Page 15 of Curvy Girl for the Billionaire

"God, Charlie, you're so perfect," I groan, mesmerized by the way her body stretches and yields to mine. "So damn hot... all these curves...made just for me."

Her moans are my undoing, and as I stroke my cock in and out of her delicious pussy, I lean down to whisper fiercely against her ear, "I'll never use a condom, Charlie. Never. Never want anything between us."

“Alex!” she screams my name, and that’s my undoing. I feel my load rocketing up my stalk, and then I’m flooding her pussy with my seed.

I come so much, there’s no way in hell I’m not going to get her pregnant, and that’s alright with me because this woman is going to be my wife.

"Every sweet inch of you belongs to me," I tell her, and I seal that vow with a deep, searing kiss that promises eternity.

epilogue

. . .

Five years later

Charlie

The sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the large windows of our penthouse. I watch our twin boys, their laughter mingling with the clink of toys, an echo of pure joy that fills the spacious living room.

After that night that Alex chased after me and admitted the truth, we became a real couple, and it wasn’t shortly after that we were married.

And true to his word, Alex has never used a condom with me.

My event planning business took off in full swing with the full support of my billionaire husband.

He’s still growly and possessive as hell and insists on going with me to every event I do to keep other men away from me, but I’m totally okay with that because I’m just as addicted to him as he is to me.

Alex's arms encircle me from behind, his lips grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck. My entire body trembles, and I hear the low growl in his throat as he presses his hard cock against my ass.

I squeeze my thighs together to try to ease the sudden ache that’s bloomed between them.

"Boys," Alex calls out with authority softened by affection, "time for bed."

I turn within his embrace to face him, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. "Let me tuck them in," I whisper, my heart swelling with love for the life we've built.

"Of course, beautiful." His voice is a seductive promise.

Minutes later, after kisses goodnight and a short goodnight story, our boys are fast asleep. I return to find Alex, lounging like a panther on the prowl, his tailored suit replaced by the shadows and contours of our dimly lit bedroom.

"Come here," he demands, a hint of possessiveness lacing his tone.

My feet carry me toward him, magnetized by the intensity of his gaze. He watches every sway of my hips, like a hunter focused solely on his prey.

When I reach him, his hands roam over my curves, mapping the territory he claims as his own.

"Alex," I gasp as his fingers trace the hem of my silk nightgown, his touch igniting a flame that only burns hotter between us every year.

"Charlie," he growls back, and there's no mistaking the raw desire in his voice. It's dark and heady, filled with unspoken promises.

He peels away the fabric barrier, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The cool air kisses my skin, but it's the heat of his stare that sends shivers down my spine. I'm exposed, vulnerable, but in his eyes, I see nothing but worship.

I sink to my knees, the plush carpet cushioning my descent. Alex's anticipation is tangible, a current that connects us. With deliberate slowness, I undo his belt, the metallic click resonating in the charged silence.

"Fuck, wife," he breathes out, a testament to his unraveling control.

"Shh," I soothe, my fingers trailing lower, freeing him from the confines of his boxer briefs. The sight of his arousal, strong and commanding, makes moisture flood between my thighs.

I lean forward, my lips hovering just a breath away from him. Our eyes lock, a silent conversation passing between us—only I get to see him this way.

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