Page 33 of His Curvy Temptation

As I feel my orgasm mounting, I forget everything.

I forget the fact that I’ve only known this guy for a couple of days.

Forget that he’s a client, and that I’m pretty sure my boss would kill me if he knew.

I also forget that he’s a billionaire and that I’m a broke college student, that he’s chiseled and carved like a Greek god while I shop in the (clearance) plus size section.

None of it matters. Though we couldn’t be more different, more unexpected of a match, none of it even matters in this moment. We’re two people, bodies and souls bared, sharing this night together and the pleasure it brings.

His tongue is flicking me now, fast and hard, and his hands have traveled up my torso to caress my breasts. They overflow in his fingers and he massages them softly, his thumbs sliding roughly over my nipples again and again.

All while his tongue relentlessly attacks, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

My screams and moans reverberate off the penthouse ceilings as I come. He drinks me in, sucking and licking between my legs like he can’t get enough, like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

He leaves me shivering and quaking on the couch as he stands up and pulls a condom from his pocket. He unbuckles his belt and I watch him pull the zipper of his pants down, then push his boxers down. He pulls his cock out, gripping it by the thick and meaty base. The tip of it is already glistening with his arousal.

Rolling the condom over his shaft, he pushes me back on the couch again. I’m still panting, still struggling for air as he guides himself to my opening. His eyes are on mine, intense and dark, as he slowly penetrates me. I feel him, all of him, as he slides further inside of me, so deep, stretching my walls and overwhelming me.

“Fuck,” he growls when he’s all the way in me, his hips pressed against my ass and thighs. “I’m going to come fast, Andy. You are so goddamn perfect.”

“Come,” I tell him, stroking his chest as I try to relax my core, to get used to his size inside of me. It doesn’thurt; it just feels like…so fucking much. Like delicious, overwhelming pleasure that begins inside of me and radiates outward.

He pulls his hips back slowly until his cock is nearly out, only the tip of it pressed inside of me. Holding himself there, just barely inside of me, Elijah leans down and kisses me softly and slowly, his tongue parting my lips and invading my mouth, caressing me.

Without warning, his hips slam down against me, his cock sliding into me in one smooth, quick motion.

“Fuck!” I shout, my exclamation muffled against his mouth.

He’s already pulling back again, so agonizingly slow. And then he does it again — slides his entire length back inside of me with brutal force, so hard that it pushes me up on the couch.

Again and again, he fucks me hard, hips slamming against me. He leans over me down, his heavy torso pressed against my chest, his mouth at my ear so that I can feel his breathy moans.

“You’re mine,” he growls in my ear. “Say it. Say you belong to me.”

His words send chills through my body. I don’t know how he does it but he’s somehow dark and light, soft and hard at the same time. Owning me from the inside out with his body and his words all at once, his cock crashing into me, stretching me, pushing me to my limit as he hisses these directions in my ear, commanding me.

“Say it,” he growls again. “Say you belong to me.”

“I belong to you,” I gasp.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “You do. You belong to me. Mine. You. Are. Mine.”

And I believe him. I don’t know why, but I do. And even more confusing to me, is the fact that I don’t even mind that he’s claiming me, deciding that I belong to him, and acting as though I have no say in the matter. It doesn’t bother me like it normally would.

Instead it just feels…right.

Belonging to Elijah feels right.

It seems impossible for Elijah to fuck me any harder than he already is but as he approaches his own orgasm, he does, his hips quickening the pace and thrusting into me so hard that if it weren’t for his strong arms holding me in place, I might be pushed right off the couch from the sheer force of his love making.

As he comes, he grips my jaw in his hand and directs my mouth to his, kissing me hard, claiming me as his.

***

It takesminutes for me to catch my breath. I’m sprawled on the couch, naked and soaking wet. I watch him, my mind still in a post-orgasm haze as he buckles his belt and wipes his mouth before going to the drink cart and bringing me back a bottle of water.

“Water,” he says, pulling me to a sitting position and handing me the bottle. “Drink.”

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