His Banana

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His Banana Page 14

by Penelope Bloom


  “Can you take this seriously?” I asked, even though I couldn’t help laughing a little. “I’m trying to put my soul at ease here and all you can do is make sex jokes?”

  “You have my full attention.”

  “I’m just trying to say I’m sorry, but not because I was planning to sneakily gather dirt on you and write the story. I want you to know that was never my intention even after the first couple days. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you why I was there in the first place sooner.”

  “I can’t be upset with you for not trusting me. I didn’t trust you at first, either, so I’d say we’re even.”

  After dinner, we went back to Bruce’s place, and it felt completely different going inside his apartment without knowing Braeden was there. I couldn’t pretend I was there for my brother this time, and there was no doubting where the night was going.

  Thankfully, Braeden was doing fine. I’d called several times since leaving the hospital to see if he was ready for us to come visit him and he kept telling me he’d kick my ass if I left my “dream day” with Batman.

  All the excuses were out of the way. All the doubts had been laid to rest. Tonight was ours, and we both knew where we wanted it to go.

  I felt it fluttering in my chest and pounding in my head as Bruce took me by the hand and led me through his apartment, straight to his bedroom. We both knew the flirtation and the waiting was over now. He’d played my game and taken me out for the night of my life, but it was time for the final act.

  I was so nervous I could feel my hands shaking. Nervous for what, I wasn’t sure. A new beginning. A possible ending. Or maybe just simply being disappointing to him somehow.

  In his bedroom, I burst out laughing when I saw a banana sitting on his nightstand. “You have to be kidding me,” I laughed, tears stinging my eyes.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” he said.

  I laughed even harder. “Oh God. I didn’t even think about that.”

  Bruce was laughing now too, but he seemed to be having more fun watching my amusement than anything else. “Sometimes I wake up hungry, okay?”

  "Okay," I said. I threaded my fingertips together behind his head, resting my forearms on his shoulders. Our eyes met, and the laughter dissolved into something heavier. Something full of pent-up desire. "My stomach is so full it hurts, but I'm already hungry."

  He lifted me, pressing me to his chest as he walked me to the bed and actually threw me on it like I was as light as a feather. I landed on my back, eyes never leaving his. He looked down at me with unmasked anticipation.

  “I’ve been waiting to spread you out and fuck you since the day I saw you. Since before I was ready to admit it.”

  I licked my lips as I scooted back to try to find the pillows, but I misjudged where I was on the bed and planted my hand over the side of the bed, nearly toppling over the edge.

  Bruce was there before I could fall, and he slid me back into the center of the bed. “Can I trust you not to fall off while I take off my clothes?” he asked.

  I blushed. “I’ll do my best. But, maybe you should be the one to undress me, you know, since I might end up hurting myself somehow.”

  “Is that right?” he asked. He was leaning over me with his hands planted on either side of my head. He raised one hand to strip away his tie and toss it to the floor. He flicked open a few of the buttons on his shirt before he seemed to lose patience with it and focused on me.

  I hadn’t exactly dressed for a date night and sex with a gorgeous billionaire when I got ready in the morning. I’d dressed for day number five million of my groveling act—which happened to be a white romper with a floral pattern.

  Bruce frowned down at it. “How do you get this thing off?” He started yanking at the waistband, which was nothing but a cinched up cord to keep it form-fitting. His touch on my waist tickled and surprised me, summoning up a bout of laughter.

  “S-s-stop,” I laughed. “Not there,” was all I could manage.

  I slid one arm out of the strap so he’d understand what to do next. He eased the next strap off my shoulder and then yanked the whole thing down, lifting my ass and feet to strip it completely off.

  I took a quick glance down to remember what underwear I was wearing and crossed my fingers that I hadn’t worn something too old. Thankfully, I was wearing pink, lacy panties and a matching bra. Given my usual luck, it was a miracle.

  He licked his lips as he took in the sight of me, and he seemed torn between diving straight into kissing my body or stripping away the last of my clothes. A moment later, he bent his neck to kiss my chest and down along my cleavage and then the line down my navel to my thighs. Every kiss was an explosion of warmth and tingling nerves, like little ripples of pleasure that spread through my entire body.

  I pawed at him with no shame, squeezing his muscles through his shirt and sliding my hands in the open seam of his shirt to feel his firm chest, gripping his biceps as he seemed to kiss his way across every last inch of me.

  He finally made his way back up to my mouth, where he kissed me deeply, and then I felt his hand moving up my thigh. He let the side of his hand brush against me, drawing out a shiver that ran through me like a shockwave. I bit his lip a little harder than I intended, but if he minded, he showed no sign of it.

  He dipped his hand into my panties, curling his fingers to reach me. My forehead scrunched together and my mouth hung open like I was in shock as he set his talented fingers to work. He slid them inside me to gather my wetness and then rubbed it up and down my pussy until I thought I was going to scream from the pure ecstasy.

  I distantly thought I should probably be reaching for his cock to return the favor as he fingered me, but I didn’t think I would be able to reach. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind the way things were going at all if the way he was breathing hot over my neck was any indication. His body moved in pace with his fingers, softly grinding against me like he couldn’t hold himself back until he was done, and his eagerness was a turn on in itself.

  I’d never had much confidence, especially in the sex department, so every shred of excitement and horniness he showed me was like liquid encouragement that I drank up thirstily.

  I held the back of his neck, not able to keep my fingers from digging into his skin and pressing his face into my neck. He felt so good, and he never stopped stealing kisses wherever he could reach.

  His pace increased and increased until I thought I was going to cum. “I want all of you,” I gasped. “Please. I want every inch inside me. I want to feel it.”

  He made a groaning sound, like my words were invisible hands that had started stroking him. He straightened and actually ripped his shirt open, popping off a button or two in the process. It was so out of character with his deliberate, organized nature that it sent a shiver of lust cascading through me.

  He rolled to his back and worked his pants and underwear off, showing no effort to worry about some kind of sexy striptease. Bruce just wanted to get naked and get inside me as fast as he could, and I thanked God for that, because I knew I couldn’t wait much longer before I would embarrass myself by literally ripping his clothes off myself and mounting him if he had delayed.

  He dug out a condom from his pants and tore the wrapper open, sliding it on himself. I was relieved that he was thinking straight, because I wasn’t sure I would’ve even remembered a condom right away. I might have actually let him inside me before the thought occurred to me, which was a little scary. I’d always been sensible. I’d always known I’d never let a guy near me without protection, and yet Bruce seemed somehow above those rules.

  I sat up and reached for him, halfway pulling him on top of me even as he moved into place. His erection was poised between us, and I craned my neck to watch. I expected him to grip himself and guide it in me, but he just expertly rocked his hips, driving the head of his cock between my folds and spreading my slick arousal over himself for a few tantalizing seconds. Then, once he seemed sure he was ready, he guided
himself in.

  It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t tentative. He started pressing himself inside me a bit at a time. My walls had to stretch to accommodate him, which definitely had not been the case the one time I’d slept with a guy before. I found myself liking the sensation, like I was being filled in a way I never realized I craved so deeply.

  “Deeper,” I gasped. “God. I want more. Please.”

  He made another groaning sound, leaving no doubt that he loved when I talked like that. I wasn’t “talking dirty” for show or because I thought it was something he wanted. The words were just coming out of me. I had as little control over it as I might have over a sneeze. I’d never felt anything like it. It was as if my desperation for this was so intense that my body was overriding my brain and my self-consciousness.

  “You’ll get it all, intern. Don’t worry.” His words were a sensual rasp in my ear, accented by a puff of warm air and a quick nip from his teeth on my earlobe followed by a kiss to soothe away the sting.

  He was almost completely inside me now, and the sensation was nearly more than I could take. My fingers were digging into the sheets, his back, the pillow, gripping the headboard—whatever they could find to keep me rooted in reality and from drifting away with the overwhelming bliss he was filling me with.

  I shamelessly rocked my hips into him, lifting my ass off the bed and hooking my legs around the back of his thighs for leverage to drive myself up and him deeper into me. I pushed through the sensation of my walls widening for him, not caring about anything except getting all of him in me. I hadn’t just been talking. I needed every bit of him. Every inch.

  18

  Bruce

  She was divine. Every thrust into Natasha felt like it was obliterating the memory of any woman who’d ever come before. The nights I’d spent trying to find something meaningful in the arms of someone else were shattered to dust. The wasted time I’d spent with Valerie felt insignificant now. How had I ever thought she was close to good enough? How had I never realized a woman could be so much more, could feel so much more incredible?

  I kept my upper body upright with a hand planted on the bed, but freely used my other hand to grip Natasha’s breasts, which were the perfect size. They were just big enough to give me a handful and then some, with perky nipples that were constantly at full attention for me. I ran my hand over every bit of her, feeling just as mesmerized by the graceful lines of her neck and hips as I was by the carnal pleasure of her pussy’s chokehold on my cock and the soft weight of her breasts. She was an angel. Perfection. Above all, she was mine. There was no denying it.

  Every last fragment of her attention was on me, and mine was on her. It wasn’t just the connection of my cock thrusting deeply into her warmth and wetness or the way her moans were spilling out of her more and more powerfully. It was the feeling that we were forming some kind of seal, a bond, like nothing I’d ever felt.

  We had been engaged in a fragile dance for weeks now. There was reluctance and caution on both sides. We’d taken exploratory stabs toward each other, toward something meaningful, but neither of us had been ready to take the full plunge. This was that plunge. Every time I pressed myself into her, the feeling grew. We were building something.

  And I wanted to build every angle of it just right, so I gripped her hips and turned her over, flipping her to her stomach and making her get on all fours for me. If the way she let out a low, surprised moan when I slid into her from behind was any sign, she approved.

  Her narrow waist formed the sexiest teardrop shape as it spread out into her ass. I gripped her right in the spot where her waist was most narrow, loving the control I felt and how I could yank her into me, using her like my own personal fucktoy. I gave it to her hard from behind, increasing my pace until every thrust was punctuated by the slap of my hips against her supple ass.

  She reached up to grip the headboard, and I loved that she couldn’t stop turning around to look at me. She wasn’t content to close her eyes and imagine. She wanted to see me. And I could tell the sight of me fucking her was driving her up the wall, because her eyes couldn’t stop flicking from my face to my chest and abs and even my hands on her body.

  I reached around her to grip her breasts, which felt even heavier and larger as they hung below her and shook every time I pounded into her.

  “I want to see you more,” she said breathlessly. She turned around to grip my shoulder and urged me down on the bed so I was on my back.

  I'd always preferred to be the one in control, but the way she wanted to initiate this new position was so hot that I didn't care. I loved every second of watching her climb on top of me. She wrapped her hand around my cock, which was absolutely covered in her arousal, and she eased herself down onto me, giving me the most spectacular view of her entire body, from the way her inner thighs were glistening wet to her parted lips that were still bright red from our kisses.

  She gasped with relief as she lowered herself down. When she caught me looking back at her as she started bouncing up and down on me, she looked away, cheeks flushing the most perfect shade of red. I reached up to grip her ass, and started moving my hips up to meet her movements. I was close to losing it now. I was so fucking close.

  She put one hand on her own breast, and I loved that it seemed unconscious, like she didn’t even realize how insanely sexy she was as she fondled herself while she rode me.

  She leaned forward then, planting both hands on my chest and finally let loose. She gripped me like a handhold and started humping me shamelessly. I laid back and enjoyed the ride, watching her scrunched forehead and her swaying breasts. It was pure ecstasy, and I knew if I let it go much longer, I was going to cum.

  I had spent weeks fantasizing about how I’d fuck her, and every time, it ended with me on top of her. It ended with her small hands digging into my back and her legs wrapped tightly around me like she was clinging on for dear life.

  I reached up, planted a hand in the center of her chest, and forced her backwards as I rolled up. Somehow, I managed to keep myself inside her through the shift of positions, and within seconds, I was on top of her. I reached back and pulled her legs up so they were wrapped around my waist and leaned down to kiss her.

  Then I let her have it. I didn’t hold back anything. I didn’t worry about drawing things out or whether she’d cum before I did, because I could feel how close she was. I knew she was on the edge, just like I was.

  Her hands dug into my back, and it was the completion of my fantasy. I was exactly where I’d wanted, and I felt my balls tighten as my orgasm reached the final stage. At the same moment, her fingers pressed even harder into me and she cried out.

  “I’m cumming.”

  I felt her walls tense around me, milking my cock like her body wanted to make sure it didn’t miss a drop of cum, even though I was wearing a condom. My own cock pulsed, releasing an orgasm that lasted longer and felt more intense than anything I’d ever experienced.

  I kissed her once more before slowly sliding out of her and sitting up on my knees. I took in the sight of her, exhausted, spread wide for me, and absolutely soaked.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I said.

  She licked her lips and looked down at me, obviously still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm.

  “Any chance you’d be up for a shower?” She asked. “I might need your help cleaning up though. I feel a little weak in the knees right now.”

  “I was hoping you’d ask,” I said.

  Natasha slept over at my place, and I got ready as quietly as I could the following morning. I slipped out of bed in the early hours and spent a great deal of time on my computer once I’d gotten dressed for work. When I finally heard Natasha’s bare feet shuffling on the floor, I called for her to sit with me at the kitchen table.

  She sat down, looking adorably confused with her hair sticking up on one side and her eyes still puffy and squinted from sleep.

  “You’re all dressed?” she asked.

 
; “Yes. I did a little work this morning researching a potential employee. I’ve looked over her body of work and decided she would be an incredible fit for our the team at Galleon.”

  She looked uncomfortable, like she saw where this was going and was trying to figure out how to politely shut it down. “Bruce… I appreciate it. I really do, but I don’t want to be your intern again. I want to be with you, but I don’t want to work as some kind of slave getting paid charity money.”

  “I’m not talking about an internship. I’m talking about a real spot on my team. I’ve seen that you have a head for this, Natasha. What most of my employees do isn’t about having the right college degree or learning the right formulas in school. It’s just instinct and what’s up here.” I tapped my temple. “I read your articles. You have an amazing grasp of the real reasons a business ticks, and that’s half the battle with marketing. We can easily teach you the rest.”

  She frowned, shaking her head and looking down at her hands. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I still feel like this is just you finding a way to give me a handout. I know I need it, but it’s important to me to earn my way. I never wanted to feel like I was a burden on anybody or like I didn’t belong. Besides, my dream was always to be a journalist. I don’t even know if I’d like being a marketer or whatever it is you’re describing.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I want to give you money. I’ve wanted to give you money to fix your problems even when I was trying to push you out of my life. I’d never have missed the money it would take to set you up to live happily for years and years in the city, but I knew you were the kind of person who wouldn’t take a handout. You’re proud and you have integrity. I love that about you. So believe me when I say this isn’t a handout. If I had looked over your work and thought you really couldn’t do the job, I wouldn’t be making you this offer. Would I be going through the trouble of digging through your articles if I didn’t know you? No. But that’s life. Getting the good jobs is sometimes about who you know, and taking this wouldn’t be taking any more of an advantage than half the people living in the city have taken.”

 

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