Head Hunter: A Virgin Billionaire Reverse Romance
Page 73
And as he thrusts into me again and again, hard and fast, I feel the familiar sensations of another cresting orgasm.
“More,” I cry out, my eyes still locked on his. “Harder.” I can’t get enough of him. He’s already driving into me with such force that our skin is slapping together, our breath coming out in strangles gasps. But he still picks up the pace even more, forcing his way inside me over and over until I feel like I’m about to explode.
His grunts and groans are so fucking sexy that they only heighten my arousal, knowing it’s me giving him this pleasure. I’m the one bringing him to the edge.
“I don’t know how much longer I can last, baby,” he growls. “You’re just so fucking tight. It feels so amazing. So perfect.”
His words send me careening over the edge unexpectedly, my body convulsing, my pussy clamping down on his cock as he slams into me harder. Over and over, I pulse around him, crying out his name as I cum harder than I ever have before.
Then I feel him swell up even more inside of me, and he groans again and harshly bites out, “Fuck. Oh, Cydney. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he cums in my pussy, his face contorted in a mask of pure pleasure.
The knowledge that I’ve brought him to this edge sends me on yet another orgasmic wave as the first one has barely passed.
We collapse in a sweaty heap, my hands still suspended above me. When he catches his breath, Colt lifts up to untie me. Carefully. Gently. Totally opposite from the rough way he just used my body for both of our pleasure. It’s a contradiction that is somehow sweet.
When my hands are free, I wrap them around him, running them all over his body that I was denied the chance to touch earlier. I want to touch everywhere. Feel everything.
They trail along his strong shoulders, his broad chest, his chiseled abs, finally resting on his thick cock that is still hard. For me.
I wrap my hands around it and squeeze, pulling a groan from him.
He quirks a brow at me. “Not satisfied yet? You trying to kill me, woman?”
I laugh. “Oh, I’m plenty satisfied. For now. It’s just my turn to touch you now.”
He flips me over until I’m straddling him, his cock nestled in between my legs and I rock against him as I continue to explore his body with my hands. I lower my head to his chest, needing to taste him again.
I feel his dick twitch beneath me and raise my eyebrows. “Ready to go again so soon?”
He smiles. “You owe me a ride.”
I smirk. “If you’re lucky.”
But as I raise up and then lower myself back down onto his cock, I feel like I might be the one that’s lucky. This has been a night I’ll never forget.
“Stay here with me,” Colt says. “As long as I’m in town. Stay. I need more of you.”
The words are everything I need to hear. Because that’s exactly what I want too. What I need.
I ride him, just like I promised I would, knowing for sure that I’m the lucky one now. And I say the one word that has been my answer to everything with him. The only word I know how to say to him.
“Yes.”
Dominic & Poppy
Dominic
The woody smell of the whiskey in my glass relaxes me a little more as I settle back in the velvet booth, my eyes barely noticing the stripper onstage. My nerves have been on edge all day. Work is getting to me, and so is my ex-girlfriend Stacy.
She came by my office again today, knowing I wouldn’t toss her out on her ass as rudely as I would have if she’d come to my apartment. She just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t understand why she never made me happy.
It’s not just Stacy. It’s everyone. Every woman I’ve ever been with. None of them are enough. They can’t be.
They aren’t her.
I grit my teeth, my hand clenching around my glass so tightly I wonder if it might shatter.
Taking a calming breath, I try to put her out of my mind. Not an easy feat. No matter what I do, no matter how many women or drinks I try to bury her memory with, she’s always there, just under the surface.
Tempting me. Taunting me. Tormenting me.
The lights on the stage in front of me dim as the naked girl on the pole finishes her act. The music changes as the next girl comes on, slower and more seductive than the driving beat the last girl stripped to. This girl’s body is barely visible in the shadows.
I glance away, not really interested, and knock back the rest of my drink. I tilt my chin at the waitress passing by and lift my glass, indicating I want another.
I stare into the empty glass, trying to push away the thoughts of her that refuse to die. Knowing it’s useless.
Sighing, I rest my head back against the velvet booth, watching through lidded eyes as the girl onstage begins to move in the shadows as the music swells. The spotlight flicks on, bathing the stage in hazy pink light.
And the air punches from my lungs. Emptying them completely.
The world around me spins out of control. My throat tightens. My chest contracts.
And my dick is hard as a rock.
The woman onstage looks out at the audience, a look of straight up sex on her face. Her full tits and rounded ass are on full display in barely-there black lace as she wraps herself around the pole.
Fucking hell.
It’s her.
Poppy.
The one woman I’ve always wanted and can never have.
It takes everything in me to stay in my seat, and even then I’m still not sure I can maintain that control. Especially if she really thinks she’s going to take off what little clothing she has on in front of all these other people.
Mine.
Even though she’s not. Even though she never can be. But that’s how I think of her. I want to rip her off that stage and cover her with a blanket so no one can see the delicious curves that are driving me to the brink of insanity at this very moment.
The beat of the music picks up, the sultry chords assaulting my ears, my eyes transfixed as Poppy’s long blonde hair shifts and swirls around her as she gyrates on that pole.
God, I’d give anything for that to be my cock right now. My entire life—from the time I was fourteen—I’ve fantasized about what is happening right in front of me. I’m torn between a desperate need to get the fuck out of there and stay right where I am, watching as she reaches between her full tits and unclasps the bra that she’s spilling out of. Because I don’t know if I can handle seeing this.
I don’t know if I can resist the temptation to sin if I see what’s underneath that lace.
But I don’t move. I sit there as she lets the bra fall down her arms then tosses it away.
Fuck.
So fucking perfect. Full tits with dusky pink nipples standing at attention, puckered and begging for my mouth.
She reaches up to touch them, pinching them between her fingers, and I’m done.
I lose it. I come completely unhinged.
Mine.
The one word is all that’s echoing through my head. All I can focus on as I propel myself out of the booth and toward the stairs that lead backstage.
I push past the bouncer, not giving a damn that he’s fucking intimidating.
My purpose is set, and nothing will stop me until I get to her.
Poppy.
My stepsister.
Poppy
One minute I’m doing my job, trying hard to hide in the recesses of my mind, to not be an active participant in what I’m doing. Stripping.
The next minute I’m gasping as I’m ripped from the stage in nothing but my panties. If they can even be called that.
My eyes go wide in terror. I don’t know who has me or what they’re doing, but all I do is search desperately for the security guard somewhere in the darkness of the room.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a voice growls against my ear.
I suck in a sharp breath as my body goes limp, every bit of strength leaving me as I slump against the hard chest I’m trapped against.
“Dominic?” I don’t even recognize my voice, the breathy, needy sound that rips from my chest as he pulls me backstage and whirls me around, pushing my back up against a wall in the dark shadows behind the curtains.
“I said what the fuck are you doing?” His voice is hard. Nearly as hard as the icy expression in his blue eyes. I could get lost in those eyes. I nearly do.
Until they drop from my face to take in my body, my tits that are inches from his chest.
“Oh god,” I whisper, my hands coming up instinctively to cover them.
That gorgeous face twists in a sneer. “Now you’re going to cover yourself? Jesus, Poppy, how long have you been taking your clothes off for money.”
So much anger.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
So much shame. So much hurt. He still has the ability to draw up those emotions in me.
“Come on. I’m getting you out of here.” Dominic grabs my arm and pulls me toward the dressing room. His voice is strained when he says, “Put your clothes on.”
I know he expects me to do what he says. Just like I always did. But I’m not that girl he used to know. Not anymore.
I shake my head. “This is my job, Dom. I can’t just leave. I need the money.” Desperately.
He smiles, but it’s full of rage and violence. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’d give you money if you needed it. Instead, you’re doing this? You’re fucking—” He rakes a hand through his dark hair, breaking off as if he can’t even say it.
I tilt my chin up, staring at him in defiance. “Stripping? Yes. Obviously.”
He practically growls, pushing me into the dressing room and slamming the door shut behind him. “Get. Dressed.”
And despite thinking I’m not that girl anymore, the one who always gave into him, I realize I still am. I grab my clothes from a hanger and fumble to put them on, my hands shaking the whole time. I’m intensely aware of his eyes on me as I slip on my jeans and simple white t-shirt. No bra thanks to him yanking me off the stage so quickly.
I slide my feet into my Converse sneakers, and then he’s back at my side, yanking me back out of the dressing room and out the backstage door into an alley.
I don’t say anything as he pulls me along, his fury radiating off him in waves. I want to say something, but I can barely think past the fact that I haven’t seen him in three years. And now he’s right here. So close. The heat from his strong body warming me up in the chill of the late night air.
I stay silent all the way until we reach the stairwell leading to the 6 Train platform. “Where are we going?”
He looks at me for the first time since we left the club. His eyes are clouded, conflicted. Still blazing with anger, but now hot with something else. Something I haven’t seen there but once before. Not since the night he left the home we shared with my mother and his father.
He looks away and pulls me through the turnstile, dragging me onto the train and sitting me in the seat beside him as the doors to the train slide closed.
The train lurches forward, and I ask him again. “Where are we going?”
“Home.”
One word. But it fills me with a sense of ease that I haven’t felt in three years. I know he means his home. The one place where I know I’ll feel safe.
Dominic
The look of relief on Poppy’s face tells me everything I need to know. Not only is she stripping now, but she’s obviously got other shit going on in her life.
Well, now that I’ve found her, I sure as hell won’t let her get away again. I should never have let her in the first place, but it was the only way I knew I could keep her safe. From me.
I watch her, wanting to ask what happened in the last three years to get to this point. But also not wanting to ruin the sudden shift in mood, not wanting to change whatever it is that has her leaning against me as the train flies through the dark tunnels of the city.
Hooking my arm around her neck, I pull her closer, leaning down and pressing a hard kiss to her head’s sweet scent.
She turns to me, tilting her face up, and the swell of her tit brushes my chest. I’m acutely aware of the fact that she has no bra on. And now that the image of her taut nipples is burned into my brain, I’m suddenly not able to think about anything else.
Shit.
This is exactly why I left in the first place. She’s fucking irresistible. I’ve wanted her for years. And I always knew it was wrong. I couldn’t live with her another day without acting on the impulses that drove me mad.
But here I am taking her back to my apartment on the Upper East Side. And she’s no longer that young girl she used to be. She’s all woman, lush curves and carnal need. I see it in her eyes as she stares up at me. There is no mistaking that look.
There is no way this won’t end badly. And I feel powerless to stop it.
But I’m damn well going to try.
“Dom,” she says softly, reaching up to brush my hair off my forehead. “I’ve missed you.”
A stab to my heart. So fucking sweet. This girl is going to be my demise.
Her fingers trail down my face, tracing over my jaw, her eyes hungry as she takes me in. It would be so easy to forget for just a moment why this is wrong. Why it can’t work. To dip my head down and taste those full, pouty lips. To slip my hand under her shirt and tease those nipples that are hard pebbles beneath the thin white fabric.
“I missed you too, baby,” I grit out, unable to take my eyes from her face. I swallow as she turns more to face me, so close, her mouth mere inches from mine.
Poppy takes my face in her hands and reaches up, dropping a feather-light kiss on my cheek. I feel my jaw tick with the insane amount of restraint it takes to remain still as she watches me with those big baby blues.
Her hands drop to my chest, her fingers gripping my shirt as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear again. What she doesn’t realize is that I suddenly feel powerless against her. That after a lifetime of fighting it, seeing her tonight, having her here next to me, I don’t know if I’m able to fight the need that draws me to her. I always held onto control by a thin thread, and it feels like it’s about to snap with her soft, warm hands on my body.
If not for the fact we’re on a public train, I don’t know that I could keep it together, keep from devouring her. And I’m stupid enough to be taking her back to my apartment.
My eyes sear into hers, and her breathing becomes more labored, her chest heaving against mine, torturing me. Her eyes are dark with lust. It’s a fucking good thing she never looked at me like this when we were younger. I would have ruined her.
I lift my hand to her porcelain face, brushing my thumb over her lips then winding my fingers into her blonde waves. “You have no idea what’s going through my mind right now. I shouldn’t take you home with me.”
Poppy’s mouth parts on a gasp as she studies my face. “Tell me.”
I take her hand from my chest and press it against my raging hard-on, showing her exactly what I’m thinking, what she does to me. “You may regret agreeing to come with me.”
She shakes her head, licking her lips and crushing my last bit of resolve to do the right thing. Her hand tightens around my stiff cock, and I groan.
But her words completely do me in.
“Regret is the last thing I’m going to feel. I’ve wanted this as long as I can remember.”
Poppy
I want him so badly I can barely stand it. I’ve always wanted him. From the time our parents married when we were teenagers up until this very moment, part of me has dreamed of the day Dom would be more than just a fantasy.
I wasn’t sure it would ever come. But as my hand strokes up and down his hard length straining against his jeans, I know that day is today. I can’t even believe I’m having this effect on him. He is so hard. So big. It terrifies me and thrills m
e all at once.
His eyes go a little wild. “You want this?” he grits out.
I nod, my eyes dropping to his mouth. “So much.”
“Fuck, Poppy.” His eyes dart around the train as if he’s looking to see if anyone is watching.
I don’t even care if anyone is. That’s how desperate I am to have more of him. Right the fuck now.
I scrape my fingers down over his cock and smile in satisfaction when I feel it twitch beneath my hand. “You want it, too?”
His laugh is sharp with a touch of bitterness. “You have no idea, do you?” His eyes cloud over again.
“What?”
“This. This right here. I’ve wanted this from the moment I first saw you.”
I feel like a cartoon character whose eyes bug from their head. “Come on, Dom. Be serious.”
An intensity grips him, and he takes my jaw in his hand. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I tried to stay away from you, Poppy. I knew it was wrong. That’s why I left. I couldn’t resist you anymore, and I knew if I stuck around I would mess everything up.”
A million questions fly through my head. All the shame I felt all those years for feeling this attraction to him—and he felt it too? All the hurt he caused me when he left—he did it with good intentions. I don’t know what to think. How to process it.
So instead of addressing it, I say, “Why now?”
“You’ve haunted me for years. Even tonight when I was sitting in that booth before you came onstage—” his eyes harden for a moment, “—you were who I was thinking about. And when I saw you? The idea of you up there and all those fuckers seeing you made me crazy. Not when, as wrong as it is, I can’t think of you as anything but mine.”