Page 40 of The Rich One

I want to tell him that she didn’t deserve him, never did. He’s a kind, attentive man who works hard to provide for his family, and she was a selfish bitch who, instead of speaking with him, decided she wanted to fuck his best friend.

Oh, how that story sounds familiar to me.

My attention is back on him as my strapless bra is ripped right off my body in one strong pull from his fingers. What’s left of it thrown to the side, landing on the back of the couch.

Both of his hands are cupping my tits, his thumbs rubbing circles over my nipples before he leans in and sucks one into his mouth, then the other. I gasp at the warm feel, and the tinge of pain as his teeth graze the tender skin shoots a jolt of pleasure through my body before he releases me, exposing my wet flesh to the ambient temperature.

It’s warm in his penthouse, but his mouth is scorching hot.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” The number of different answers to that question are too many to count.

A whore.

A lost soul.

A heartless business woman.

When I don’t answer—I’m pretty sure his question was rhetorical anyway—he continues, shocking me with his revelation.

“A smart, beautiful woman who has so much to give but refuses to see herself as anything other than what she pretends to be.” I’m frozen in surprise. Why would he say that?

I don’t have time to deny or argue or any of the hundreds of things I should have said to him because he’s suddenly on his knees, unfastening the garters—they’re just for show anyway—and sliding them down along with my silk panties. I’m left in only my stockings and heels as he sweeps me up in his arms and walks me to his bedroom, like we’re newlyweds fucking for the first time after exchanging vows.

Everything about this is strange, unfamiliar. Where’s the dominant sex god? Where are the restraints and the butt plugs? Where are his salacious orders?

Depositing me on his huge four-poster bed, he stands at the foot of it and begins undressing. Everything he does is infuriatingly slow. He removes one piece of clothing at a time, all the while watching me with his hungry gaze. The tie is first, sliding off from around his neck and dropping to the bench. Then he pops each of the buttons on his shirt, one after the other, until his hard, defined chest is exposed to my sight. Shrugging off the fabric, he places it next to his tie and starts unfastening his dress pants. The button, then the zipper, until they fall down the length of his long, powerful legs.

He’s commando, of course. He always is, it seems.

The spring of his thick cock greets me like an angry soldier ready for battle. It reaches the line of his navel, precum already beading at the slope of its head like a beacon to my mouth.

Without a conscious thought, I lick my lips like I’m starving for him, for his cock, for the feeling of control while I suck him down my throat. I’m thankful when his gaze zeroes in on my movement and understanding shines in his eyes.

“You hungry for my dick, Rose? You want me to fuck your face like a good little girl?” Goddamn, I’m a sucker for dirty talk.

I don’t answer with words, instead I scramble to a sitting position before sliding down to my knees, mouth open wide, hands on my thighs, and wait for him to feed me.

His top teeth sink into his bottom lip and I swear I can practically feel the excitement rolling off his body. One hand is now at his cock, stroking, pulling, thumb gliding across his precum as he watches me watching him.

“You are fucking perfect.” With one step, he’s erased the remaining space between us as his hand flies to the nape of my neck and his thumb pushes hard into the junction at my jaw, ordering me to open wider.

I do as I’m told and with our eyes boring into each other, he thrusts his cock into my mouth. Tyler grunts as I take him in and suck him deep to the back of my throat, humming when I feel him reach my gag reflex. I know how to do this, I’ve had enough practice to manage any size or depth.

I’ve also learned that clients love to feel powerful while their dicks are buried in a woman’s willing mouth, especially if they are capable of making them cry from the act. I’m not pretending with Tyler. His cock is long and thick and impossible to swallow whole but he’s a man like any other. When the head of his dick bumps against my throat, demanding I open up for him, I feel my gag tears well-up and slide down my cheeks.

The look of utter satisfaction on his face is fucking priceless. He’s proud of me. Of himself. Of this. He’s fucking turned on watching my body react to his thrusting.

“You’re fucking gorgeous with my dick filling your mouth, you know that?” He pulls out and grabs at my nape as he slams back inside me, going impossibly deeper, making my tears fall faster. “Your tears are fucking beautiful, smearing your make-up and making you all dirty for me.” Jesus fuck, I’m so turned on right now I have to squeeze my thighs to avoid slapping my hand to my clit and getting myself off.

Tyler’s eyes dart from my gaze to my mouth and back again, his hips accelerating, his grip tightening. It’s like he’s possessed; his body tense, his jaw clenched as he fucks my mouth in and out. In and out. My tears falling, his dick pistoning until he stops it all and lifts me to my feet. Suddenly, his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me with a violence I’ve never felt from him before. Like he’s communicating unsaid words he’s never confessed before.

Like he’s telling me secrets I don’t want to hear.

Our mouths dance frantically, our tongues dueling, teeth clashing, and I’m suddenly in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist as my heels fall to the floor—one then the other. It’s only when I’m on his mattress that he reaches up to the night stand and, mere seconds later, sheathes himself with a condom and slides inside me.

I’m so fucking wet for him, there’s no resistance. No need to get used to him.

In our frenzy, I expect him to fuck me hard and fast, making us both come in mere minutes. But Tyler surprises the fuck out of me when he slows down, almost to a full stop. Balancing his weight on his forearms, he cages me in, looking at me as he leisurely pushes in and out of my all-too-greedy pussy.

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