Page 7 of The Rich One

“Shower, now.” After traveling all day, I really don’t hate this idea.

I strip with slow, practiced seduction, holding his gaze before padding through to the bathroom, looking at him over my shoulder as I move. This is all part of the performance for him. He sometimes likes to clean us both before and after. All part of his control fantasy.

“Every man in that room wanted to fuck you, tonight.” Rubbing slow circles of soap over my body, he takes his time on my nipples, sliding down and pausing to squeeze my ass.

Naked, he is beautiful to look at, as if Michelangelo himself was responsible for sculpting this stunning man. Dips in all the right places, muscles glistening under the warm spray of water.

“But I’m the lucky bastard who gets to watch you come all over my dick.”

He flicks his tongue over my left nipple as his fingers delve straight into my pussy, then sucks and nips for a few minutes of torturous pleasure. Quickly removing his fingers, he gets on his knees and washes my legs and feet, keeping most of his attention nearest the tops of my thighs, rubbing along my creases and folds multiple times.

A slap on my ass is the only warning that he’s done here, as the glass door is opened and Tyler grabs a couple of fluffy white towels—for the price of this room, I think I can trust them. After first wrapping one around his waist, he pulls the other around my shoulders, and takes his time making sure I’m dry. Everywhere.

I know what he wants next, so once he’s finished, I pad through to the bedroom, drop the towel at my feet and get on all fours. A grunt Geralt fromThe Witcherwould be proud of escapes his lips as he climbs on the bed behind me. Immediately burying his face into me, his tongue flicks at my clit like it’s his last meal.

This alone could bring me to orgasm, but I hold off for just a little longer. He may be paying for it, but there’s nothing to say I can’t enjoy myself at the same time.

The addition of his fingers, curling and hitting that delicious sweet spot, sends me over the edge, and he laps up my juices like a pro before standing. With no time to get over my orgasm, I’m a little floaty as I turn my body so my face is level with his cock. Looking up at him through my lashes, I lick the underside of it and pop the tip in my mouth, flicking over the slit with my tongue and sucking the head like a strawberry lollipop.

He moans as he grabs the back of my head, always mindful that it’s a wig I’m wearing so he never pulls too hard. He guides me up and down his shaft, bottoming out and hitting the back of my throat. My eyes water as I gag on the length of him, but I breathe through my nose, ever the professional.

As he gets close, he pulls out and wipes the spit on the side of my mouth away with his thumb, before grabbing a condom from the bedside table and rolling it on.

“Turn around. Ass up.” The lust in his voice is unmistakable. He’s so close, this won’t take long at all. I hope he lasts long enough for me to have another orgasm.

I shift to rest my elbows and knees on the bed, arching my back and putting my ass on show for him. This is his favorite position. He spits onto my ass hole, rubbing it around and down over my clit, before lining himself up with my pussy. He nudges in slowly at first, gripping my hips and pulling me onto him. Once he’s fully seated, he lets out a groan of relief. A slap on my ass is the only warning I get, as he begins to thrust in and out of me like a wild animal.

“Your ass looks good with my handprint on it.” Another slap, on the other cheek this time. All things we’ve agreed were acceptable before we even had our first appointment. We both have a safe word if ever needed.

“Harder, Tyler. Fuck me harder.” I’m panting, my building orgasm better come soon, because I know he’s really close. The increasing sting on my ass says as much.

He reaches around and starts to play with my nipple, pinching and twisting, giving me just the right amount of pain with my pleasure. His other hand leaves my hip, squeezing my ass as his thumb gets closer to my ass hole. I feel him spit onto it again before he starts rubbing his thumb all over, getting it nice and wet before he puts it inside me. Again, he does this slowly, starting with the tip first. As he does this, his thrusts slow down slightly, and he’s pushing his cock so deep inside me I can feel every hard ridge.

I push myself back onto him, enticing him, seeking out more—faster. He keeps his thumb in my ass, and moves his other hand back to grab my hip, squeezing painfully as he gets frantic, even more animalistic than before, all rhythm gone.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” I don’t even need to exaggerate my screams as he pounds into me harder. He’s an exceptional lover, and for that, I’m lucky. It’s easy to make him feel like a king when he treats me like a queen and fucks me like a whore, multiple orgasms and all.

A loud grunt is my first indication he’s coming, as well as the erratic way he thrusts into me. I don’t mind though. One more of those hard pumps and the sensation of another orgasm rolls through me. Our slapping bodies slow down as we both breathe heavily, small moans of pleasure escaping our mouths.

After cleaning up, Tyler climbs back into bed, and I decide to take a minute out on the balcony to cool down and check my phones. It’s a beautiful night for sitting outside, the stars clear in the dark sky. I wish I’d paid more attention to Kai’s ramblings about the constellations when we were younger, but I was too busy basking in the sound of his voice and the warmth of him beside me as we lay under the stars.

I’ve got several messages on my work phone that are easily dealt with, so I go through those first. Once I’m finished, I pick up my personal phone, hoping to clear my mind with some mind-numbing, world building game. I have a whole land of dragons I’ve been growing for the last six months. I lose all sense of time as I play, but the flashing message icon makes me pause. There are only a few people who have this number, and I’m not expecting to hear from any of them this weekend.

I open my messages, curious, and my fingers freeze. My breath seizes for half a second as I read the unexpected words.

“Oh shit.”

CHAPTERFOUR

“Is everything all right?” My breath catches at the sound of Tyler’s voice so close behind me. Spinning around like a kid caught stealing the last of the candy in the cupboard, I slam a hand to my heart and force a smile on my lips. No need to alarm the billionaire client.

“Oh crap, you scared me!” I take in his mussed brown hair and lean frame as one hand scratches the back of his head. For the first time, he doesn’t exude the potent vibe of the owner of half the state. Possibly the country. No, for the first time, I see the man. The mere mortal who has woken up a little disoriented. It’s gone quickly enough, like a wall building right before my eyes.

“Light sleeper,” is all he says as he steps closer, dark chocolate eyes roaming my body, my face, and then landing on my lips for a second too long. “What are you doing out here?” His voice sounds distracted. It’s then I realize, his gaze is locked on my hair.

“Light sleeper.” I use his own words on him and grace him with a genuine smile. His hand reaches out to touch me and I fight the urge to flinch. Not a lot of people know what my true hair looks like. Mostly because I’m always in character with my clients. Besides going out for some nearby shopping within a three or four block area, the only place I ever go without a wig is Staten Island to see my brother and Petal. But I trust Tyler to a certain extent and—as much as I am capable—because I know he has even more to lose than I do.

“Touché.” Toying with some errant strands that fall across one of my eyes, I watch him as his gaze follows the movement of his fingers. “I forgot that your hair is so dark and short. I’m so used to seeing you with the long red hair that it takes a minute to remember.” There’s something so vulnerable about him right now. Wistful. Like he’s standing here but his mind is years away. “I like it. Short, I mean. It suits you, you know? It says you’re strong and resilient.” I smile because what else am I supposed to do? This type of conversation makes me uncomfortable. He’s my client, I don’t want to get to know him or receive compliments when no one else is around. Secretly though, I welcome his praise.

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