But this isn’t the time to be rude.
“Hello Kathy,” comes my deep rumble. “How’s it goin’?”
The bulldog skids to a stop in front of us, her brow beetling. But her words are professional.
“Mr. Channing, it’s great you could make it. You know, your busy schedule and all that.”
I nod silently, covering Carrie’s hand with my own.
“That’s right, but tonight’s special. I think we’ll be honoring John Langlow for his contribution to the profession,” I say smoothly. “Can’t miss that.”
And Carrie covers my hand with her free one, stroking me gently. A shiver runs through my spine and my head jerks in her direction. But no one can see. Our hands are hidden by the angle of our bodies, and she smiles at Kathy then.
“Hi, I’m Carrie Newman,” comes that dulcet voice. “Nice to meet you.”
Immediately, I step in.
“This is my girlfriend,” I say in a deep voice. “Kathy, Carrie. Carrie, Kathy.” Oh shit, oh shit! I hadn’t meant to introduce the beautiful brunette that way, but what’s done is done. And besides, it sounds right. Carrie turns shocked eyes to me for a moment before turning back to Kathy and smiling sweetly.
“So nice to meet you Kathy,” she murmurs once more. “Did you do the marketing for this event? It’s fabulous,” she compliments.
And to my surprise, the conversation goes off without a hitch. Kathy and her minions are perfectly courteous, and Carrie answers each question with grace and elegance.
“Thank you,” she murmurs when the ladies compliment her dress. “I know Mason likes it,” the brunette laughs lightly, shooting a naughty look my way.
And I’m thunderstruck. Never have I been immobilized by one sweet thing, the look in her brown eyes, the way she teases and flirts openly with me. Usually, I can’t stand to be around women I date. They want to own me, constantly running long fingernails up and down my sleeve, one female even pinching my butt in public. Yeah, that didn’t go down so well.
But with Carrie, it’s different. It feels good being at her side, announcing to the world that we’re together. It feels incredibly right, and after Kathy leaves, I pull the brunette close.
“You were amazing,” is my whisper in her ear, tongue snaking out for a quick stroke along a soft earlobe. “Absolutely amazing.”
Carrie giggles and swipes at my arm, which had been crawling towards her round rump of its own accord.
“Stop that Mason,” she whispers. “We’re with your co-workers. Let’s talk later,” she promises, a sparkle in those eyes. And then we’re accosted by another group of people, eager to make our acquaintance.
Because the girl is entrancing. Every eye follows that curvy figure as she smiles and chitchats. Carrie is friendly and open, not at all intimidated by industry regulars three decades her senior. And me? I’m like a fucking lap dog, following in the girl’s wake, all the while staring worshipfully at that beautiful figure. It’s like I’m an appendage, nothing more.
Holy shit.
Who’d have known it would come to this?
Mr. CEO standing by the sidelines, beaming as his girl gets all the attention.
The master of the universe, brought to his knees by one sweet thing.
Because that’s how it is. Usually at these shindigs, people want to know me. I’m the guy in charge after all, holding the purse strings, their jobs at my fingertips. But tonight, it’s different. Tonight there’s a new star of the show, and that’s Carrie Newman. I don’t blame them. I’m starstruck as well. The female’s a nebula, blinding with her kindness and sincerity.
“Are you not having a good time?” Carrie whispers in my ear, mouth so close that it makes me shake.
“Of course I am, baby,” I pull her close. “Of course I am.”
“Then why do you keep checking the time?” she asks with a lilt to her voice. The female’s hand is resting on her hip, feigning attitude, but I know what this is really about.
“Because as much as I enjoy showing you off in public, I can’t wait to get you home so I can have you all to myself,” I growl, expression already going hungry. And her soft giggle is music to my ears.
“Well then, how much longer do we have to be here? Because I’ve got a surprise for you tonight,” she coos coyly, running one finger down the front of my shirt.
Shit, we shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t be openly flirting, not in front of all these professional acquaintances. But there’s a goofy grin on my face, a silly look complete with adoring eyes.
So I pull the brunette close, kissing that soft neck, uncaring of the onlookers. It’s strange, for sure. Usually, I hide my emotions, maintaining a mask of neutrality so that nothing can penetrate the shell. But now, all caution’s gone to the wind and I don’t fucking care. Mason Channing’s head over heels, folks. Yes, it’s true. She’s young, she’s luscious … and all mine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carrie
Coming to this function was unexpected, but it’s been good. People have been nice and not at all catty.
Because I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect at first. Usually, women aren’t so kind to me. They take one look at my curves and start thinking the wrong thing.
She’ll steal my boyfriend, they whisper.
She’s a ho, they gossip.
That girl only got Mason because she put out.
And words like that hurt a lot because the old saying’s not true. Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words sting even more. I know. My whole life, other people haven’t been so nice, even if it was just talk.
So I wasn’t sure what to expect at the gala, but everyone was perfectly polite. Maybe it was because I was with Mr. Channing. The CEO exuded confidence and dominance, darkly handsome in a black suit, blue gaze penetrating.
But now, at the end of the night, I’m worn out. My cheeks hurt from smiling constantly, and these heels are killing me. As if he can read my mind, the billionaire turns and meets my gaze from across the room.
The electricity is immediate.
My heart thumps loudly, adrenaline making me stand up straight.
And he walks over, strides long and sure.
“Hi gorgeous,” he says. “You ready to bust this joint?”
My answering smile is immediate.
“Yes please,” is my murmur. “If you don’t mind. Do you have to stay longer? I don’t mind,” are my hesitant words.
But the big man jerks his head.
“Naw, let’s go,” he growls. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”
And in an instant, we’re back in the limo, humming through the streets of Manhattan.
I thought I was exhausted.
Tired to the bone, ready to collapse after several hours on my feet.
But the moment we get into the apartment, fire rushes through my veins again.
Because I want him so bad. Those blue eyes all over my body, those hands on my curves. And yes, that dick in my cunt, making me feel good all over again.
“Big boy,” comes my low, throaty purr.
Mason’s eyes gleam.
“I thought you wanted to sleep?” he asks, one brow quirking. “I thought you wanted to get some zzz’s?”
I laugh slightly, edging onto his lap. He holds his glass away, the lowball of whiskey tinkling melodically.
But I’m doing more than that.
“Big boy, I have something for you,” is my husky smile.
His brow quirks again.
“What is it?”
The words are calm, but I can feel his erection jerk under my butt. And never breaking eye contact, I tug the top to my dress down, big boobies spilling out. Immediately, Mason ducks his head, meaning to catch a hard nip in his mouth. But I pull away, giggling.
“Big boy, like I said, I have something for you.”
He stares, blue gaze fierce.
“You better bring it then. Right now, pretty baby, because I ain’t waiting.”
A
nd giggling again, I bring that tumbler to my breast.
“You like whiskey?” is my seductive murmur, one finger tracing around the edge of my areola. “You like boobies? Well, how about both then?”
And leaning forwards, I dip my massive tit into the glass. It’s hard for sure. The creamy boob is so huge and luscious that I have to aim carefully, squeezing my flesh so that it can fit.
But finally, it’s done, and I pull back, nipple glistening under the light, coated with alcohol.
“How about both, big boy?” I coo, smiling lasciviously, grinding a little in his lap. “Twice as nice, right?”
Mason can’t be stopped now. In one fell swoop, his head’s on my breast, mouth suckling like a ravenous man. Oh shit, it feels good! My head falls back as cream rushes between my legs, pussy gushing freely now. Jolts run from my tip to my cunt, making me mewl and cry out.
“Oh god!” is my helpless coo. “Oh god, oh god!”
But Mason’s not giving up. Mouth against my breast, he growls.
“You asked for it, you dirty slut. You asked for this.” Because in the next second, he bites down hard on my breast, making me scream.
“Ahhh!” is my delighted cry. “Oh oh oh!”
Because the alpha’s working me over now. Taking my other tit in his hand, he squeezes and massages, then splashes whisky onto that breast as well. My entire dress is soaked now, but who cares? My billionaire’s got money, he’ll buy me another outfit. Another ten outfits, even if it’s to rip them off my bod.
Because Mr. Channing’s an animal now. The teasing’s got his cock hard, stiff as a hammer underneath my pussy, and with two big hands, he rips my dress straight down the middle.
“Oh!” I gasp, eyes wide and shocked. “Oh!”
But the billionaire’s look is grim.
“Like I said, pretty baby, you asked for it. Now dunk,” he commands, holding his glass out. There are still dregs of amber liquid left in the tumbler and I stare, dumbfounded.
“What …?” is my confused pant. “What?”
He growls.
“You heard me. Dunk your pussy in this. You wanted to mix alcohol in with our play, so do it.”
I can’t answer for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently. But then a protesting mewl comes out.
“But there’s not enough!” is my breathy pant. “There’s just a little bit of whiskey in there, and I can’t fit this into that,” I say as one small hand gestures to my steaming cunt.
Mr. Channing stares at the tumbler, contemplating. And then his head jerks.
“That’s true,” comes his harsh rasp. “So let’s do it another way, baby.”
Taking two fingers, he dips them into the glass, scooping up the remains of the whiskey. Then he inverts his hand, holding the two digits straight up like a mini-flagpole.
“Fuck my hand,” is his harsh command, blue eyes flaring. “Get up and fuck this.”
A gasp escapes my throat at his crude words. What? Excuse me?
But Mr. Channing’s relentless.
“You heard me,” are his ruthless words. “You wanted to play with fire, and now here it is. Ride my hand like a fucking joystick. I want this Jim Beam in that sloppy cunt before I fuck it.”
I want to protest. I want to scream and protest.
But it’s too late.
I started this, and now the game’s got out of hand.
So the only thing I can do is obey.
Levering myself up, I kneel on my knees, still straddling his lap. And never dropping eye contact, my hand reaches down to slip between my legs.
“Like this Mr. Channing?” are my breathless words. “Like this, Master?”
Because slowly, small fingers reach between my thighs to part my nether lips. And oh shit, but the scent of cream hits my nostrils then. If before, I’d been gushing bad, then now it’s even worse. Literally, a thin strand of juice leaks out of my pussy, dropping slowly to land on his cock.
Mason stares for a moment, transfixed. But then he jerks his fist again.
“Fuck it, baby. I want to see you work it.”
And putting both my hands on his broad shoulders, I raise up and position myself right above his fingers. Oh god, oh god. Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to lower myself down on his whiskey-covered digits, letting him stir my sweet cunt?
But the thing is that I want it. Bad. Desperately. I want to feel this aroused male in me, whether fingers, dick, or mouth. I need it, and like a whore, I lower myself, pussy opening and then swallowing that heavenly hand.
“Unnnh!” is my helpless cry, head tilting backwards, hips jerking slightly. “Oh unnnh!”
And oh shit, but as my cunt lips spread, everything goes black for a moment. Because it feels so good. He feels so good. And evidently, Mason agrees because that cock jerks beneath me, a wet spot appearing on the fabric.
“That’s it,” he grinds out. “That’s it, sweet girl. Now work it.”
And something in me bursts open. I was a virgin before I met the billionaire, an innocent who’d never had anything inside. Sure, I watched porn sometimes and read naughty romances, but nothing like this. My romance novels always involved a sweet prince who slayed dragons before rescuing the princess. Not a nasty alpha who wanted me to ride his fingers.
But it’s a new me. And with another throaty moan, I tilt my head back and squeeze my internal muscles, beginning the journey.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “Oh fuck you’re so young, so tight, so strong, my fingers are gonna break off.”
And I moan throatily, lost in the haze. Because right now, I’m going to take Mason for everything he’s worth. He wants me to ride his fingers? I’ll do it, no probl. I’m gonna fuck them like it’s the biggest and best dildo around. I’m gonna cram my pussy full, bucking and squealing like a whore.
So grabbing those big shoulders, I go for it. My hips start humping up and down, big buttocks bouncing like giant balls.
“Unnf! Unnf, unnf!” are my desperate heaves, boobies flying as my cunt gets fucked. “Unnf, unnf!”
And the big man’s transfixed, struggling to hold his hand in place as my pussy swallows him again and again.
“Unnf! Unnf, unnf!” come my desperate heaves once more.
“Aw shit aw shit aw shit,” he grunts, watching where our bodies join. Because the billionaire knows me better than I know myself. He can feel the internal spasms, the helpless jerks that precede an orgasm. And staring like a ravenous beast, the alpha curves his fingers just so, stroking a secret space within my interior channel.
“Oh FUCK!” is my delighted scream, pussy exploding into a million different pieces. “Oh fuck fuck fuck ohhhhh!”
Because Mason’s targeted my g-spot and it feels so good. My cunt muscles clamp down once, hard, on his fingers before flying into pieces, tremors wracking my sweet spot, internal muscles going wild.
“Fuck!” I scream again to the heavens, big boobies bouncing and jouncing in his face as I’m fucked down below. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
And literally, my vision goes dark then. The ecstasy is so powerful, so amazing, that I can’t see, tremors wracking my spine, cunt and ass clamping and clenching involuntarily.
When I wake, I’m in the big man’s bed, my entire form drained, helpless and limp. But Mason’s got me. Carefully, he sponges my forehead with a warm, damp cloth and then reaches down between my legs.
“Oh god!” I squeal. “Oh god, oh god!”
Because is he really going to …?
But no, Mason chuckles deep in his throat.
“Baby you were the best thing I’ve ever seen. So responsive, so fucking hot.”
My cheeks color involuntarily, and a full body blush runs down my frame.
“What are you doing?” is my helpless gasp. “Oh!”
Because the billionaire’s not doing anything nasty. In fact, the opposite. He’s carefully sponging my swollen lips, the insides of my thighs creamy and stained.
“I want you clean,” he growls lo
w in his throat, blue eyes fierce again. “Whiskey burns on sensitive tissues if you leave it too long,” he adds, staring at my sweetest space. “I don’t want this pretty pussy to suffer because we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot, sweetie.”
I stare, big boobies already beginning to rise, thighs spreading involuntarily. Oh god, oh god, what’s next? Even though the alpha literally knocked me out, my body’s already responding to his touch, ready to go where he leads.
“What, Master?” comes my helpless mewl. “What do you want?”
The dark man grins slyly, positioning himself between my legs.
“I want this,” he says and slowly, the billionaire lowers his head to lap at my anus.
“What?” comes my shriek, jerking up. He just touched me where? He just licked me where?
But the alpha won’t be deterred.
“That’s right, every part of you is tasty sweetheart. So get ready, because it’s coming.”
And suddenly, there’s pressure at my hole. WHAT? I jerk up halfway, staring at the man. But he merely stares right back, those blue eyes burning up my soul.
“You’re gonna get buttfucked honey. Get ready to get buttfucked hardcore, sweet girl.”
And the words are so dirty, nasty, and yet simple. Mason’s merely stating what’s going to happen like it’s a certainty. And I have no choice but to obey. So leaning back, my legs spread further as I will my sphincter to relax.
“Yes Daddy,” is my whispered reply. “Yes, buttfuck me, I’m yours.”
And with an approving growl, he laps at my clit, a tremor jolting through my frame.
“Good girl,” is his raspy growl. “Good girl, you know what to do.”
And lying back once more, I try to relax. I try to breathe deep, to remember all my yoga classes, to summon the Zen within. Not that it matters. Because Mason’s relentless, and the pressure against my asshole intensifies deliciously.
“Slow,” he growls. “Slow, slow, that’s it baby girl.”
Because with a pop, the tip of his finger slides into my anus.
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