Page 45 of The Billionaire Babe

“Come in,” she says, reaching forward. My hand immediately takes hers, entwining our fingers. I haven’t held hands with a girl as much as I do with Val, ever. I clearly remember the last girl I held hands with. Her name was Stacey, and it was in sixth grade. Back at a time when I still attended school. We held hands for merely a second during gym class for some activity before she sharply pulled away and told me I was disgusting. I watched as she wiped her hand on her top and looked mortified. I was still living with my mom at the trailer. We didn't have any money, so I often wore the same clothes. Quick cold showers were all I could muster at that age, and even then, they weren’t daily. I don’t blame Stacey for not wanting to touch me. But the entire class laughed at me, and I have never held hands with a woman since. Until now. It should feel strange, but her hand is small, delicate, soft, and my hand totally engulfs hers. And I like it.

“Are you sore?” Her brows crumple, looking at me with concern, yet another thing I don’t see often, as I step into her space and close the door behind me.

“My mind is on other things,” I say, looking at her, before taking in her apartment. It is nice. Real nice. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook most of the city. Creams and whites, everything fluffy, plush and soft. No blacks or grays. A few pops of pink, enough to make it girly. Fresh flowers on most surfaces, all roses. Feminine decor and amazing artwork on the walls. It is luxurious and like nothing I have ever seen before. And in complete contrast to my living arrangements.

“You took some hard hits.” She continues, pulling me into her kitchen where a large island counter sits with what looks to be a marble countertop, again perfectly clean and polished.

“We are going to have a stern talk about why you were at my boxing match and what the hell you were thinking coming, but that is going to happen after I make you scream my name so loud your prissy neighbors complain.” Her cheeks flush a little as she sucks in a breath. But I don’t wait a moment longer.

I pull her by the hand to me quickly, wrapping my other hand around her waist, my hand settling firmly on her lower back as my lips meet hers. Her body softens in my hold immediately, leaning into me, her hands running up my body and resting on my chest. As her lips open slightly, I sweep my tongue across hers, and she lets out a whimper that shoots me directly in my balls. I want to make this woman beg. Whimper, pant, moan, mewl. All of it. I want to make her do it all.

My hands roam her body, and as fucking hard as I am right now, I am trying to take my time because I didn’t get to earlier. In the training room, I had to be quick. I had to get my taste of her before I exploded. Now the urge to have her is just as strong, but I want my lips on every last inch of her skin. Tracing her curves, my hands find her ass and squeeze. I grind her hips hard against mine, rubbing my hard length against her. She has a great fucking body.

Her hands run up my neck, and her fingers dig into my hair. I lift her by the ass and place her on top of her kitchen counter so we are eye level. Stepping into her open legs, our mouths don’t come off each other. My hands move around her front, and I cup her tits, molding them in my palms.

“You’ve got incredible tits,” I murmur against her lips, remembering the question Simone asked me at Chloe’s showing. I sweep my hands lower and grab the hem of her top and pull it straight up her body and over her head, letting her hair fall back down around her shoulders, and I get my first glimpse of her in her red lace bra. Grazing my fingers down the strap and around the cup, I leave a trail of goosebumps on her skin. As I move lower, down her body, her soft skin taunts me until I reach her jeans. I want to see her in nothing but her matching red lace underwear.

“Your turn,” she says, grabbing at my t-shirt, and I let her pull it off, happy to have her touching my bare skin again. As I pop the button of her jeans and pull down her zipper, her hands smooth over my shoulders, tracing my tattoos.

“Down,” I say as I grab her from the counter and put her back on her feet, as I pull her jeans down in one shove. She steps out of them as her hands hit my belt, and once she undoes my jeans, I push them down as well. Going commando helps the situation, as my dick springs up, hitting my stomach, and a little gasp leaves her mouth.

“As much as I loved your mouth earlier, this time I am fucking your pussy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I watch her throat bob on a swallow. I give her a wink, and she grins. I like making her smile. Her smile with me is genuine, nothing at all like the smile I see her give almost everyone else. Another thing that does something to my insides.

I grab a condom from my pocket and rip it open, precum already forming on my tip.

“I have never been with someone so…” she trails off, a little nervous about my size.

“You can take it,” I tell her, cutting her off as I sheath myself. Picking her up by the ass, I kiss her again. Her legs wrap around my waist and her hands circle my neck as I start to walk slowly with her in my arms. We are glued to each other, me totally naked apart from the latex on my cock and her in her matching red lace underwear, looking like a model from one of those fancy magazines. I lower my mouth, lifting her slightly, and put my lips on her tit, sucking her nipple from the outside of the lace.

“Oh… AJ,” she moans, her head falling back, hair tickling my fingers as her nipple pebbles in my mouth. I move a hand, bringing it to her front and pulling down her bra cup, watching in pure lust as her tit pops out, and I take it in my mouth again. My mouth is greedy as my lips suck and my teeth nip. Her back hits the wall, and I push her against it, securing her body as I pull down the other bra cup and give the other breast the same treatment.

“Hmmm, God, that feels good…” she murmurs as I lap at her nipple, my hand now moving lower.

“Is your pussy weeping as I suck on your perfect tits?”

Her body automatically responds. Fingers digging into my flesh at my shoulders, she grinds her hips into me some more.

“Yes… so wet…” she whimpers, the sound sweet, and I nearly lose control, wanting to give her the relief she needs. I slip my finger around the lace hem of her underwear.

“I am so fucking hard for you, baby; we’re not even going to make it to the sofa. I am going to fuck you right here, right against this wall.” My lips trail up her neck, her tits pressing against my bare flesh, and my fingers continue teasingly tracing the outside of her center.

“Yes. AJ, yes.” Her legs tighten around me.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to own your pretty pussy. Beg me for it,” I grit out, barely contained. I love talking dirty, and I want more than anything else for this woman, who can have anything or anyone, to beg me for what I can give her.

“Please…” she says, her hips grinding against my hand, trying to find some friction.

“Please what?” I tease, my teeth nipping the edge of her earlobe, waiting for her to say the words.

“Please, fuck me, AJ. Please own my pretty pussy.”

I pull the lace to the side and sink into her so hard and so fast, her body buckles against the wall.

“Ahhhh!” she screams, grabbing on to my shoulders firmly, and I grit my teeth, feeling her warm, wet pussy wrap around me.

“That’s it, fuck… that’s it.” My hips move rapidly, slamming her against the wall. Her body bounces with every thrust, and I pull away a little to watch her tits jiggle as her hands claw at my shoulders, trying to hang on.

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