Page 59 of The Damaged Billionaire

I see him looking around, and I realize that he is looking for a condom.

“Tenn… we could go bare…” I suggest, wanting to feel all of him now. He looks at me with slightly widened eyes, pausing his movements.

“I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone else but you for a very long time, and well, we have already established that there are no babies coming either,” I add, raising my eyebrows.

“I'm clean. You saw my medical records. I’ve never had sex without a condom, Willow,” he states with so much conviction, I have no doubt. All I can do is nod because I did see his health check. As part of his paternity requirements, he had to give over a DNA sample but also had a full sexual health exam at the same time.

“Fuck, Willow, I have never been bare before,” he says, crawling over me, smiling. I can feel his anticipation building.

“Okay, well, then all you need to do is make me scream,” I tease, and he smiles.

“Challenge accepted,” he says at the same time he slams into me. I hang on to his shoulders, because he wasn’t lying, his pace is frantic. His thrusts are fast, hitting my clit with every quick movement, the feeling running through me instantaneously as my hands claw at his body.

“Fuck, this feels fucking amazing,” he moans, lost in the new sensation.

“Oh my God…” I feel him giving me every emotion. Every stress, every bit of tension, every feeling that he has inside, he is giving to me. He is powerful, his desire for me intense, and it is all I can do to hang on for the ride.

“I need you… I need this,” he grits out and pulls out quickly, sitting back on his knees and grabbing my hip. Turning me over in one sweep, so I’m face down, he grabs my hips and lifts them up, pushing into me from behind.

“Ohhhh, Tenn…” I whimper, the sensation new. His pace continues, his hands squeezing my hips, and I feel him deep, taking and giving all at the same time.

“You feel so fucking good, so fucking good, Willow,” he moans as my fingers grip the bedsheets, and I curl them around my hands, struggling to hang on, the pleasure overwhelming. We are not cementing our feelings. We are engraving them on each other.

“Come here, baby.” He changes our position again. Pulling me up, sitting me on his lap, my back still to his chest. His hand lowers to my clit, his finger circling, matching the pace of his thrusts, sweat now covering both of us, the slap of our skin traveling around my room.

“Tenn…” I cry out like a woman possessed, never having felt anything like this before. He has total control over my body, and he knows exactly what to do with it. I lean my head back on his shoulder, my arms up and around his neck. He buries his head into my neck, sucking my skin as his fingers continue to circle, the other hand molding to my breast.

“This feels so fucking good. I am never fucking you with a condom again. So good, baby, such a good fucking pussy you have,” he whispers in my ear, and his words send me over the cliff.

“Tenn!” I scream. “Tenn… Tenn… Tennn!” I’m panting to catch my breath, my orgasm feeling like it comes over and over, one after another, after another. His hold on me tightens as his hands move to my hips, him bouncing me on top of him, and then I hear him roar.

“Fuckkk, Willow…” My name leaves his mouth on a yell, as I feel him pulse inside me, his orgasm just as intense as mine, before we both fall onto my bed in a tangled mess.

We are still for a beat, trying to catch our breath. Tears prick my eyes at how intense that was, how connected we felt, how amazing we are together, before I look at him and smile.

“Now that’s what I call a welcome home, Cupcake.”

* * *

It is dark outside, and Tennyson and I have hardly moved, apart from a very quick shower and when I ran downstairs to grab the cheesecake and two forks. We are now perched in my bed, the cake almost half-eaten between us. Both still naked, we have talked for hours about everything.

“So how was your trip?” I ask, our conversation only now just getting to the last few days.

“Singapore is done,” he says, a small smile dancing on his lips.

“Congratulations! That is awesome. I’m so proud of you.” But from the look on his face, I can tell there is more.

“I stopped in Indonesia on the way back.” My brow crumples in confusion.

“It is where Nanny Helen was from. I went to see her village,” he offers, and now I am intrigued. He has talked about his nanny a few times, and I know they were close, but it feels like there is something that is not settled within him about her. I just don’t know what it is.

“Tell me more about Nanny Helen,” I encourage, feeling full, but taking another small scrap of cheesecake on my fork. I just can’t stop eating it, it is so delicious.

“She came to our house when I was a baby. From an agency originally, I think. She was with me from just after I was born until she died when I was twelve,” he says, looking off into the distance, lost in his memories.

“When she first came, she barely spoke English, but she came to the United States to make money to send back to her family. We had a small cottage at the back of our place where she lived. I was her life, and she was mine.” I have noticed that he talks about her a lot. Now with the faraway look in his eyes, his demeanor changes, and he looks almost sad.

“Did you speak to her family? Friends?” I ask, hoping that they are all well.

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