coursing through my body.

  At five minutes after noon, there was a firm knock on the door. This was the moment I’d been waiting and hoping for over the last two months. I took a breath and opened it with a big smile.

  “Hello, Rachel.”

  5

  The man standing outside the door was not M. It took a second for me to recognize him, but it was Derek, the man I’d flirted with at Club Sesso just two nights earlier.

  “Derek?”

  He stepped into the room and I was too stunned to stop him.

  “You look amazing,” he said, drinking me in. “That’s very sexy.”

  The blouse and my exposed tits were the least of my concerns. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to hide my confusion.

  “I got your text and came right over,” he said. “Is there something wrong?”

  “My text?” I asked.

  He pulled out his phone and showed me the text.

  Hi Derek, it’s Rachel — we met at Sesso. I’m all by myself in a suite at the Nines and would love for you to join me. We’ll have fun while my boyfriend watches on Skype. Be here at noon, room 1427.

  It had to be M. What the fuck was he doing? Why this ongoing torture?

  Derek was staring at me, waiting for me to say something. He was well dressed, looking elegant and sexy. “Oh, of course,” I lied. “Sorry, I’ve had a weird morning.”

  “Well, I’m glad you invited me over,” he said. “I was disappointed that we couldn’t hook up at Sesso.”

  I told him to make himself at home, that I needed a minute. On the way to the bathroom, I grabbed my phone. Once inside, I called M and he answered immediately.

  “M, what’s going on?” I demanded in a whisper. “Why is Derek here?”

  “I saw you flirting with him at Sesso,” he said. “Andre actually knows him, so it was simple to arrange. I knew he’d be game. What man wouldn’t want to have sex with you?”

  “You, apparently,” I whispered loudly. “Am I to understand you want me to sleep with Derek now?”

  “Yes,” M said as my heart sank. “You and I cannot meet just yet, so I’m giving you the next best thing.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “You’ll sleep with Derek and imagine you’re with me.”

  It was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. “That makes no sense,” I said. “I want you, not Derek.”

  “You can’t have me now,” he reiterated. “And you’ll do what I tell you to do.”

  I paused, holding back tears. “And you want me to fuck Derek while you watch?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I don’t want Derek. It’s you I want, M. Only you.”

  My heart was pounding.
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  “Do as you’re told, like a good sub.”

  I sensed he was through discussing it. I stared at my phone, numb.

  “Now, Rachel.”

  I nodded, then couldn’t stop myself from saying, “But first, I have something to say to you.”

  “Go ahead,” M said.

  I gathered my courage. “You are the weirdest, meanest boyfriend I’ve ever had. I’m not even sure I like you anymore.”

  After a pause M said, “Noted. Now go fuck Derek.”

  He hung up. I looked at myself in the mirror and dabbed away the tears. Despite the blouse, my nipples were as visible as if I were topless. No wonder Derek was staring. I looked sexy and pretty and goddammit why didn’t M want me?

  I returned to the suite and Derek stood as I approached him.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Everything’s fine,” I said, trying to smile. “I’m glad you could come on such short notice.” I opened the mini-bar and grabbed two bottles of Belvedere. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like in there,” I said.

  “I’m good,” Derek said, “but you go ahead if you want.”

  I’d already downed one bottle. I took Derek’s hand, aware that he was still staring at my tits, and led him to the bedroom area. I pulled up Skype on my computer, then called M’s account. He answered quickly as I was drinking the second vodka.

  “Hi, baby,” I said into the computer, exaggerating each syllable. “Look who’s here with me.” I pulled Derek into frame. He nodded at M’s torso, then the screen went dark while the little red light remained on. “Don’t worry,” I said to Derek with a smile, “he’s still watching. He doesn’t want to miss a minute of this. He’s weird that way.”

  “And I’m so glad he is,” Derek said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. He lowered his mouth to mine, his tongue searching for my own. After kissing Whitney the night before, I had to adjust to the stronger, more aggressive kiss of a man. Only I didn’t want to kiss this man; I wanted to kiss M.

  Derek’s hands roved over me and had my blouse off in no time. As he fondled my breasts, I unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. He had a broad, sculpted chest with a faint trace of hair. His shoulders, arms and abs reflected a lot of time spent in the gym. I ran my hands over his pecs, then felt his ab muscles.