Surprise Billionaire

by Maggie Twain

  She is indeed as sweet and innocent as I’d imagined, a girl who I’m sure has never been touched, never been pinned to a bed beneath the weight of a man, been entered and ravished vigorously until his seed spills inside of her.

  I want her first time to be special, magical, perfect, which means she must first come to love me, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that she does. Which is why I now ask her, “what is it you like to do?”

  She giggles and I can tell she’s thinking of some happy childhood memory. “I’ve always been happiest when I’m cooking.”

  “Ah,” the pieces are beginning to fall into place, “but you work as a waitress. Why not in the kitchen?”

  She squeezes my hand and I can immediately feel my cock straining against my pants. Truth is it’s pretty fucking painful. “Um, well,” she begins in the shy way I’m coming to expect, “there were no vacancies, only waitress positions, and Carrington’s was about the only place willing to hire an eighteen-year-old without qualifications.”

  “So why not get your qualifications?”

  She then tells me about her family situation, about her pops dying and leaving the family with a tonne of debt. She had to abandon her plans to go to culinary school in order to take the first job that came her way, just so she could help out her family, which by the way includes triplet sisters. The admiration I hold for my Angel grows by the minute. She doesn’t know it yet, but all her prayers will be answered.

  “So, you like to cook? It just so happens I know a place.”

  I want to show Angel that I’m not merely a man trying to set the world right, as Sissy puts it, but that I have a fun streak too. We return to Carrington’s where the dim lights, as well as the rain smashing against the windows, provides an electrifying ambiance.

  I still haven’t even seen my new kitchen and when we do enter, the breath escapes me. I open out my arms, “what will it be?”

  She rises on her toes and clasps her hands beneath her chin in the most adorable way imaginable. “Working here, I’ve had to cart around so many shrimp salads and they all look amazing. We just have to give it a try.”

  “Shrimp salad it is but first,” I slowly, gently, and very deliberately begin loosening her blouse, one button at a time, “if we’re doing this, then we’re doing it properly.”

  She’s under my control as I work, doesn’t move, and as I approach the final top button, I feel her sweet breath on my hand.

  I gently remove the garment, left arm, then right, and let out an almost silent hum in appreciation for how she looks in the white shirt beneath. I place the blouse over the back of a stool and grab two aprons from the hook before placing the strap of one around her neck. I feel the fullness of her breasts lightly touching my chest as I reach around from in front to tie the ends at the small of her back whilst giving her a gentle caress in that most sensitive of areas.

  I hear her swallow as I step away to unbutton my suit jacket and then it enshrouds Angel’s blouse when I place it on top. I put my head through the loop myself but turn around so she can tie the ends for me and even from the way she does this, I can sense how gentle she is. If I can get through this without fucking her on the countertop, it’ll be a miracle and besides, it’d ruin the shrimp.

  She hesitates before the large kitchen surrounding her.

  I take her hands and lightly squeeze. “Don’t be overwhelmed, my Angel, you can do it.” I know she’s nervous about disappointing me so I leave her to find her feet whilst I go to select a bottle of wine.

  My new rack is extensive, maybe thousands of bottles from all over the world, but I soon find a good white from the Lombardy region of Italy. I estimate it’s worth at around $200, not the most expensive in the world, but certainly perfect for tonight.

  When I return, the bacon’s frying, the shrimp is in the oven and she’s slicing the tomatoes. She glances shyly at me from the corner of her eye and gives a little wiggle of her ass. I pour two glasses of wine whilst feasting on the sight of her curves.

  “To the future,” we clink glasses and take our first sip together as a couple. It won’t be our last because Angel will be living the good life from now on. Her blue eyes are like oceans and they sparkle at the taste.

  I take the lettuce and begin slicing.

  She puckers her lips appreciatively at my skills. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  I give her a playful wink, “oh, just some guy I know.”

  She doesn’t yet know that I own my own chain of Italian restaurants, purchased after a similar dispute with a maître d’. I’d brought in my own people, which included a man by the name Valentino Rossi, who was once rated the top chef in all Emilia Romagna. He taught me a few tricks.

  I take a slice of tomato and slowly tempt it before her lips. They’re wide, thin and red as the fruit I now feed to her. I wait until she swallows until I move my lips close to hers and then she throws her arms around me and I’m pulling her hard into my chest as our mouths press hard together.

  I can faintly taste the wine but the overwhelming sensation is the smoothness of her face against my rough. I run my hands down her body so that I can feel her soft curves and stop at that tiny midriff and squeeze. I gently feel the air pushed out from her nose and the little sigh she makes into my mouth is delightful. I’m absolutely raging down below and can think of nothing but pinning her against the work surface and pounding her like a tenderizing mallet does a fine piece of sirloin. But I won’t. Not yet.

  Instead, the pan fizzes, the smell of bacon is incredible, and we break apart to painfully finish the job of cooking. She pants as she mixes the bacon into the salad and I go to remove the shrimp from the oven, the pleasant picnic image on my apron being distorted by the bulge of my own cucumber. A minute later we’re seated in my new restaurant; wine, rain, candles, some classical music playing low and the most beautiful girl in the world.

  Chapter Seven

  Angel

  It’s like I’m living in a fantasy world.

  One moment, I was being bullied and was in fear of losing my job and the next, I’m being swept off my feet by the most ruggedly perfect man I’ve ever come across in my life.

  The butterflies he gives me are intense, so intense that I worry I’ll make a mistake, do something that might displease him or worse, that I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.

  He’s so dominant that if he decided to take me at any point then I’d be completely under his spell. I’d spent so long willing for him to kiss me that it was beginning to drive me crazy, but he knows exactly what he’s doing, he made me wait and wait until I was screaming inside for him to do it, but when he finally did, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  I felt so small and helpless when he enveloped me in his arms, yet so protected at the same time. His body felt so hard through his shirt and I could feel the power pulsing from within his arms. He knows exactly how rough to be, his hands clasping around my belly, pulling me hard into his bulge, which I could distinctly feel through our aprons. I definitely felt a stirring down there, my body knows it’s being seduced and I want nothing more than to give myself to him, but I also know he’s going to frustrate me, to make me wait until I’m bursting to be spread out and taken.

  Back to the dinner, sigh, the shrimp is delicious and he now feeds me one directly from his fork. “You look like there’s something you really want to ask me.” He grabs my palms from across the table. “You may ask me anything you want.”

  Great, now he can read my mind too, and the question I have for Thor is the obvious. “How come there’s no lucky girl who’s yet managed to tie you down?” I mean, he’s obviously rich beyond my wildest dreams, confident, caring, and he looks like that.

  He pushes his empty plate aside. “Angel, I am in the uniquely privileged position to have experienced both extremes of the wealth divide. I grew up in the slums of one of the largest cities in the country and for a time, even lived on the streets. Let me tell you, I know
what it’s like to be poor and how people treat you when you’re down. Now that I’m, shall we say, in a considerably better position, only now are people willing to give me the time of day.” He has me captivated as he slowly turns his wine glass. “I’ll also tell you that I know what it’s like to be in the middle, to be normal, to struggle with the bills, to pay the rent, to purchase a car, fighting to get ahead in this life. Well, you might be surprised to learn that when you’re just like everybody else, people treat you only marginally better than when you’re sleeping amongst the rats.”

  I find my head nodding along to his every word. This man could have any woman he wants but it sounds to me like finding that one who doesn’t care about his money has been a problem.

  “I could never rest easy with a woman knowing she was only with me because of my wealth, that is why I do what I do, I carry those same principles into my business and so far, it has not failed me yet.” He stands and walks around the table, takes my hand and pulls me up. “You were exactly the same to me when you thought I was poor as you are right now, and that is why I will never let you go.”

  And at that, he scoops me up and then I’m in heaven, floating through the restaurant. He kicks the door open then another, carries me down the corridor, up the stairs while my arms clasp tightly around his neck, the staffroom’s right ahead and he presses against the door with his back, carries me across the room and lays me down on the couch.

  He backs away so he can discard his shirt and I’m quick to fumble with my own, my fingers shaking as they struggle with the buttons. We’re both panting, my head is swirling, he throws his shirt to the floor to reveal dense muscles that twitch as he unbuckles his belt. My eyes are instinctively drawn to that area, and the rather prominent shape straining from within his very well-fitted pants. Finally, I cast aside my shirt and his eyes eat up my breasts from within the confines of my bra. I almost can’t believe I just undressed myself in front of a man, this man, but it feels so right.

  He kicks off his shoes and tugs his pants free to reveal powerful thighs that soon he will use to drive himself into me. Never before have I felt so vulnerable as now, as he moves forward, looming down from above, while he fiddles with my heel straps and throws them over his shoulder. I’m apprehensive but in the most delightful way as Thor takes ahold of the turn-ups around my ankles and gives me a look as if to suggest I should be quick with the buckle. I fumble for a time bordering on being too long, but only because I can’t take my eyes off his chest, abdominals, shoulders, arms but somehow I manage and then my pants are being pulled down my legs.

  In the moment, I’m terribly self-conscious, does he like me, but his eyes absolutely feast on my legs, the curvature of my hips, my belly and a little spot still concealed beneath my underwear.

  Thor lowers himself down on top of me, placing most of his considerable weight on his forearms and I waste no time reaching around his back and pulling him in tight. His lips immediately find mine, our tongues clash in hot passion, the thick musculature of his back, my legs wrap around his ass, ankles hooking together as he powerfully humps me through two very thin layers of fabric. I feel his size rubbing, pressing against my most sensitive area, all kinds of nerve endings electrifying and my passage coating with a slick substance in preparation.

  He reaches around my back, unhooking my bra and I quickly release my arms for him to cast it to the floor. He seizes my breasts as the rain lashes against the windows and a moan escapes me when he covers my nipple with his mouth. I arch my back as his tongue swirls, push my hips harder against his manhood, willing him to enter me even though I know we’re still encumbered by too much fabric. He moves his kisses down my body and stops only when he reaches my underwear, tucking his thumbs inside the elastic and gently sliding it down the length of my legs. The pupils within his orange eyes enlarge and he can’t resist bringing his mouth over my pearl, swirling his tongue and gently sucking. I feel a finger enter inside of me before slowly pulling out and searching back inside. It hurts but in the most delicious way and besides, I think I’m in deep need of gently breaking in.

  I again hook my legs around his back and draw him closer, signaling what I’m willing for him to do to me, he’s torturing me but I think he’s enjoying making me burst.

  “I’m going to make you mine forever,” he hisses as he reaches back to work his underwear from his buttocks and down his thighs, finally releasing that swollen organ I’ve been dying to see, touch, taste, have inside of me.

  He moves onto his knees as my gaze fixes upon his manhood and I intake an involuntary sharp breath of air as the grin slowly curls on his lips. He gently milks his considerable length, spreading what small amount of substance is already discharging from the tip to add some much needed lubrication. I’m already soaking down below, my own juices mixing with his saliva, and I hope I’m now ready to receive him, to become his, forever.

  “Please, make me yours,” I say as I feel my heart pounding so hard from within my chest.

  He positions himself at my entrance, gently parts my lips and slowly sinks inside. He stops when my nails dig into his forearms, his width stretching me further than what’s comfortable, but after a second, my body seems to adjust and the deep throbbing I feel is my body screaming that it wants more, to be filled completely.

  For such a big man, he’s very gentle and takes his time, only pushing as far as is comfortable for me. Several times he has to stop when my fingers dig into his biceps and then loosen as a signal to enter me further. He repositions onto his elbows so he’s at a better angle to fully impale me and as he does he smothers my neck with his lips. I wrap my arms around his back and finally, he drives all the way forward, right up to the hilt. I let out a silent moan as my body adjusts to the feeling of being full, my walls clenching obscenely tight around his girth. Our eyes connect and for a moment, his gaze appears to bug out from being so tightly squeezed, almost like we’re both adjusting to the feeling.

  He slowly slides out and then pushes back inside, his hands covering my breasts, and he only needs about four or five strokes before I’m arching my back and clamming up with my climax, my passage pulsing around his manhood and then I’m sweating hot and cold both, my flesh tingling, breathing hard into his ear while I shake and shiver beneath him. He takes that as his signal to go and then he’s increasing his speed, stroke length, as well as power, and he’s smashing into me, panting and groaning, his hand clasping a fistful of hair, pounding, and then I’m climaxing for the second time and he grunts, seizes up, I feel the heat rush through his flesh as his entire body almost feels like it’s going limp and rigid at the same time and then he’s spilling his seed inside of me, long, hot, sticky ropes until finally, they stop and his body sags on top of mine.

  “I’m inside you now forever,” he sighs into my ear, “my sweet Angel.”

  We fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Eight

  Thor

  My entire body seizes and clenches, forcing me to rouse from my sleep. I open my eyes and there’s an angel with her mouth around my head, working my length energetically with her little hands just as I explode into her mouth.

  “Fu…..” my hair’s damp and I brush my hands through it as she works every last drop of my seed out from my balls.

  I must be one heck of a deep sleeper but it’s sure a nice way to wake up.

  “I think I’m going to enjoy knowing you,” I pant and gesture for her to join me back up the couch. She does, licking her lips. We’re both still fully naked from last night and I envelop her nakedness in my arms. “Today, we will have some fun but later on, I have a surprise for you.”

  Her face brightens in the most adorable way. “Oh, what is it?”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s a surprise.”

  “No, please tell me,” she grabs ahold of my arm and gives it a shake, “I hate surprises.”

  I laugh, she amuses me without even having to try and I think I will enjoy keeping it from her for a whil
e, even after that good morning she just gave me.

  We use the staff facilities, showering together, and of course, I take the opportunity to pin her front-facing against the wall so that I can drive deep into her pussy from behind, smashing her cheeks hard while the hot water cascades down upon us. I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of Angel.

  Luckily, she has a change of clothes in her locker, and I’m fine in the simple jeans and t-shirt I always carry around in my bag. When she arrives back from the changing room wearing her civvies, cut-off denim shorts and a red tube top, I’m even more awestruck by her beauty than ever.

  I whistle, “looks like we’ll have to think about changing the uniform at this place.”

  She gives me a shy little twirl, my eyes not once leaving her ass. “Ready when you are, mister.”

  I put my arm around her waist as we walk down the stairs and emerge in the restaurant. There are people working down there, rearranging tables, hanging new curtains, placing up new portraits, painting the walls and there’s one of my managers conducting an induction with what looks like a group of new staff members. Of course, my sister’s there with a cell clamped against her ear as she directs traffic. She sees me immediately, does not miss the hot girl I’m with, and ends the call.

  Angel’s fingers pulse around my side and that she looks up at me with alarm does not escape my attention.

  “Sissy,” I say as she approaches, “you weren’t instructed to begin here. At least not yet.”

  She flaps a dismissive hand, not once taking her eyes off Angel. “Hello, I’m Thor’s sister, Mellisa,” she looks uncomfortable and then I see why.

  Her friend Kristina’s lurking just behind her, she has hippie braids now and is actually holding what has to be a crystal. She throws it to the tiles and runs out the restaurant.

  “Oh, gosh,” Angel sighs, “what happened?”