Curves for the Billionaire

by Alexis Moore

  She felt her face flame as he spread her thighs and drank in the sight of her titan curls. Cool air hit her heated flesh and she realized just how wet she must be. He raised his head and caught her gaze. “Just beautiful.”

  Then he dipped his head, parted her nether lips and caressed her softly with his tongue.

  “Ohhh!” Samantha raised her hips and moved them in time with the gently circling motion. She wasn’t a complete novice. She owned a vibrator which she had last used months ago when she’d had a day off from the clinic and needed to unwind. But being here with Zachary, whose image she’d tried to bring to mind each time she masturbated, was mind blowing. He seemed to know exactly where to touch, how much pressure to apply and for how long. She grabbed a handful of his hair and tried to press him harder against her, or pull him away—she didn’t know what she wanted him to do more—but he wrapped his strong arms around her hips and held her firmly.

  She had slid a finger inside her own warmth before, imagining it was Zachary’s and failing miserably. His finger was much longer and more satisfying, she realized, as he slid the middle digit of his right hand deep inside her and nibbled gently on her swollen bud.

  “Aah, ahh…too much!”

  She grabbed one of the many pillows and bit down on the end of it to keep from screaming as pleasure so intense it was painful grew and grew. She would die if he continued. She would shoot him if he dared stop. She would…. The world retreated and she hovered for a moment on the pinnacle of pleasure before she let go and plunged into the sweet, soft blackness that beckoned her.

  Weakly she clamped Zachary’s head between her thighs to still his movement, but though he kept his finger still, his tongue continued circling the hood of her clitoris, prolonging her orgasm and making it last for longer than any had before.

  “I wanted us to come together,” she protested when he finally moved up until their faces were level.

  “I wanted to see what you looked like when you came for me.” He kissed the tip of her nose and reminded her, “And I’m waiting for the bite you promised me.”

  “If you show me how.”

  “You haven’t gone down on a man before?” he asked incredulously, but the light in his eyes told her that he wasn’t exactly displeased.

  Samantha shook her head. Many of her friends in secondary school had thought nothing of giving boys of their age blowjobs, but it had seemed too intimate an act to perform on a classmate. Later at university it seemed that most dates expected it as part of the goodnight kiss routine even if intercourse didn’t take place. Samantha had given up dating after the surprisingly angry reactions when she’d categorically refused to oblige the young men who had mostly been happy to split the bill for dinner, but had somehow still felt that she’d owed them something.

  “So, you’re virgin all over.” She bristled at the smug satisfaction in Zachary’s voice, but before she could give him a scathing response, he traced her mouth with a finger and then slipped it between her lips—the same one that had been inside her she recognized by the taste. “It will be my pleasure to teach you. Come.”

  He rolled off the bed and stood beside it, his erection jutting proudly out of its nest of black curls.

  “Sit on the end of the bed this time,” he instructed.

  Did that mean that she would have to kneel in front of him the next?

  The thought bemused her.

  “Wet your lips for me, sweetheart.” Zachary took his hard length in hand and rubbed the moist tip against her lips, mixing his pre-ejaculate with her saliva to further moisten them. “Now take the tip inside you.”

  Samantha wrapped her hand around the thick shaft and covered the beautifully bulbous head with her lips. Rolling her tongue over it, she was surprised at its ultra smooth texture and how much it filled her mouth. He was bigger than she’d realized and curved slightly to the left. She’d read enough steamy romances to know what to do, she decided, and cupped his tight scrotal sacs with her free hand and took him deeper into her mouth, keeping her hand on the base of the shaft to gauge how far she could take him.

  “Easy, my love…easy,” Zachary cautioned, but placed his hands on his hips, letting her have full control.

  After a couple of tries Samantha got it right and started to slowly move her head up and down his shaft rhythmically.

  “Yes, yes!” Zachary brushed her hair back and tilted her face slightly upwards. His green eyes glittered down into hers as he ground out, “Look up at me while I fill your beautiful mouth, sweetheart. I want to see your lips stretched around me.”

  He widened his stand and started to thrust his hips at her, groaning and tightening his fingers in her hair, but careful not to push past the resistance of her hand. When she put her other hand on his hip and eased him out of her mouth, he didn’t resist, though he bared his teeth in a grimace at the interruption of his pleasure.

  Heady with her success, she ran her tongue up and down the side of his erection twice and then pulled one of his loaded balls into her mouth.

  “Gently, my sweet.” He shuddered in reaction and Samantha loved the feeling of having him at her mercy. She swirled her tongue gently around his left ball, sucking on it like it was a sugared sweet before moving on to its twin, Zachary’s loud groans filling her with a heady sense of satisfaction.

  “I need to be inside you now, honey.” His voice was a deep, dark growl of need. Hooking his elbows under her arms, he lifted her further up onto the bed.

  Samantha’s heart hammered in her chest for a moment. Getting up close and personal with his erection had given her more to fear, not less. His finger had been a snug fit—his shaft was much larger.

  “I don’t know how much this is going to hurt,” he apologized in advance, hooking her legs up over his hips. “But it’s an experience that we’ll go through only once. I want us both to enjoy it.”

  “I saved myself for you, Zac.” The words were something a schoolgirl would probably say and she felt a little foolish saying them, but they conveyed what was in her heart and this was the time for total honesty between them.

  “You have no idea how honoured I feel.” His voice was gruff with emotion and his eyes had softened at her words.

  Foolish or not, she was glad she’d said the words—he’d taken them exactly as she’d hoped he would.

  Contrary to the urgency she’d sensed, Zachary took his time, running his hand up her inner thighs and stroking the soft flesh there before moving higher and slipping a finger back inside her as he kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.

  She tensed when he eased his finger out, but he simply held the hard length of his erection in his hand and rubbed the tip repeatedly against her swollen nub and outer labia, maddening her until she was thrusting her hips upwards trying to impale herself on him. Finally he teased her with a few shallow thrusts—just getting the very tip inside her and out again. She dug her fingertips into the tense muscles of his shoulders and silently demanded more. He slid a little deeper and they both stilled as an obstruction blocked further entry.

  Samantha hadn’t truly believed that her hymen was still intact. She hadn’t liked riding because the school’s riding master had always made a point of ensuring that she was given an older, sturdier horse from the stables which would usually be left miles behind the other horses even in a sedate gallop, but she had ridden often enough to have lost her hymen she’d always thought.

  Zachary withdrew again and gave another few shallow thrusts. And then when she was least expecting it, he surged forward with a long, slow, purposeful lunge and buried himself to the hilt inside her.

  Holy shit!

  Samantha might have yelped if his mouth wasn’t covering hers. She had been expecting some discomfort, but the pain was as sharp as being pierced by a large, blunt needle.

  “It’s okay,” Zachary whispered, cupping her head and making her hold his gaze as he held still inside her.

  But already the pain was fading to a dull, bearable
ache. She relaxed around him and he slowly withdrew half his length and then slid back inside her, eliciting a spark of pleasurable sensation. Watching her eyes go soft in reaction, Zachary deepened his next stroke, still holding her head securely and locking gazes with her.

  “Are you okay now?”

  She nodded mutely, not sure that she would be able to get words past her throat. The pain had almost completely receded now and her body had relaxed and further softened around him. Seeming reassured, he lowered his head to encircle and suckle the hard points of her breasts.

  “You’re so sweet and tight. So tight and…mine.” He slowly built the tempo of his driving hips and she found her hips instinctively following the movement. “Mine only!”

  Finding his small, flat nipples, she tweaked them between her fingers

  “Yes, yes,” he groaned in encouragement and thrust deeper, faster and harder, sparking a more urgent reaction inside her so that she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips as once again she felt the moment of release approach. Zachary seemed intent on going on for longer, but as soon as she started to convulse around him his pace quickened. He held her tighter as tremors shook his body. “Yes, come for me, baby. Come…oh fuck!”

  Samantha felt the rush of his seed and held him even tighter as he ground his hips against hers as if trying to shoot it as deep as possible inside her. She soared on a sea of bliss for a moment or two, and then gradually became aware of her surroundings again.

  Masturbation had been great, but sharing an orgasm with Zachary was simply out of this world.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised and slipped off the bed.

  Realizing that she was sprawled naked on top of the covers, Samantha tried to crawl under them and found that her whole centre ached—not only her vagina, inside and out, but her inner thighs and muscles that she’d probably never used before.

  Zachary returned with a washcloth in his hand.

  Samantha instinctively held on to the covers when he tried to fold them back.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.

  “Aren’t you sore?”

  “A little,” she reluctantly admitted.

  “Then let me tend to you.”

  “I can do it myself,” she told him, reaching for the damp cloth.

  “No, let me do it,” he insisted firmly.

  Samantha knew he meant well, but she didn’t think she could bear to have him touch her just yet.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he assured her as if sensing her worry. “I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  Samantha loosened her death grip on the covers and let him pull them back.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at her encouragingly as he bent her legs at the knees and spread them, using his free hand.

  “God, baby, look at you.”

  “What?” She had forgotten to check to see if she was bleeding.

  “You’re so swollen.” His eyes met hers. She couldn’t read the expression in them. There was something primitive in them—almost as if he wanted to beat his chest in triumph—and yet there tenderness there too. “There’s a little blood, but not as much as I’d feared there would be.”

  She tensed as she felt the cool damp cloth against her tender flesh, but he simply pressed it against her, letting its coolness soothe the burning sensation. It felt heavenly and with a sigh Samantha gave herself up to his administrations.

  “Better?” he asked finally.

  “Thank you.”

  He got off the bed, went to the bathroom and quickly returned.

  “We were good together,” he told her as he slipped his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “Was it good for you too?” She hadn’t been sure if their lovemaking had felt as wonderful to him with his greater experience.

  “It was amazing,” he confirmed kissing her softly. “Worth the torture of the last nine years.”

  “If it was torture, why didn’t you ever try to kiss me again?” she demanded.

  “Your friendship was too important to me. I didn’t want to lose it if the relationship soured.”

  A sudden, huge yawn caught Samantha by surprise.

  “Where did that come from?” she asked before another one almost split her face in two. She laughed sheepishly, “Suddenly I’m exhausted!”

  “That happens,” Zachary explained. He tucked her even closer and said, “Go to sleep. I’m right here.”

  ***

  Chapter Five

  Samantha awoke still cocooned in Zachary’s arms hours later. In daydreams she had imagined how wonderful it would feel. In reality it was just as divine.

  “It’s about time, sleepyhead.” Zachary kissed her temple and she rubbed her face against his chest. “You slept for almost six hours.”

  “Really?” She hadn’t been able to sleep properly since her father’s phone call to tell her of his cancer. His death, the stress of arranging his funeral and the bombshell of his will had added to her sleeplessness.

  “I’m going to grab a shower.” Zachary nibbled her left earlobe. “But I’ve arranged a bath for you.”

  “Arranged a bath?” Samantha turned and looked at him fully. “Don’t I just turn on the water, pour in the bath salts and get in when it’s full?”

  “You do nothing. Two beautiful young women will run the bath and then wash your hair and bathe you. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

  Beyond decadent! But Samantha was feeling just pleasantly exhausted enough to enjoy the experience.

  “And where will you be when this is happening?” she asked.

  Is he one of those men who fantasized about women making love to each other?

  “I’ll be downstairs reading The Financial Times…but only because you’re too sore for what I’d planned after the bath.”

  Samantha felt her face warm as she remembered the tender way he had helped soothe that soreness earlier. The discomfort was almost gone, but she was planning a little surprise performance for him—it would be expedient if he was out of the room while she got dressed.

  “Would you like something to eat first?” Zachary queried as she reached over and plucked a ripe date from the appetizingly-displayed selection of fruit.

  “No, thank you. I’ll have some fruit now and save my appetite for dinner.” She bit into the fruit, closed her eyes to fully savour its taste and gave a soft purr of delight.

  She opened them again to find Zachary’s arrested gaze on her.

  “What’s the matter?” She smiled uncertainly, wondering if she’d done something wrong.

  “You’re just too sexy for your own good…and mine.” Zachary cupped the back of her head and gave her a long, lingering kiss before lifting his head away with reluctance visible in every muscle. “Right, time for a cold shower.”

  With that he threw his side of the covers back and revealed an erection that looked painfully hard. Samantha put her hand over her mouth to smother her gasp of shock. She had been pressed against it and not recognized it for what it was.

  Zachary smiled wryly at his own predicament, got off the bed and walked unashamedly naked towards the walk-in shower, the firm buttocks she’d held on to tightly as he’d buried himself deeply inside her, flexing rhythmically with each stride.

  He was a magnificent specimen of manhood.

  And he was hers…well, for possibly three glorious years. Samantha turned over, buried her face into the pillow where his head had just rested and hugged the thought.

  ***

  Samantha felt a little self conscious as she watched the two slender young Arab women who had appeared soundlessly in the room just after Zachary had dressed and left the room, prepare the bath and then stand waiting demurely for her to slip into the scented water.

  She had thought that things couldn’t become more decadent than they had already been—the bath add another layer of pure indulgence. She felt like a princess in a fairytale as they washed her hair, massaging her scalp gently but firmly, scrubb
ed her body with a coarse wonderfully-aromatic mixture and then polished it with a similar concoction ground to a finer consistency.

  Once out of the bath, she was treated like a queen. Soft towels were used to blot the moisture from her skin before sweet-smelling oil was massaged into it. Her hair which had been wrapped in a towel after being washed was then towel dried, lightly oiled and brushed until it shone like burnished copper.

  She thanked her bathers and dismissed them once they had helped her into a white halter dress, the style of which Fiona had shamelessly borrowed from Marilyn Monroe’s famous outfit in The Seven Year Itch.

  The dress left her newly-exfoliated arms and back exposed, nipped in closely at the waist and flared softly to just below her knees. She slipped her feet into white high-heeled sandals and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. Her hair shone like a new penny and her skin literally glowed, not just from the pampering she’d received but, she suspected, from being married to Zachary, making love with him and feeling incredibly happy.

  She shouldn’t be this happy, she thought guiltily, so soon after her father’s death. Tears came to her eyes and she hurriedly dashed them away. She would take time out to grieve properly, she promised herself, when the pain was less raw. Strangely she felt that her father was smiling down at her in approval. He had loved and admired Zachary, and had seemed almost as disappointed as she when Zachary had turned up at her eighteenth birthday party with his girlfriend in tow. Once she had convinced him that she and Zachary were just friends, he had accepted the fact and treated Zachary pretty much like the son he’d never had. He would have wanted her to be every bit as happy as she felt.

  ***

  Zachary was sitting on the sprawling sofa, engrossed in the newspaper, a snifter with a generous shot of cognac cradled in one hand.

  He looked up as he sensed her approach and for a moment he just stared at her. Samantha revelled in his look of blatant appreciation, belatedly wishing that she hadn’t been so hasty in dismissing the young women. A strategically-placed fan set on high would have added the final touch to the fantasy. But Zachary didn’t seem to mind that the dress wasn’t blowing up around her ears and revealing the tiny thong which was the only thing she wore under the dress.