Page 82 of Screwged for Christmas

Emboldened by his words and the truth I feel soul-deep, I give myself permission to believe for the first time in a long time in another human being.

My head spins with the possibilities in his dark, powerful gaze. His chest heaves with the emotion I feel pouring off him.

I lean in next to his ear. “Yes, sir.”

I don’t know what drove me to say it, but those two little words create a firestorm.

I came here as the good girl wanting to seek justice and fight for my future since I knew no one else would do it for me. But I know in that instant I’m not leaving here as an innocent woman.

The dark, dangerous and ever so protective older man catches my eye as I take in his massive cock through his tuxedo pants that have to cost a fortune. He runs a hand down the huge length and I’m practically cumming in the middle of his library.

I’ve awakened something in him and I shiver from the decadent promises hidden beneath his hooded gaze.

He turns to the door and slips the lock in place and it’s only a matter of a few seconds before he’s kneeling in front of me, hands wrapped around my waist.

He leans in and presses soft kisses along my lower abdomen. I’m so absorbed in the feel of his tongue and lips on my skin I don’t notice when he slips the zipper to my costume down until the scrap of cloth is puddl around my feet.

That leaves me in nothing more than my silk thong and thong.

Did I say wet? I meant drenched. There’s not a spot on my panties that isn’t wet and I know he sees what he does to my body. His nostrils flare and I move to press my legs together.

He stops me by pushing himself between my thighs which spreads my legs wider for him.

“Remember what I said. Never hide any part of you from me. I want all of you. There’s nothing to be shy about, angel. Your excitement for me drives me wild and I love seeing that virgin pussy wet for me.”

He slips a finger inside the wet slit of cloth and peels it away from my soft, pouty pussy lips. There’s not a question of if he’ll make me cum for him—it’s only a matter of time.

My knees shake the second he strokes the callused tip of his finger between my sticky, wet lips.

God, was it possible to cum on contact? Because I think I’m close. The fire he’s stoked inside me from the second I walked into this library has only grown. One more touch and the delicate seams holding my release and me together will give and I would be orgasming all over his fingers and tongue.

He leans back on his heels and licks off every drop of girl-cum from each finger with such a deep, masculine groan I ache to feel his body pressing against me as he expresses his pleasure, to feel the rumbling quake of his chest against mine.

Part of me wants to tell him I really didn’t record our earlier conversation. However, that part about texting my uncle to shove it was true. A feeling in the pit of my stomach is telling me I shouldn’t refuse to play into his games, but too late.

I can’t pull enough courage together to break the wonderful spell that has befallen me. What if I wake up? What if he realizes he doesn’t want a junkie’s daughter? Or worse, what if he’s only seducing me to keep me from hitting send on the supposed recording?

With both hands on either thigh, he leans in and runs his tongue over my drenched panties and stops when he finds my clit through the thin cloth. I have never felt something so erotic and it sends a flurry of heat through my veins. He presses and circles the sensitive bud hidden between my lips with the tip of his tongue, and I can’t take the torture anymore. Or the sight of this powerful billionaire on his knees pleasuringme.

Me.

Never in a million years did I ever see this coming.

I always saw it as the woman on her knees, but as I take in this bold, demanding man I can’t help but think of how beautiful he looks with my juices running down his chin. And how much I want to lick his lips.

I slip one finger and then the next into the band of my thong and move to pull the offending material down my thighs so I can feel all the sinful dirty things he wants to do to me.

He skims his large hands over my thighs and stops my movements as I try to move them past my knees.

“Naughty girl.” He takes both my hands in one of his and doesn’t let go.

“I need to feel you,” I half whisper, half groan.

He nips my soft lips before he moves the offending silk back into place over my aching pussy, his hot breaths putting me past simply aroused and firmly into lust-dazed. I always wondered what it would be like to have a real man touch me and now I know I’ll never look at boys my age the same way,ifever again.

I gasp and jump as he pulls the string of my thong through the crack of my ass. To counter the tight, delicious pleasure, he strokes a finger through my juices and swirls it around my clit, sending a thrill through my body.

“I’m going to show you the real pleasure a man can give his woman. Show me, baby girl. Show me what’s going to be mine. I want to see all of you. Turn in place for me.”

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