by Alexis Angel
“Carter! Carter! Carter, baby!” I yell, my pelvis thrusting forward quickly, my clit desperate for the friction.
Abruptly, he slams into me, stilling as his pelvis presses against my clit, causing me to moan uncontrollably. Lost to the release, I don’t hear or feel anything but my own pleasure, which is off the charts. I’m just beginning to regain my thinking when I feel his cock twitch and spasm inside of me. The warm cream oozing from his cock, deep in my pussy.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he groans in that weak tone I love to hear so much.
Together, we lie, holding each other tightly as our bodies pant in unison. After a marathon love making session, we’re both spent, drenched in sweat as his semen begins to slide out of me. Carter pulls out of me, flipping onto his back beside me as the warm, thick gel like cream slides down my thigh.
Reaching his hand between my legs, he pushes the semen back inside me with his fingers, and I grab his hand and bring it to my mouth, licking the cream from his fingertips as his eyelids grow heavy, his blue eyes clouding with lust.
Both of our addictions flare as we gaze at each other, knowing we won’t be leaving the bed for a really long time, if ever. There’s nothing else I need in this world and from the looks of things, Carter doesn’t need more than me.
We are enough for each other, more than enough actually. We fulfill every dream and fantasy, and that gives us everything we could possibly desire. He’s the man of my dreams, and he’s my man, what could be better than that.
“Worth the wait?” he asks with raised eyebrows.
“Don’t brag,” I tease him. He knows he over performed. I came more times than I could count.
“I love you, Ashley,” he turns to me, his eyes suddenly serious.
“I love you, Carter Blaine,” I look deeply into those beautiful eyes and he smirks before reaching over to me.
With one hand on each of my cheeks, he pulls me into him and presses his lips against mine, passionately kissing me with everything he’s got left. If I had to guess I would imagine this is his silent way of letting me know that I was worth the wait, and he will never have any idea how much that means to me.
Epilogue - Ashley
One year later…
I sit next to Carter on the black sand beaches in Hawaii. This has to be the most perfect honeymoon ever. The entire beach is ours for the next two weeks. Yeah, two billion dollars will do that for you—plus the billions that Carter accumulated over the years on Head Hunter.
He’s crazy rich, and we don’t have to work another day in our lives if we don’t want to. I’ve handed over management of my seduction business to Lorraine. I’m still the CEO, but I won’t have much of an active role in day-to-day operations. Especially once the baby comes.
Carter leans over and rests his hand on my belly, which is only just starting to show—but only if you know that’s what you’re looking for.
The past year has been the most amazing ever. Carter and I have hot sex every single day—usually two or three times. And OMG is he like seriously a God in bed. You’d never know he’d been a virgin before me. He fucks like a champ. I am one lucky woman.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, dropping his mouth to my tit and playing with the nipple with his teeth. They’re extra sensitive since I got pregnant, but that only makes it even better. And yeah, we’re totally naked on this beach. What’s the point of renting out an entire beach if you can’t walk around naked with your twelve-inch cock husband?
“Just about how good you are to me,” I reply. He is. In and out of the bedroom. He’s everything I imagined he could be, and more. When I first read the file on Carter Blaine, I knew in my heart that he was something special, that he was quite the catch. And now he’s mine. Forever.
I lift my hand and look at the huge rock glittering in the tropical sunlight. I have no idea how much it cost, but if I know Carter, it was a ridiculous amount. He does everything in style.
Leaning me back onto the soft sand, Carter arches an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Just how good am I?” He kisses a trail to my other tit, sucking it into his mouth until I feel an ache between my legs that has to be satisfied. He doesn’t disappoint. His hand goes to my throbbing pussy, dipping inside the wetness and teasing me until I’m ready to come all over his fingers.
“So, so, so good,” I manage to gasp through my panting breaths. It’s always like this with us. We can’t get enough of each other, even a year later. I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s always going to be. And I’m so okay with that.
He kisses down my newly rounded belly and over my mound until his mouth settles between my legs.
And other than actual sex with him, this is my very favorite. It turns out the Head Hunter is actually quite the expert at giving head as well as receiving. And he’s definitely a giver. Lucky me.
“I love you,” I moan as he sends me soaring.
And when I finally come back down to earth, I sit up. “Your turn.”
He smiles. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”
It’s true. Something about that cock of his just makes my mouth water. It’s no wonder he got head all those years without even trying. But now it’s just for me. And I make sure he’s very well taken care of. No more hunting for him, because I’m here, willing and ready all the time.
Don’t get me wrong; we aren’t all about sex. We have a very healthy relationship and we're really a perfect fit in every way. But it certainly doesn’t hurt that the sex is good. And when I say good, what I mean is staggeringly, mind-blowingly, out of this world awesome.
I give him a wicked grin as I take his cock in my fist, then wink at him as I get ready to do one of my favorite things.
Life is good. And it’s only going to get better now that I’m Mrs. Carter Blaine with our sweet baby girl on the way.
I joked that we should name her Patience as a homage to his twenty-six years of waiting it out to lose his virginity, but Carter kind of likes it. I think it stuck.
After I go down on Carter for a bit, he finally pulls me back up to him, then sinks inside me, both of us moaning with satisfaction, and he says the thing I never get tired of hearing.
“You, Mrs. Blaine, were so worth the wait.”
Lust Muscle
A Billionaire Revenge Romance
By Alexis Angel
Copyright 2017 by Naughty Angel Publishing
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.
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Alexis Angel
Liam
I grab the flavor-of-the-day’s hips and pound my cock into her over and over, smirking when she cries out a string of words practically in worship of me and what I’m doing to her body.
“Oh, fuck, Liam, your cock is so big,” she squeals, writhing under my hands. “I’m gonna cum—”
Her words break off as I flick my thumb across her clit and make her cum all over my cock.
Fuck yeah, my cock is big. And I know exactly what to do with. This girl—Misty?—is just the latest to tell me how fucking amazing it is. Like I don’t know. There’s a reason I have a reputation as the hottest billionaire playboy in New York City. Everyone wants a piece of Liam Donovan. And I’m usually happy to give it to them.
Hard, fast, and dirty.
Sometimes more than once if the chick happens to be especially hot. But never for more than one night.
Shoving her face down into the bed and yanking her ass up even higher, I plunge into her even harder, groaning through my own orgasm.
“Fuck…” I grit out as I shoot hot, streaming jets of cum inside her, my cock throbbing with my release.
Then I pull out and let her fall to the bed, standing up and taking care
of the used-up condom. I tie it off and toss it in the trash and reach for my pants, ready to get the fuck away now that we both got what we came here for.
Misty (I think) rolls over on the bed and bites on the tip of a brightly painted fake fingernail. “Liam,” she coos, rubbing the wrinkled sheets beside her. “Why are you getting dressed? Come back to bed.” She pats it for emphasis.
I just look at her. What the fuck? She wants to cuddle or some shit?
“Uh, Misty—” she doesn’t correct me so I assume I got that much right, “—that’s not part of the deal.”
She pouts. “Maybe I’m not done with you.”
Too bad. I’m done with her.
“I thought maybe we could go again?” She bites her lower lip, no doubt thinking I’ll find it sexy. Whatever. Girls like Misty are a dime a dozen.
Well, at least in the circles I run in. Yeah, she’s some celebutante socialite, always on the pages of the tabloids, but girls like her throw themselves at me on the regular. I’ll have another one begging for my dick tomorrow.
Misty should know how this goes. It’s a one-night stand. I pull my pants on, making it clear that she needs to be happy with what she got. A nice, hard fucking from Liam Donovan.
She slumps back onto the bed and shrugs, yawning, and my mind moves on to other things. I have a lot to do for work tomorrow and I need to get some rest. I’ll sleep better now that I got my rocks off.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I notice that Misty’s already on her way to knocked out cold. Guess that’s what a bottle of wine and a good fucking will do to you.
Leaving her there naked on the bed, I leave the room, pulling the door shut behind me. She’s totally welcome to stay in the guest room all night if she wants. I always let the women I bring home sleep there if they want, even though I don’t invite them to. I won’t even have to ask my housekeeper to clean the room up tomorrow. She knows the drill. It’s the room I use for fucking, and it’s always fresh for the next girl in line.
I wonder briefly what my housekeeper thinks about that. I don’t ever fuck girls in my own room. It’s a rule. One I never break. But just as quick as the thought comes, it’s gone.
Strolling into the living room of my penthouse apartment, I look out the windows at the lights of Manhattan below. I could probably go get some work done tonight if I wanted to. I have a lot on my plate right now, trying to juggle everything.
Instead, I pour myself a glass of Scotch and settle on the grey sofa, my eyes on the city lights but my thoughts elsewhere. Taking a sip, I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling.
I have a fucking awesome life and I want to keep it that way. The best apartment, all the best and sexiest women, the envy of every man in Manhattan, more money than anyone could ever need. They all want to be me.
More than that, I have my work. I fucking love what I do. You can’t really beat that, can you? What more could I ask for?
Nothing. That’s what.
Yeah, some people want to razz me about my playboy lifestyle, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I like having a new woman in my bed every night. I like that I don’t have to worry about all the bullshit that comes with keeping one around for longer than that.
Slamming the rest of my drink back, I go to my imported German bar and pour another glass of ten-thousand-dollar Scotch. Nothing but the best for a Donovan.
I carry it toward my room, not bothering to look toward the guest room as I pass by. I’ll be gone before Misty manages to crack a hungover eye open in the morning. I work hard and play hard. My day tomorrow will be jam packed. And then the night will be spent drinking and fucking.
Stripping down again, I set my Scotch on my bedside table and grab a quick shower in my top-of-the-line en suite, then drop into bed naked. I grin as I prop myself up on a stack of feather pillows and pull the Egyptian cotton sheets up to my waist, sipping on my drink with one hand propped behind my head.
Like I said, everyone wishes they were me. I’ve got it all. Money, looks, women lining up for miles.
Fuck yeah. It’s good to be me.
Liam
Morning comes fast, and next thing I know, I’m sitting behind my huge mahogany desk while my assistant sets a cup of steaming black coffee in front of me. I’ll need to mainline caffeine if I want to get through everything on my agenda today.
“Thanks, Betty,” I tell her, giving her a charming grin.
She smiles. “Of course, Mr. Donovan. I baked you some cookies, too.”
Betty reminds me of a doting grandmother. Most people in my position would probably have a sexy young thing for an assistant. Not me. Like I need that kind of distraction while I’m working. Then things would only get complicated after I fucked her—which I’d obviously do. Nope. If I wanted eye candy in the office, I’d spend more of my time finding new assistants than I would working. Because no way would they be cool with working for me after I fucked them once and moved on.
That’s why Betty is the best. Even if she does make me put in extra time at the gym or my private swim club to justify all the stuff she bakes me and brings here.
“Keep the coffee coming, Betty,” I tell her. “I’m going to need it today.”
Settling in, I wake my computer and get ready to dive in. Until I’m interrupted by my phone ringing. Not the office phone, which Betty would totally screen. My cell phone. Looking at the screen, my hand clenches around it.
“Fuck.”
Misty’s face appears on my screen, some pouty look that she no doubt thinks looks sexy. How the hell did she program herself into my phone? Gritting my teeth, I silence it and set it aside.
It’s a damn good thing she has no idea where my office is. She’s probably still in my apartment. If she knew my office was in the very same building, she’d be worming her way in here. I can already tell she’s the clingy kind. How did I not see it before I took her home last night? I should’ve, because when she looked up at me after I fucked her, practically begging me to spend the night in bed with her, it was clear. And now she’s managed to get my phone number and is calling me first thing in the morning.
My phone blinks yet again. Fucking Misty.
What. The. Fuck.
I settle into my chair, trying to refocus. I might have to send my housekeeper in early to shoo her off if this continues. I definitely won’t be going back to the apartment until I know she’s gone.
This is the only downside of having my office in the same building—worrying about the women finding out it’s here. I need to be sure no one knows. I try to keep my office private. People don’t actually know what I do. And it’s a hell of a lot easier to keep up the facade of spoiled bachelor playboy who sits around the penthouse and counts his money all day when they don’t see me putting in long hours at the office.
Shoving Misty from my mind, I pull up the file listing out the most recent donations to one of my newer charities. I smile. It’s doing amazingly well already, and I love how much of a difference these funds will make. Today’s biggest priority is making arrangements for the allocation of these donations.
I get through that, then start making calls to the heads of some of my other charities. I like to touch base once a week to make sure things are going well.
“Mr. Smith,” I say, a smile in my voice when I’m transferred to the head of one of my favorites, “I hear things are going well.”
He greets me like an old friend, and I lean back in my chair as he starts filling me in on things I already know, for the most part. But I like to keep this personal element to my business interactions rather than just looking at reports all day.
As I listen, I notice my phone blinking again, and I lean forward and grab it. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Misty again.
I dismiss the call, trying to focus on Mr. Smith, but I have a hard time of it when I see that she’s been blowing up my phone all morning. Thirteen missed calls. Seriously?
Goddammit. I never should have given her my phone number. What the
hell was I thinking? Now she’s never going to leave me alone, no doubt wanting to try for another night together.
I barely manage to keep my head in the game for the rest of the afternoon after that because I keep seeing her slutty face pop up on my screen while I’m in the middle of other tasks. I’m going to have to block her ass.
By the end of the day, I’m mentally exhausted. Kicking back in my office chair, I scroll through my notifications and see a text from my mom buried in between Misty’s incessant missed calls. That brings a smile to my face, and I immediately tap the screen to call her back, propping my feet up on my desk as the phone rings.
“Liam,” her voice comes through, obviously happy to hear from me.
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“Better now that I’ve heard your voice.”
I chuckle. “You act like you haven’t heard from me in forever. We talked yesterday.”
We talk every day, in fact, giving each other updates on our lives.
“When are we having dinner again?” I ask her. She stays busy making appearances at many of the charity events around town, and I see her at some of them, but the general public has no idea that I’m the man behind most of them, so I don’t often go.
“How about tonight?” she asks. “Unless, of course, you have a hot date lined up.” Her voice is teasing, and I smile. She knows my playboy reputation, even though we never really speak of it. Because hello. Awkward.
“Nothing I wouldn’t cancel in a heartbeat for you, Mom.” It’s nothing less than the truth. While I fly through the women in my circles like they’re as disposable as they make themselves out to be, my heart actually only belongs to one woman. This incredible lady that raised me, instilling a sense of purpose in me that inspires me to do the work I do every day.
“Sounds great, darling. Eight o’clock?”
That will give me plenty of time to finish up here and hit the gym. “It’s a date.”