Both brothers bucked their hips, fucking my mouth and pussy until my body felt like it was melting from the pleasure. These two men knew how to please me, as if it were instinctual. I thrust Blake’s cock deep and deeper into my throat, loving the sensation of his long rod filling up my mouth while his brother pummeled me from behind with relentless thrusts. Harder, and faster, they fucked me until my body reached the crest of the wave and time seemed to shatter. I cried out as an orgasm rolled out from my core and spread over my body in intense waves of pleasure. My quivering pussy and sloppy mouth sent the brother’s over their brinks as well and they came as one, shooting thick streams of hot, creamy white cum into my mouth and deep in my pussy.
I eagerly lapped up every drop of cum from Blake’s cock as Bard gently eased himself out of my dripping pussy. He held me against his chest while Blake kissed my forehead and smoothed down my hair.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Ashia?” Blake asked me gently when my breathing and heart rate had slowed to an almost normal level.
“That was incredible,” I replied in a small whisper. “I’ve never felt so….”
“Alive?” Bard offered.
“Connected?” Blake added.
I nodded. “Both. I guess I just really am meant to be with you two. After that, I can never leave you. Something inside me tells me that I’m meant to be yours and you two are meant to be mine.”
“We are so glad to hear it,” Blake said, smiling at his brother as he gripped my hand gently in his.
“And we promise to fuck you like that every day of your life,” Bard added.
“Can we try again before tomorrow?” I asked with a cheeky smile.
My Billionaire Boss
(An Interracial BWWM Billionaire Romance)
By Sandra Bosslin
Copyright 2015 Sandra Bosslin
All rights reserved.
My Billionaire Boss
(An Interracial BWWM Billionaire Romance)
Book design by Sandra Bosslin
“That’ll be sixty-five dollars,” the white woman behind the thick plastic window said disinterestedly, tapping her long nails against the counter.
I looked at the stack of bills I had just counted, as if I could will them to multiply. “I’ve only got fifty-eight,” I said in a small voice, hoping the woman would take pity on me. Maybe she had a daughter at home. Maybe she had once been in my situation.
“Come back when you have sixty-five,” the woman replied in a snappy voice.
I lowered my head, trying to hide the tears that were springing to my eyes. The last bus of the day was leaving in five minutes and I didn’t have enough money to get home to the boring state where I’d grown up so I could admit to my parents that I had failed, that they had been right all along.
I moved to the big city to pursue my wild dreams of being a famous artist. I had moved in with a guy, of course. I thought we were in love. He was a white guy and a musician and we had planned an amazing bohemian lifestyle that would morph into a life of fame and fortune. Of course, it didn’t work out that way. I had struggled to find any work, my waitressing job leaving me so tired that I barely had any energy to paint. And then I finally got fired, only to come home and find my boyfriend in bed with a tiny white ballerina who barely looked legal.
After a shouting match, it finally came out that my boyfriend thought I was a chubby black chick, washed up, and not a real talent. He would rather be with his skinny white ballerina (and her daddy’s trust fund) so I had packed up my few belongings and stormed out.
The problem was, I was too broke to even get back to my parents and beg them to house me until I was able to get on my feet a pursue a more practical career and find a nice black guy like they had always wanted.
I made my way to the wooden bench outside and dropped my small pile of bags to the floor. A wave of hopelessness washed over me and I finally let the tears I’d been bottling up to freely flow down my cheeks and splash onto the old wood. I had taken a risk, pursued my passion, and believed in love…and all it had brought me was despair.
“Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but notice you here looking so sad. Would it be alright if I sat here next to you?”
I looked up to see a very handsome, rugged-looking white man staring down at me. He had a chiseled jaw and dark brown hair that brought out the golden tones of his tanned skin and the flecks of gold in his piercing green eyes. It was hard to look away and I found myself at a complete loss for words so I merely nodded sadly.
“I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I’ve been wondering why such a beautiful woman would be sitting here looking so very sad,” the man said quietly as he sat down next to me.
“My life kind of just unraveled,” I admitted, trying to discretely wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I moved here to be an artist and live with my boyfriend but I failed and he cheated on me with this skinny white chick. I was going to give up and go home to my parents, but I couldn’t even scrounge together enough for the bus fare so now I’m stuck here with no money and nowhere to go.”
I stopped talking, realizing it might sound like I was hosting my own pity party. I wasn’t sure what had made me be so suddenly forthcoming, but something about this attractive white stranger next to me made me feel like opening up and bearing my soul.
“That’s a hell of a lot of bad luck,” the stranger noted, gently picking up my hand and holding it. His palm was warm and rough and somehow it comforted me more than I expected. “I just came in from a visit out of town and was about to head back to my place. If you need a place to stay, you are welcome to come with me. I have a spare room and it seems like you could use some rest. Tomorrow we can figure out how to get you wherever it is you are heading.”
I wasn’t usually the kind of girl who would go home with strange men, but something made me trust this man, and it wasn’t like I had many other options anyway.
“Thank you,” I sighed with relief. “I’m Marissa, by the way.”
“What a beautiful name. Pleased to meet you, Marissa. I’m Gabe.”
I followed Gabe to his car and he helped me place my bags in the trunk. He only had one small duffle bag to fit in next to my little assortment. “I was out camping,” he said with a smile when he noticed my curious look at his dirtied, roughed up bag.
Luckily, his apartment was the precise opposite. It was hugely spacious and beautifully furnished and smelled of lemon. It must have cost a fortune in rent. Despite being impeccably clean, it felt warm and homey.
“Do you like pasta? I could make us some dinner while you shower and get settled. The spare room is to your left and the bathroom is right next to it,” Gabe explained.
I washed up quickly, allowing myself just a few minutes to bask in the comforting stream of warm water and the wonderful smell of the herby soap that Gabe kept in the shower. Every detail about him was masculine in the sexiest way imaginable.
By the time I had dried off and changed into a clean dress, Gabe had whipped up a delicious looking pasta dinner complete with a tasty side salad. I could feel my stomach growling as the scent of garlic wafted from the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten for over a day and it was only just hitting me that I was famished.
“That smells delicious,” I said as I walked into the kitchen where Gabe was expertly plating our food.
“You look gorgeous,” Gabe replied, his eyes sweeping over my body. “And your timing is perfect. Let’s eat. You look very hungry, even though you look less sad now.”
I couldn’t help matching his infectious smile with my own. Being around Gabe just made me happier, made me feel like there was still hope.
The dinner was delicious. I had to suppress a few moans as the warm, savory pasta hit my lips. But Gabe seemed appeared to appreciate my love of food and urged me to take another helping. Once my ravenous hunger was sated, I found myself chatting away happily with my gorgeous host. We talked about our favorite movies and works of literature, and he asked me about my family and my work as an artis
t. I shyly showed him a few of my recent works that I had managed to bring with me and he really studied them, asking me questions as he looked.
“These are truly beautiful, Marissa,” he said quietly. “They are haunting. You have such a real talent. Please don’t give up on it.”
“I wish I didn’t have to,” I replied sadly. “I just don’t have any other options left.”
Gabe studied me for a few minutes, seeming to weigh invisible factors in his mind. He took my hands in his and looked deeply into my eyes, his sharp green and golden irises searching my face for an answer to his unasked question.
“Marissa, there is something I need to tell you. It isn’t something I expected to tell you, especially so soon after meeting you. But my heart is telling me that you are trustworthy and that you deserve the truth.”
“The truth?” I asked, suddenly feeling very confused.
“Yes. The truth is that I am a billionaire. My family has always been incredibly wealthy and I was just picked to take over my father oil empire. This apartment is just one of many I own. I travel a lot for business and I’ve just never met a woman who wasn’t only interested in me for my money and really captured my heart. I…I’ve fallen deeply for you, very fast. I truly believe you are meant to be mine and I am meant to be yours. In fact, our company has been searching for a new artist, to draw designs for our new offices, paint the official portraits to be hung in our lobby, and several other important assignments. When I saw your paintings I knew that it was mean to be.”
Gabe stopped and looked at me with a mixture of hope and worry. I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts, but my head was buzzing. He must be crazy, right? It couldn’t possibly be true. He was a billionaire?
“Did I scare you off?” he asked nervously, looking into my eyes with an almost pleading expression.
“No, I’m not scared. Just…shocked,” I said, reaching out to touch his chest, to make sure he was real. He felt hard and warm, a real man.
Gabe pulled me to him, holding me tightly against his chest. And then suddenly, our lips were pressing together, his soft, warm mouth gently massaging mine, then devouring it. We kissed hungrily, passionately, our need and desire burning hotter with each passing moment.
I could feel the stiff bulge in Gabe’s pants growing larger and harder as it pressed against me. I could feel the heat in my core scorching hotter and hotter as his lips caressed mine. I needed him more than I needed oxygen.
“I love you, Gabe. I want to be yours,” I groaned against his warm mouth.
“I love you too. I need to have you,” was his hot reply.
His hands moved over my body, strong and confident. I could feel myself melting under his touch. My body stirred and I knew that I had to have him, to taste him. Gabe’s hands kept moving gently over me and I shuddered under his magical touch.
“Let me taste you,” I begged, reaching down to fondle the hard bulge in his pants.
Gabe groaned in response, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached down and freed his manhood from the confines of his pants. It was huge, longer and thicker than I had ever seen. I quickly bent down on my knees in front of him and cupped his swollen balls in my hands as I gently caressed the thick shaft.
My lips pressed against the slick, reddened head and parted to allow the long shaft to enter. His thick cock filled my mouth, tasting of delicious salty masculinity. I pumped him in and out of my mouth, over and over, savoring each drop of precum. He tasted more scrumptious than anything I had ever tried.
“Fuck, this feels incredible,” Gabe moaned. “You are so good at sucking me, Marissa. I love feeling your soft little mouth on my cock. But I want to fuck you now.”
I pulled back and wiped my lips, looking up at him with a naughty smile. He looked down at me, desire clouding his expression.
Gabe pulled me to my feet and gently pressed my back until I was bent over the back of his chair, gripping the arm rests to steady myself. He pulled aside my tiny lace panties and reached down to touch my slit. His fingers touched my slickness and he groaned again.
“You are so ready for my cock. I love how wet you are,” Gabe whispered hoarsely in my ear.
He poised his cock at my wet entrance and with one hard thrust his huge cock burst into me. I cried out at the pain of being stretched so wide, but the wave of pleasure that quickly overtook me replaced that pain in an instant. I felt so full, so stretched, and I wanted more.
“Fuck me hard,” I moaned as Gabe started to slowly move inside of me.
“Oh, you are such a naughty girl,” he groaned. “I love it.”
He gripped my soft, dark hips firmly and slammed himself into me hard until his cock was balls deep inside my pussy, filling me up all the way. It felt so good I cried out in pleasure, but Gabe wasn’t done with me yet. He slammed his cock into me over and over, harder and faster with each stroke.
I could feel my pleasure mounting, higher and higher, then peaking as I seemed to fall into an ocean of pleasure. The waves shot from my core, spreading through my body as I cried out incoherently. As my body convulsed in pleasure, Gabe came as well, his cock expanding and then releasing a thick stream of warm, creamy cum. He pulled out with a groan, letting the last spurts of his milky seed dribble out into my dark ass.
Gabe reached down and gently helped me up, holding me close to him gently as I stood. We leaned against each other, breathing deeply for a few moments to recover from the explosive pleasure we had just shared.
“Mmm, that was incredibly,” I finally whispered, smiling up at my gorgeous lover.
“It was. You are incredible Marissa. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I replied.
“So will you accept my offer, and stay with me and be the company artist?” he asked hopefully.
“Of course. Thank you!” I said, throwing my arms around him. He kissed me gently and took my hands in his.
“So, since you are the CEO and I’ll be the artist working for your company, does that make you my new boss?” I asked with a smile.
“I guess it does,” he laughed. “Want to go take a shower with your new boss?”
“Hm…does the job description involve shower sex?” I asked.
“I think it just might,” my hot billionaire lover said with a laugh.
I giggled as he picked me up dramatically and carried me down the hall to the shower.
Surrender:
The White Billionaire’s Lover
(An Interracial BWWM Erotic Romance)
by Sandra Bosslin
Copyright 2014 Sandra Bosslin
All rights reserved.
Surrender: The White Billionaire’s Lover
(An Interracial BWWM Erotic Romance)
Book design by Sandra Bosslin
“Chanel, don’t forget to put all the nonfiction books and mysteries that the weird old guy left on the table back on their shelves.”
Jim wasn’t actually my boss, but he sure liked to act like it. We were both technically assistant librarians at the Joshua River Valley Public Library, but Jim had worked there for a few more months than me, so he figured that gave him the privilege to boss me around. I didn’t mind though. I liked my work because it let me indulge in my biggest passion in life.
I grabbed the cart and quickly loaded up the books the old man had left on the table and brought them back to their correct section. While Jim manned the front desk, I took the opportunity to browse the new releases and grab a new romance novel that had just come in the day before.
I had always been the shy, chubby black girl who loved books. I loved to read about the exciting, romantic, and erotic adventures that my favorite heroines would experience but my own life was far from adventurous. I had never had anything approaching an adventure and romance stayed far away from me. I knew by now that men preferred skinny white girls or flamboyant black girls with loud personalities to girls like me with dark skin and a more quiet nature. But that was alright, my books kept me company.
As I skimmed through the first chapter of the romance novel, I found myself falling into the story of the peasant girl who finally got a job working in the castle. Even though I knew the story would end with the prince sweeping her off her feet, I felt my heart pumping faster in my chest as she struggled to escape a cruel father and a penniless fate.
I was so engrossed in the novel that I hadn’t even realized how much time had gone by until I heard a deep chuckle to my left. I quickly dropped the book and spun around, coming fact-to-face with the most attractive white man I had ever seen. He looked like a cross between a model and a lumberjack, with thick dark hair, tanned skin and sparkling green eyes…and huge bulging muscles. Everything about him disarmed me instantly and all I could do was gape at him in silence. I had always been attracted to white men, but this man seemed like he was crafted straight from my most intimate fantasies.
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