Always My Babygirl: A Billionaire Romance

by Jane Henry

  But this… this blatant admiration is something I haven’t had. Not now. Not ever, even with the women I was most serious with in the past.

  I shove that thought immediately out of my mind. I won’t think of that. Not now. I’m here with Miranda, who’s admiring my gym work with nothing short of worship in her eyes.

  I prowl over to her, and her words die on her lips. I want to kiss those pretty pink lips and run my fingers through that delicate blonde hair, and kiss my way down her body until her toes curl.

  “Hello, daddy,” she murmurs, sinking deeper into the pillows. I sit beside her on the bed and frame her face with my hands.

  “Look at you,” I say, shaking my head. “All travel worn and tired you still look like an angel.”

  She smiles at me, and her eyes flutter closed as I lower my mouth to kiss her. She tastes like scotch and sunshine, golden and warm and comforting, and my cock stirs with the memory of what she did on the plane.

  I pull back and look at her.

  “I’ve paid my fee in full, Miss Montague.”

  She bites her lip and goes a bit shy. “You have, sir.”

  I want her. I want to feel her hot, tight virgin cunt wrapped round my cock. I want my first time with her to be something she never, ever forgets.

  I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Are you ready, baby?”

  She nods. I place my hand on her arm, my thumb grazing her wrist. I can feel the rapid beating of her pulse.

  “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

  “How can you do that?” she whispers back. “The first time always hurts.”

  “Let me try. It might hurt for a short bit… but then I’ll make it better.”

  She closes her eyes and nods, as if waiting for the executioner’s axe to fall.

  I kiss her cheek, her chin, her shoulder, and she sighs. Soft, fluttering kisses like butterfly wings, but just being this close to her, my dick’s already hard and raring to go.

  Down, boy.

  I have to take it easy. I like to fuck hard and on my terms, but with Miranda, we’ll need to ease into that. I know she likes things kinky, though. I’ve seen how she reacts. I’ll use that to my advantage, since I know half of what it means to make love to a woman is to reach her mind. Speak to the mind, and the body will follow.

  I lean in and whisper in her ear, as I draw gentle caresses across her breasts. “Daddy likes what daddy sees.” I nibble her earlobe, waiting for the arch in her back before I reach for her nipple and pinch. She gasps, then moans, as I lick the place I nibbled.

  I lean down and grasp one of her nipples between my teeth, gently lapping until her hips jerk with want, then I pull her nipple fully in my mouth and suckle until she’s panting. I release first one nipple, then leave and suckle the next.

  “Daddy,” she breathes. “Oh, God.”

  “Hands above your head,” I whisper in her ear. “And if you move them or try to stop me, I’ll whip you.”

  She gasps. “Whip?”

  I nod soberly. “I’ll tie you to these posts and take my belt to your ass.” I run my finger along the top of her thigh. “Stripe it pink for your disobedience.”

  She gives a little squeak. “That sounds… both scary and hot.”

  I nod. “It is. So will you be daddy’s good little girl, or not?”

  “Yes, daddy. Of course, daddy.”

  I bend down and nibble her earlobe before I leave it again. “Or will daddy have to punish you?”

  She shakes her head. “No, daddy.”

  “Then do what daddy tells you, baby.”

  Obediently, she raises her hands above her head, her eyes wide with curiosity.

  “I want your first time to be good, baby,” I say. “So I want you good and wet and damn near begging for it when it’s time.”

  She nods again. “Pretty much already there.”

  I smile at her. “Good girl.”

  I reach for my belt and unbuckle it, watching to make sure she obeys, half hoping she doesn’t. Her gaze grows wide as I slide the belt through the loops. “You are a curious little thing, aren’t you?”

  She nods and bites her lip. “Mhm.” I secure her wrists and I’m just about to start kissing my way to turning her on when a wooden floorboard creaks outside the door.

  “Miranda? Miranda?”

  She gasps. “Oh my God. That’s my mother!”

  I hold my finger up to my lips. “You stay right there. I’ve got this.”

  I tug my t-shirt back on and sneak out of the room. Her mom is in the kitchen, her hand on the doorknob. She’s just about to turn it and let herself out. “Wait! Mrs. Montague.”

  She turns back to me, looking around in confusion. Her brows knit together when she sees me standing there.

  “Who are you?”

  “Gabriel. We met earlier. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

  She scowls at me. “Where’s my daughter?”

  Tied to a bedpost, waiting to hand over her V-card.

  “She’s asleep. It’s been a long day. Anything I can help you with?”

  She nods. “I just came down for a glass of water.”

  “Then why don’t you step away from the door and come this way?” I lead her over to the refrigerator, fetch her a glass of water, and help her back to the stairs. “Now, no more coming out to the kitchen, please. We don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”

  She nods. “Okay.” She pads back upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door shut. I blow out a breath. If she had actually stepped foot outside, who knows what could’ve happened. She needs more help than she’s getting.

  When I come back in the room, Miranda eyes me curiously. “You were very gentle with her. Everything okay?”

  “She just wanted some water.” We’ll talk about the rest in the morning.

  Her mind will be elsewhere, and I need to bring her back to the present.

  “I see you’ve been daddy’s good little girl?”

  Her eyes shine at me, and she nods. “Kinda hard to do anything naughty when you’re strapped to a bedpost.”

  “Oh, honey. It’s very, very easy to do something naughty in this position.”

  She grins at me as I make my way over to her. I kiss her softly, and our tongues touch, an instant frisson of awareness passing between us. I cup one breast while I suckle the other, until she’s keening with pleasure and panting for more. I run my tongue down her thighs to her pussy, and kiss her right there as her hips rise to meet me.

  I swallow hard. I remember the taste of her on the plane. I want more.

  I tease her with the very tip of my tongue, sliding down her seam, and she moans in unadulterated pleasure. Her eyes go half-lidded as I pull away, kissing down the length of her thighs. I massage under her knees and raise them so her feet are propped up on the bed.

  “Spread your knees, baby. Let daddy have a look.”

  She watches me in wide-eyed fascination as she moves to obey. She bites her lip, watching me.

  “Good girl,” I whisper, tracing the back of my hand on her inner thing. I want her so ready she begs for me. I run my hand over and over her soft, warm thighs, gently stroke her pussy, then go back to her thighs, then return to her breasts, licking and suckling, biting and nipping.

  “Oh God,” she groans. “Yessss.”

  I glide my hands under her ass and squeeze her perfect globes.

  “Ooohh,” she says in surprise. “I can still feel where you spanked me, daddy.”

  I give her another squeeze. “Good girl. We’ll keep you good and primed, then. Did you like your spanking?”

  She nods, biting her lip. “I did. I didn’t know something that hurt could be so good.”

  “So you’re a kink virgin, too, I take it?”

  She nods. “Uh. Yeah.”

  “So you’ve never played with wax, plugs, or canes?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes wide.

  “Daddy’s gonna have fun with this.”


  “The night is still young.”

  Her words almost take me out of the moment.

  We aren’t over after tonight. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure of that. But I won’t startle her. I need to keep her with me.

  “That’s right, baby.” I reach for my pants and unfasten them. My thick cock bobs, my balls ache. I’m so eager to fuck her I can hardly keep myself contained. I swallow hard. I remove the rest of my clothes and fold them neatly beside us.

  I glide the head of my cock to her entrance and stroke myself through her wet folds. She moans but trembles. Excited, but nervous.

  I reach for her hand. “You’ve got this. Trust me, baby. I’ll make it good.”

  I stroke my fingers through her folds and tease her clit. She moans with pleasure and moves with my hand, her hips rocking for friction. I shake my head. “Not yet, baby.”

  I position myself above her, gently lowering my weight to hers. I unfasten the belt that ties her to the post, freeing her, and her hands go around my neck, anchoring herself to me. I hold her, my arms encircling her, just as I guide my cock to her tight, hot pussy.

  She gasps when I enter her, her body tightens beneath me.

  “Easy, baby. Relax,” I whisper in her ear. “Daddy’s got you.”

  She closes her eyes and relaxes her body with a little grin. “All those yoga classes helped…”

  I smile. “They did, baby.” My cock pulses in her, and I’m dying to thrust harder. Deeper. I need to ease her into this, though.

  I move my hips, building a rhythm until she moans with pleasure.

  “Yes,” she whispers. “God, yes.”

  I rock in and out, as gently as I can. The walls of her pussy clench, and she’s panting.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Oh, God,” she whispers. “I’ve never been better. Please, daddy. Don’t stop.”

  Chapter Ten

  Miranda

  I get wetter and warmer and more wanting with every thrust he offers me. I don’t know if it’s my age or all the working out, but there’s no pain, no tearing, nothing like what I’d imagined. Just the feel of him inside me, stretching me, filling me.

  He moves slowly, careful to not cause me pain. He’s holding back and I need more. Behind his calculated movements, I sense this man has power, a wildness that will take me to new heights if he would only just unleash it. He’s a tiger in a cage, wanting to let loose but fearing he’ll hurt me in his attack.

  I want the tiger.

  I hold his gaze, sending him assurance I’m fine. I’m more than fine. But I need more. “I’m ready. I want you.”

  Harder, faster, deeper, daddy.

  A wicked grin envelopes his face. “I think you are.”

  Holding my gaze, he rocks his hips, slowly pressing further into me. A moan falls from my lips, my head lulling back as he fills me. I raise my legs higher to let him deeper inside of me. It feels so fucking good.

  So this is what all the fuss is about. This incredible connection, this enchanting pleasure, this is what makes the world go round. I’ve been missing out.

  He leans down, kissing my lips, my cheek, making his way to the curve of my earlobe. He takes it in his teeth, nipping. “Are you ready for all of me, baby?”

  “Yes, daddy.”

  And he enters me fully. There’s pain, but the pain melts away to sweet pleasure, giving me everything I’ve been missing all these years, not even knowing how badly I needed this in my life. My fingernails dig into his flesh, my eyes opening wide. A cry catches in my throat and my legs tighten around his torso like a vise.

  We rock our bodies together as one. A slow, building burn in my core ignites, my pussy clenching down on his cock, tighter and tighter until—Oh, daddy!

  My body curves around him. My hands hold onto him. I come with a hard, shuddering burst of energy. He gives a few more thrusts before giving a low moan. “Babygirl. What you do to me.”

  “What you did.” I smile in the wake of the aftermath of my orgasm, my shaking limbs collapsing into the bed. His kisses my forehead, curling around my back and we lay there. Like two spoons.

  To be so close to someone afterward, to feel their warm skin against your own. This is almost as good as the sex. My eyes feel heavy and I close them, drifting off, the smile still on my face.

  I wake the next day to the sun rising outside our window and his hands on my body. Stroking my curves, trailing a line of kisses down my back. I smile, humming with delight, and roll onto my back. His fingers move to my side.

  To my scar. My eyes open. My muscles, so relaxed just a moment before, tense.

  “It’s beautiful, you know. This silver crescent moon.” His finger traces the semicircle. “Will you tell me about it, now?”

  White heat spreads over my face. “I… it makes me… self-conscious.”

  “It’s a part of your story. And I want to know about all of you. Even the parts you hide from the world. You can show them to me.” His gaze reassures me.

  Everything in me tells me to keep this light, to keep things surface level only. But what I feel when I look in his eyes tells me to grip onto this connection, this euphoria.

  To hold tight… onto him.

  And so, I share my story. “We grew up on the coast. From birth I was a water baby. My dad taught me to surf. There wasn’t a single weekend we didn’t go out together.”

  That’s the sweet part of the story. The easy part to tell.

  The next piece, this part makes my throat feel tight, my eyes sting. “The morning of my high school graduation we decided to celebrate with an early surf. We went out, side by side, each of us laying on our board, paddling out with our arms. He was teasing me about a guy I had a crush on. One that we both knew was going to ask me out soon. We were laughing… just enjoying the day…”

  He senses my unease. “It’s alright.” He strokes my arm, smooths his hand over my hair. “You’re safe now. With me.”

  His touch, his soft words, offer me what I need to continue. “I felt this bump. Against my board. At first, I was confused, thinking I’d hit a rock, all the while knowing we’d surfed the same spot a hundred times and there were no rocks. Then, I heard my dad scream my name.”

  Miranda! Watch out! His voice calls out in my mind, haunting me.

  I brush tears from my eyes. Hoping they go unnoticed, I dive back into my story. “The shark took a bite from my board. Lucky for me, it was a smaller shark and his bottom row of teeth sunk into the board. I only got scraped by the top half. But it was enough to tear my side.”

  I think of the blood. Pools and pools of it, turning the water red all around us. “I felt no pain—later they told me I was in shock. The bite was almost harmless, in the end, only requiring plastic surgery to put me back together. There was no internal damage.”

  “How did you get away?”

  There’s a sick, quiet beat of silence in the air. I make my confession. “My father saved me.” My words die. A heavy silence falling over us. My father may have saved me that day, but he lost his life in the process. The scar is a memory of the day I lost my dad, and it pains me to think of it.

  And somehow, he knows. Gabriel pieces the rest of the story together himself. “I see.”

  This man that hardly knows me, knows not to ask any more questions. Just to hold me tight. To curve his body over mine, until he’s a protective shell, kissing me. I close my eyes, wanting to feel the full depth of the kiss.

  Maybe that’s why providing Lexi with the perfect wedding is so damn important to me, I have to stand in where he should have been. Somehow compensate for the fact that I’m here, and he’s not.

  Gabriel keeps kissing me and, in his embrace, I find healing.

  I think of the events after that day, and for once, it's not in pain, only in a reflection. I moved to Nevada, wanting to never be surrounded by water again. I was penniless, scared, and alone. But I owed it to my dad to do something with my life. I enrolled in college, and with the help of a friend, I
started Sugar Daddies as a way to pay for my classes.

  I hid my scar, traumatized by the pain it caused me. Hell, my attempts to hide that silver crescent moon may even be the reason I didn’t have sex yet. That, coupled with the fact that I hadn’t yet met him.

  Gabriel Lord. The man who’s too good to be true, yet he’s becoming as real to me as my own flesh and blood.

  The kiss grows more urgent. Our mouths communicate what our bodies desire. I need to feel him inside me. I need the comfort of the closeness only he can offer me right now. I slip my legs apart and while our mouths are still joined, he enters me.

  It’s painful at first; I’m sore from the night before. It only takes my hand on his shoulder for him to read me. He slows down, easing into me. Sweetly and softly, then with a building energy that has all the pain in my past washing away from me like water rushing from the shore at high tide.

  He grabs my hips, twisting me over on top of him as he lies on his back. He’s even deeper inside me this way and I let out a whimper of delight.

  His smile is intoxicating. “Dance for me, baby.”

  And somehow, intuitively, I know exactly what to do. Not from research, or hearing the girls talk shop, or from the romance novels my sister emails to my kindle.

  It’s intuitive.

  He tells me to dance, and I do. Slowly, I roll my hips. Moving forward further into him, then pulling back. He grabs my hips, holding me, but not guiding me. He lets me set my own rhythm. I press my hands into his chest. Lift my ass, rising up on his cock until his eyes shut and he moans, then I slide back down. Hit him with another roll of my hips.

  “My God, girl. Where’d you learn to ride like that?”

  “I just know.”

  I lean back, my breasts pressing forward with their peaked nipples. He takes the opportunity to caress them, taking each bud between his finger and pinching, teasing. The trembling sensation travels deep into my core and it makes me move faster, harder. The sound of our bodies connecting, hot, slick, and eager, fills the room.