101 Nights Box Set: Volume One

by SE Reign

  I bite back a groan. I never knew something so simple could give me such pleasure! His hot tongue swirls and licks, his teeth grazing the tip. He nips it hard, and I jerk, not expecting the strange combination of pleasure and pain.

  “I like a little pain,” he says with a wicked smile.

  What have I gotten into?

  He dips his head and grips my nipple with his front teeth, pulling then releasing. The pain is like an exquisite pinprick, and I can’t determine if it hurts or feels good.

  “It’s our first time. We can go traditional,” he decides, and positions himself again to enter me.

  I spread my thighs instinctively, almost quivering at the thought of having him inside me. The idea that he’s a complete stranger no longer freaks me out. If anything, it’s thrilling – an adventure. Like a forbidden affair with the married neighbor.

  This man doesn’t know me at all. I can be whoever I want to be or at least, not be who I usually am: the conservative press release secretary for a big shot lawyer.

  “The second time is my choice.” He smiles.

  I don’t think I can trust that smile or the way he looks at me so hungrily. He feeds the weird, animal magnetism that makes being in bed with a stranger not only natural, but also necessary. Desperately necessary.

  I crave him, this stranger.

  His lips return to mine, and I kiss him deeply, mesmerized by the rhythm of his tongue in my mouth and his light flavor.

  The tip of his dick slides into me, and he pauses.

  “Relax your muscles. I’m big,” he purrs.

  I force my lower body to do as he says. He moves into me inch by inch, and he takes his time to keep from causing pain. My body adjusts to his incredible size. His dick fills me in a way nothing else ever has. I feel skewered on his steely cock. He stops again once he’s full in, and I test my lower body, squeezing him. He’s so hard and huge.

  “Oh, yes!” I break away from his kiss. He feels incredible inside me.

  “You’re so fucking juicy and tight. You have no idea what I plan on doing to you the next three months,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m going to make you come in ways you didn’t think possible. I’ll fuck you inside out, lick your cunt dry, come in your ass with you screaming my name …”

  I’ve never, ever heard anyone talk dirty, and I never thought I’d like it.

  But I do. It’s making my blood heat faster. I’m trembling in anticipation and fascination of everything he says he’ll do to me, including the things I would’ve balked at, if my exes had wanted to do them.

  He starts to thrust as he’s talking, his huge cock rubbing against my G-spot in a way I didn’t know was possible, sending tiny new sensations of pleasure pulsing through my body. His hips are pressed to mine, the skin above his dick rubbing hard against my clit.

  I’ve never felt this dual pleasure, the building of need and desperation from inside my pussy and my clit simultaneously. It’s incredible … I feel like I’m floating, like I just need a little more pressure from him to reach some incredible climax I didn’t know was possible.

  He stops speaking, his kisses and nips running down my collarbone.

  “Faster,” I whisper.

  “Oh, no,” he says, lifting his head. “You come after I do.” The predatory gleam is in his eyes again.

  His mouth captures mine. His lips are full and soft, his kiss demanding. His velvety tongue explores the depths of my mouth, and I struggle to keep up with his intensity while he continues to thrust, driving me deeper into a state where I no longer care what he thinks if I have to beg.

  Because right now, I’ll do anything for him to thrust just a tad faster.

  “We’ll switch positions,” he says, withdrawing from my body. “On your belly.”

  Dazed, it takes me a moment to respond. His body covers mine as soon as I do, and he takes my hands, lifting them above my head. He traces his palms down my body and rests them on my ass.

  Is he really going to do what he said he would? He seems way too big to put his dick in my ass … there was some discomfort when he entered my pussy initially, and I’m not entirely certain I want him to try my ass. Though right now, I don’t know if I’d care, as long as he’s inside me.

  He settles between my legs, his cock sliding into my core one more time. I groan loudly but don’t care what he thinks. The deep penetration feels incredible, along with the gliding of my sensitive nipples and breasts against the silk sheets beneath me, the tug of friction at my clit.

  My body grows fevered from the inside out, and I start to move with him and claw at the bed, at the sensations.

  “Want me to fuck you harder?” he whispers against my ear.

  “God, yes!”

  “Say it.”

  “Fuck me … harder … faster.”

  “Louder.”

  “Fuck me … harder and faster!” I cry.

  He slams into me, quick and deep, each thrust pushing me closer to something amazing. Suddenly, he stops.

  “No!” I murmur.

  Without withdrawing from my body, he maneuvers us onto our sides then begins to pump once more. He pulls one of my legs back over his, one of his arms moving beneath my body.

  I’m sweating and close to desperate, focused on the slower thrusts and trying to spread my legs as wide as possible to increase the sensations.

  He takes my nipples in his fingers, teasing them into peaks then squeezing and holding. Hard.

  I gasp, one step closer to my release. One of his hands travels down my belly and pauses above my clit.

  “Yessssss!” I hiss, and push his hand down.

  His finger dips between my nether lips and strums the aching clit. I arch against him, and he squeezes a nipple even harder.

  “I’m … so close …” He sounds like he’s straining.

  I am, too, and wriggle … I feel like I’m lost in my body, savoring each tiny touch and yearning for so much more without being able to reach it.

  He pushes me onto my belly again, his fingers remaining on either side of my clit while he pounds into me from behind. I rub myself against him with increased desperation, and his fingers stroke me harder and harder, until I start to feel the tension of my body start to slide away …

  He gives one last thrust and stays deep inside me, his dick convulsing as he climaxes. His breathing hard, he pauses, pushing deeper.

  “Elijah …” I gasp, my own climax so close, I feel hysterical. If I don’t get it, if he denies me …. God, I’ll die!

  His fingers begin working again, this time slowly strumming my clit. The tension grows tauter, until I can hardly breathe.

  It snaps, and I give a muffled cry, collapsing against the bed. He continues to stroke me, pushing my orgasm higher. I’m lost in the waves of pleasure, unable to stop his fingers or recover.

  “Good,” he says, his hot breath tickling my ear. “You’re experienced enough to know what you like but not so much that you can’t be taught a few things.”

  His hand goes still, and our bare, slick bodies press together in the silence. He’s still inside me, but it feels like he’s getting hard again.

  Is that possible so soon?

  I shiver, my trembling body recovering slowly.

  He stays on top of me, continuing to touch me lightly in the quiet.

  “I love women,” he says, kissing my back. “Love the smell of their bodies, their hair. How soft their skin is.” He buries his face in my hair and breathes in.

  I kind of like the way he seems genuinely interested in my body. Sensual. Oblivious to the fact my thighs are a little too big and my back is scarred from an accident I had at camp when I was ten.

  “You taste as good as you feel, my farasha.” He shifts onto his side, pulling out of me, and slides a hand down to my ass then between my legs, his fingers sinking into my wet pussy.

  My breathing is already getting quicker at the intimate intrusion, our combined scent making me a little dizzy with anticipation.

&n
bsp; “Your body is perfect.” He sounds unusually satisfied. His fingers leave my core, and I hear him suck them clean.

  It’s a total turn on.

  “That’s just weird,” I say, still not quite able to believe I’m here, in bed with a stranger. One who can’t get enough of my body, no less.

  “What?” he asks, hand roaming my body again.

  “I’m as far from perfect as you can get,” I say jokingly.

  “You’ve been fucking the wrong men, if you think that. You’ve got an ass I want to bury my face and cock in, huge breasts, the perfect hourglass shape. You’re healthy and you take care of yourself. And you taste fucking fantastic, like some forbidden fruit. I want to taste every inch of your skin then swallow every last juicy drop from your pussy.”

  My whole body is fevered from the inside out at his words. Speechless, I feel both gratified and amazed. How can someone who cares for nothing but money be serious about loving my body?

  “In fact, that’s what I’ll do next,” he decides. He pushes me onto my back and settles on top of me briefly. After a quick kiss, he makes his way down my body.

  My skin quivers beneath his hot mouth and strong hands. The closer he gets to his destination between my legs, the warmer I become, and the faster my heart beats.

  His mouth finds my pussy, and I groan, spreading my legs farther apart. His tongue darts inside of me, and he laps up my juices hungrily. His fingers slide into my pussy as his mouth finds my clit. His teeth scrape the sensitive bud, followed by a hard stroke of his tongue.

  “Oh, god!” I gasp.

  He says nothing, focused on gently rubbing my G-spot while circling and teasing my clit. One of his fingers slides into my anus.

  He feels so good … so so good … I almost believe that he finds my body as beautiful as he claims …

  The tension inside me builds fast and I close my eyes and arch my back, letting the sensations carry me away.

  “I can’t drink enough of you,” his husky voice says. “God, the things I have planned for you …” He stops talking and returns to my clit, his tongue, teeth and lips working me over in ways I’ve never thought possible.

  “Yes, Elijah … more!” I whisper. “Please more!”

  He complies, and my world explodes into pleasure that grips me in waves I can’t control. His body covers mine, and he slides into my pussy so fast I cry out.

  “Yes … your cunt grips me so hard …” he whispers, moving fast and hard in and out of me. “Say my name, Natalie.”

  “Elijah,” I manage, overwhelmed by the sensations tearing through my body.

  “Louder.”

  “Elijah!”

  “Fuck yes!” He shouts, pounding into me and staying. His body shakes with his orgasm, and he lowers his head to nibble my ear.

  Our heavy breathing fills the air. I feel his dick rippling with the waves of his release inside me, and I wrap my arms around him.

  “If a man doesn’t fuck you like he owns you, find a new one,” he says, then kisses me deeply.

  Our tongues tangle, my nectar still on his breath and in his mouth. I can’t get enough of his kisses, of his hot skin against mine, of the enormous dick inside me.

  Three more intense rounds, and he seems content to take a break. I’m exhausted after the three hour fuck-a-thon and ready for a nap. To my surprise, he cuddles with me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me against his body.

  The sheets and room smells like us, an intoxicating mixture of our scents and sex. I like it a little too much. For a moment, I forget I’m sleeping with a stranger who wants to tear down the home where my parents and friends live.

  One who freely admits to having no heart and to care only for money.

  It’s weird, because he feels like a normal man with an incredible body. His strong arm is wrapped around my midsection, his warm skin pressed to my back. He breathes into my hair and even nibbles on it, as if he likes the passion fruit flavored shampoo I use. His touch is light now, where it was aggressive before, and his body is relaxed.

  Staring into the darkness, I try to figure out what to say. What I should be feeling. Guilt, yes, and embarrassment of how thoroughly he’s fucked me. He knows my body better than I do after all his explorations and intense lovemaking.

  I start to wonder what he’s thinking but then think ... do I really want to know? Isn’t it better to keep distance between us, because this is a business deal?

  A fucking insane one. One I’d already folded to and spent hours getting fucked hard by a man who not only turned the tables to blackmail me but also got me into bed with him.

  The worst part of all: I want more of him. What we’ve done doesn’t scratch the surface of the deep itch that makes me want to beg him to take me over and over again.

  “What’s your favorite color?” he asks.

  I start to laugh. “What?” It’s not the kind of question I’m expecting.

  “Your favorite color.” He nuzzles my neck and tucks me deeper into his body. His dick is hard again, long and thick against my ass. My core is already so wet, I feel like it’s sweating.

  “Purple-blue. Like tanzanite,” I reply.

  “Good choice.”

  “Why?”

  “If I am to convince people we are in love, I need to know everything about you.” The mocking note is back in his voice.

  I hate that tone. It reminds me he’s a jackass, even if he does cuddle after sex.

  “Mine is orange. I’m a Scorpio, one who insists on complete control of everything in my world, and my favorite food is ice cream,” he starts. “You wear jasmine perfume?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s jasmine growing beneath my window at my father’s palace. It’s my favorite scent.” His nose tickles the nape of my neck as he breathes in deeply.

  “Interesting,” I say. My heart is beating hard, and I’m too aware of his hands, which are idly stroking my sensitive skin. I want them to move farther south, to the part of me that burns.

  “That’s it?” he asks. “No questions about your future home? Doesn’t every little girl dream of becoming a princess?”

  “Maybe when I was three,” I retort. “But this isn’t real for one and second, I can do more good as a legitimate lawyer than a silly princess.”

  “You’re wrong on both counts. First, this is real. You need to believe that or you won’t be able to fake it. You seem too … honest to lie well. You are engaged to a prince, one powerful enough to destroy your parents’ lives, if you don’t make the world believe you are happily in love with me.”

  I swallow hard. I don’t know why that scares me. Cinderella never looked scared of Prince Charming.

  I bet Prince Charming wasn’t a dick.

  I have to admit he’s right. I should be psyched about playing this part, about becoming the future princess of a country I know nothing about. Billions of women on the planet would probably kill for this shot.

  “Second, there’s nothing silly about a prince or princess with my influence and wealth. Look at the power I hold over those you know and love. You have no hope of helping people as a press secretary for an attorney!”

  Ouch. This guy is such a fucking piece of work. “Some of us aren’t billionaires who can afford to pay for law school and get our degrees!” God, I hate this man! I hate more that he’s right. “Besides, if I was you, I’d be helping people, not tearing down their homes.”

  “Neither of us is exactly in a position to help anyone else.”

  You’re so full of shit. I sigh. I think he likes upsetting me. It’s going to be hard to keep my temper around such a person. “This situation is just … weird,” I whisper, forcing myself to calm down.

  “Not weird. We need each other. Every relationship is built around some kind of lie, right? Women who lie about their weight, men who lie about their income.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I know it’s true.”

  “You’ve led a pretty fucked up life t
hen.”

  He shifts behind me, and he’s quiet for a moment.

  “There are good people out there,” I continue. “People who are capable of loving someone else without condition, who don’t lie to each other. My parents are living proof. I grew up watching them work through things as a team and …”

  My voice trembles as I think about my disabled father, whose jobsite injury robbed my parents of the teamwork they once shared. He's unable to do anything for himself now, and my mother has become more of a caretaker than wife. The strain has started to show on her pretty features.

  I’m doing this for them. I keep telling myself that I’ll sacrifice whatever it takes. I wouldn’t be in the bed of a heartless billionaire playboy prince if I wasn’t willing to sell my conscience and body to help those I love.

  Something tells me he has no fucking clue what it means to care about anyone else.

  “Let me guess. They were abusive.”

  “What? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snap. “Don’t you ever say such a thing about my parents again! They’re incredible, caring and never, ever hurt anyone else in their lives!” It hits me that maybe he’s talking from experience, not speculating about my family. “Were you abused?”

  He’s quiet for a moment.

  “No one deserves to have that happen,” I say, my instincts wriggling in the silence. He’s got a shitty view of people and the world. There’s probably a reason for it.

  Except he’s such a dick, I don’t know if I care enough to find out what.

  “Good people,” he repeats, mulling on the words as if he’s never heard them before. “In my experience, there are no good people. Just those who pretend to be better than others.”

  “That’s really sad,” I murmur, not expecting to be so troubled by his words.

  “You consider yourself a good person?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “You had to lie to get up here and brought a gun into my hotel suite.”

  “To save ten thousand people’s homes!” I push myself up and shake his arm off, furious.

  “How did you get up here?” he asks.

  I clamp my mouth closed to keep from responding. I’m pissed at him and don’t want to answer. Not sure how he’ll take it, but it’s not like it matters now how I got up to his room.