Lush Curves (A BBW Erotic Romance)

by Delilah Fawkes

  “Jesus.”

  His breath tickled my lips. He pushed me back, grinding against me as he buried his face between my breasts, kissing and sucking, his mouth teasing me even as his body made mine cry out beneath him. I was breathless, reacting to his touch, the electricity in me rising to a fever pitch.

  The feel of his cock, stiff and hard against my clit made me bite my lip and moan. I wanted to reach down and free him from his slacks. I wanted to have the strength to push away and tug my skirt back down. I wanted... I was all wanting, all nerves, all pleasure, all doubt.

  He bit my breast, and I cried out, my body convulsing as I came against him. I squeezed him with my thighs, my whole body trembling as my core pulsed. I could feel my arousal soaking through my panties, and wondered if there would be a wet spot when he pulled away. I held him to me, my head spinning, savoring the way he moaned against me.

  He looked up at me, then, and I noticed his breathing was as ragged as mine, his eyes reflecting my need.

  I just came with my clothes on, I thought, horror overcoming the haze of pleasure surrounding me. I just dry humped my boss like we’re teens in my parents basement.

  “Aolani,” he breathed.

  He looked like he was going to kiss me again, and I knew if he did that, I’d let him do anything he wanted to. I’d make love to him, then and there, on top of the kitchen island while the curry bubbled over behind us. God, did I want to, but a part of me screamed at me to stop before things got too messy.

  I wanted to hold down this job. I needed to. It was too good an opportunity to screw up with sex, and things like this never ended well. I had to be responsible. I had to cool things down.

  I lowered my eyes, looking anywhere but into that piercing hazel gaze.

  “I’m sorry. I... I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  He tipped my chin up with his finger, making me meet his eyes. His brow furrowed as he gazed at me.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, it’s just... you’re my boss now...”

  He stared at me for a long, tense moment, and then backed away, letting me close my legs and pull my skirt down.

  “Of course,” he said. “No, you’re right.”

  I buttoned up, hating the tension now filling the room like a palpable haze. The rain still beat down outside, the wind and hail rattling on the deck. Without a word, Gavin stirred the pot, then handed me two plates and some cutlery.

  “Do you mind? The dining room’s just through there.” He gestured with his chin as he moved to the rice cooker with a wooden spoon.

  His voice was cold now, the huskiness from just moments before gone like it had never existed; his body language rigid and distant.

  I nodded and hurried out of the kitchen.

  ***

  Gavin

  As I watched her walk away, her hips swaying as she left the room, I groaned. I reached down and adjusted myself, my erection still painfully hard against my slacks.

  God, but that woman made me crazy. I’d lost my head, drinking in her scent as she stood so close, her breasts straining against the silk fabric of her blouse... I’d almost made love to her on the kitchen island, for fuck’s sake!

  No wonder she’d pushed me away. I was acting like a boor. But when I thought about her soft lips on mine, and the way she’d cried out as she shuddered in my arms, it was hard to think about anything else besides what it would be like to have her. To bed her. To sheath myself inside of her and feel her cumming around me.

  I slammed my hand down on the counter in frustration, then went back to spooning rice into the serving dish. It had been a long time since any woman had turned my head. Too long, if you listened to my brother’s nagging. But I couldn’t jeopardize a working relationship with Aolani. The business’ success depended on this new campaign, and she was exactly the kind of shake up our image needed. A lush, beautiful woman gracing the glossy ads aboard our yachts, beckoning the wealthy clients to choose us over any other brand. To imagine themselves living the good life with a knock out like her on their arm.

  I needed to be professional. Hell, I just needed to stop thinking with my dick.

  Thunder boomed overhead as I carried the dishes into the dining room. If this storm didn’t let up soon, she’d have to stay the night.

  We ate in painful silence for a few minutes, the scraping of forks over china driving me to distraction. I opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and poured her a glass, hoping to ease some of the tension. My eyes kept wandering down to a small tear in her blouse where I’d ripped the buttonhole in my hurry. I’d have to reimburse her for that. Shame welled up inside of me, remembering how I’d acted, how I’d practically torn her clothes off just hours after she’d agreed to work for me.

  This wasn’t like me. What on earth had come over me, and why didn’t I have better sense when I was around her?

  “This is delicious,” she said, breaking the silence. “Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” Her full lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Or do men like you have personal chefs?”

  I chuckled and took a sip of the wine. “My brother and I were taught by an old friend of the family.” Fiona, I thought. Her name in my mind still brought that pang of regret every time, even after all these years.

  “She was brilliant in the kitchen, and we were desperate to learn. My mother’s cooking was... eh... well, she preferred traditional Scottish fare, if that gives you any inkling. Let’s just say I’ve eaten more than my fair share of sheep’s stomach.”

  Aolani laughed and tasted her wine. “Well, that explains that. It sounds like you learned in self defense.”

  “Precisely,” I said.

  I could still remember the way Fi’s hands moved so nimbly when she was dressing the chicken, her paring knife darting back and forth like a rapier. The way the sunlight through the kitchen window danced over the copper in her hair as she moved.

  “I should learn to cook,” Aolani said, bringing my mind back from the highlands to this table, where it belonged. “Whenever I visit home, my cousin has nothing to eat but Spam musubi.”

  “Spam mu--?”

  “Musubi. A slice of fried spam on top of a block of rice, like sushi. I keep telling her, if you mold your sushi rice into shape using a Spam tin, you’re doing something very, very wrong.”

  I laughed then, imagining her in a kitchen full of frying Spam, trying to talk her sister into ordering in. It felt good to laugh with her, and even better to look into those dark eyes of hers and see them shining, full of mirth instead of doubt.

  Thunder crashed again, making the dishes rattle.

  “Aolani... I think you should stay here tonight. It’s not safe to drive, and it doesn’t sound like this is letting up any time soon.”

  She sucked on her lower lip, listening to the gail outside. “I... I suppose. But, I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “I have four bedrooms on this yacht,” I said, smirking. “You won’t exactly be a burden, my dear. Come on. I’ll show you to the guest suite, and let you get settled while I clear up.”

  I placed my hand on her lower back as I guided her through the hallway. Her warmth coupled with the smooth curve of her lower back as it met that glorious arse made my cock stir again. I cleared my throat and opened the door across from my own room.

  “Here you are. The bathroom is just here, through this door, and linens are in the closet.” I glanced down at her business attire. “I have some extra pajamas in the walk in and t-shirts in the walk in. Please, make yourself comfortable with any of them.”

  “Thank you, Gavin,” she said, pausing in the doorway and looking back at me. “For everything.”

  A moment passed between us then, unspoken words hanging in the air. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, biting back the words struggling to escape.

  I’m sorry.

  Stay with me tonight.

  Leave, before we both do something stupid.

  Finally, she nodded and moved into the
room.

  “Good night.”

  ***

  Lying in bed, bathed in the moonlight shining through the porthole, I thought of her, mere feet away, sleeping in the next room.

  Did she sleep naked like I did? Her body caressing the satin sheets? Was she awake, thinking of me? Would she run her hands over the swells of her breasts, imagining I was there with her, touching her, worshipping her body with my own?

  I reached down and wrapped my fist around my cock, stroking it slowly. I knew I shouldn’t think of her like this, shouldn’t want her, but I couldn’t help but imagine her coming into my room and slowly lowering her robe to the ground, letting me see every inch of her for the first time.

  Would she straddle me? Press her hot thighs against mine before taking me deep inside of her? Or would she brush her hair over one shoulder and grin before wrapping her lips around my shaft?

  My grip grew harder, my breath coming faster as I stroked myself, imagining her warm, wet mouth sliding over me, teasing and sucking. I grunted, imagining her breasts brushing my thighs, her taut nipples dark in the moonlight.

  My abs clenched, and I shuddered as I came, my body releasing its tension, all of its frustrated wanting into my hand. But even as I tried to calm myself and push her from my mind, her name was on my lips.

  “Aolani.”

  I was in serious trouble, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  It was going to be one interesting journey.

  ***

  To Be Continued…

  Look out for the next installment of LUSH CURVES, coming soon!

  ***

  If you loved The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, keep a lookout for a new erotic romance novel, coming soon from Delilah Fawkes! To keep up with her new releases, sign up for her newsletter here.

  ***

  About the Author

  A former kindergarten teacher, turned raunchy smut slinger, Delilah Fawkes delights in bringing you only the naughtiest of stories for your reading pleasure.

  From schoolgirls getting spanked, to people literally getting tied up at the office, she loves bringing the hottest stories straight to your kindle.

  Enjoy, and keep a lookout for more sizzling stories that will make you need some "alone time!"

  For more Delilah Fawkes stories, visit her blog or check out her author page.

  Other Stories by Delilah Fawkes:

  Erotic Romance

  Teaching Him: The Droid Who Loved Me, Part 1 (Sci Fi Erotic Romance)

  Wanting Him: The Droid Who Loved Me, Part 2 (Sci Fi Erotic Romance)

  Needing Him: The Droid Who Loved Me, Part 3 (Sci Fi Erotic Romance)

  At His Service: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 1 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Mercy: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 2 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Command: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Insistence: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 4 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Instruction: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Word: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 6 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Desire: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 7 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Warning: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 8 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  At His Side: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 9 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

  My Best Friend’s Brother (An Alpha Male Erotic Romance)

  My Best Friend’s Brother 2 (An Alpha Male Erotic Romance)

  My Best Friend’s Brother 3 (An Alpha Male Erotic Romance)

  Erotica

  Babysitting Daddy

  Babysitting Daddy 2

  Blackmailed by the Professor (M/f/m Menage)

  Disciplinary Action (Office BDSM)

  Disciplinary Action 2: Reprimanded (Office BDSM)

  Getting Off (Police Officer BDSM)

  My Best Friend’s Daddy

  My Best Friend’s Pussy

  Yes, Professor

  Yes, Professors

  BONUS MATERIAL

  Love bad boy billionaire’s? Then check out this sneak peak of the bestselling erotic romance series, The Billionaire’s Beck and Call:

  At His Service

  I rapped on the mahogany door at the end of the executive wing, and tried to steady my breathing.

  “Come in.”

  “Here goes nothing,” I whispered, and entered the office, trying to hold my chin high.

  Mr. Drake looked up at me, his green eyes intense, but the emotion behind them unreadable. Was he angry with me? Had I embarassed him somehow? I was so inexperienced, I was positive it wasn’t good.

  “Ms. Willcox, come here.”

  I smoothed my hands over my skirt and took a few steps toward the chairs in front of his desk.

  “Did I say you could sit there? Come here. To me.”

  I paused, shifting uncomfortably on my feet.

  “Are you deaf? I said come here.”

  His sharp tone sent a shiver down my spine. I set my jaw and walked around the desk until I was just inches away from him. He spun in his chair toward me slowly and leaned back, a smirk playing over his handsome face. For a long moment, he just looked me over, appraising me, then staring into my eyes to see if I would look away, I suppose.

  I didn’t.

  “Take a seat here. On the desk.”

  His voice was a low whisper, his eyes intense.

  I hesitated the briefest of moments, but then a little voice inside my head said He’s messing with you. He wants to see if you’re afraid. I glared back at him. I needed to show him he didn’t intimidate me, no matter how rich and powerful he was.

  I hopped up on the edge of his desk, and crossed my bare legs demurely. His eyes roamed over my exposed skin, stopping at my hem line, before moving up my body to my breasts, straining beneath my blouse. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but I felt so vulnerable this close to him, especially when he looked at me like that.

  “What do you know about me, Isabeau?”

  He leaned forward, and I forced myself to stay still instead of shying away. He was so close that I could smell the subtle notes of his cologne: musk and wood with a hint of leather.

  “My apologies… May I call you Isabeau?” He smiled up at me, dazzling me for a moment.

  “Of course.” My voice sounded high and breathy. I gripped the edge of his desk, trying not to fidget.

  “Good. What have you heard about me, Isabeau? What do you really know about me?”

  What did he want me to say? That everyone said he was an ogre? Or that they all wanted to sleep with him anyway?

  “I…”

  “Go on. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

  He was still smiling, slight dimples visible in both cheeks. The sight was destracting, to say the least.

  “I know that you’re the youngest CEO and partner in the company’s history, and I know that you earned the spot by working your way up after graduate school instead of using your inheritance as a crutch.”

  “Everyone knows that. What do you know about me? The real stuff. None of this press release bullshit.”

  I looked down at my hands, anything not to have to look up at his face so close to me.

  “Um. People say… they say that you’re scary. And that your assistants don’t last long.”

  He laughed, a deep, warm sound that seemed to fill up the office. I glanced up to see him smirking at me. I relaxed my grip on the desk a little. Maybe I wasn’t being fired after all.

  “What else do they say?”

  Oh, God. He can’t possibly want me to tell him everything. Does he? The look on his face confirmed that he did. It was clear by the way he looked at me that I wasn’t leaving this office until I gave him exactly what he wanted.

  “They say. Um… They say that you’re very, uh, good looking… and impossible to please.”

  “Oh t
hey do, do they?” He sat back, and tented his fingers beneath his chin. “Well, do you agree with them? Do you think I’m scary, handsome and woefully unsatisfied?”

  My mouth dropped open, and I quickly closed it with a snap.

  “Yes. I mean, no! I mean, I don’t know…”

  He stood, then, and leaned in close, towering over me. “You were right the first time.”

  Anxiety coursed through me, but I have to admit, being this close to him, smelling his scent and feeling the heat radiating off his body, it made me wonder what it would be like to be in his arms. To be his. To be owned by him…

  His face was almost touching mine when he whispered to me. “I am unsatisfied, Isabeau. I want you to be my new assistant. Will you do that for me? Will you be at my beck and call?”

  My breath left me as his words sunk in. When I finally regained it, I felt like I was trembling from head to toe. His beck and call.

  “Wh-what about your old assistant?”

  Mr. Drake leaned back again and took my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes to his. “What about her? I want you.”

  His touch on my skin was electric. Are we still talking about business?

  “Yes, Mr. Drake.”

  His thumb stroked my cheek for the briefest of moments, and then he released me, breathless, and wondering what I’d just agreed to.

  “Very good, Isabeau. I’ll expect you here at 8 a.m. tomorrow, in my office, ready to work. Don’t be late.”

  He turned away, effectively dismissing me. I hopped down off the desk and quickly made for the door. I didn’t want to give him time to change his mind.

  “And Isabeau?”

  I turned back, my hand on the knob. “Yes, Mr. Drake?”

  “I don’t tolerate sloppy work. Disappoint me, and there will be consequences.”

  I blushed, and nodded, then closed the door behind me.