Page 9 of Christmas with Billionaire's Runaway Bride

"I'm not letting you go. Not after I've just found you."

His touch is almost melting me, but I resist. "I have to go. Someone might see us, and I'm sure you'd prefer to keep this mistake our little secret." I don’t understand why he is affecting me that much over such a period. I didn’t know him at all but the thought of him lying about his intentions cripples me.

"Stop whatever it is that is going through your head." he says.

"Tell me something. Am I the only one who can touch you without you feeling pain or there is someone else?" I ask casually not really expecting an answer.

"Well, there is one other person." he says and the moment that leaves his mouth, I feel like. I don’t show it, though I continue with that I am doing.

"Don’t be like that." he says and grabs me again, turns me around and smashes his lips into mine. I don’t respond at first but when it intensifies, I find myself hungrily sucking his face. He puts his arm under by mare butt and lifts me up so that I am straddling him. His manhood is growing fast and I can feel it poking my stomach. I position myself in a way that it is directly opposite my pussy then slowly grind onto him as if my life depends on it. I move my hips and but in a sexy way, making sure that he can feel my juices all over him. His rigidness continues growing till he can’t take it anymore. He also grinds into me and growls like an animal when my boobs jump up and down. He lays me on the bed and kisses me all over, giving my boobs all the attention they can get. He then traces his finger down to my pussy and begins rubbing it slowly and sensually, leaving the clit. As he is doing this, I try to rub myself onto him but he holds me in place, making sure to remind me who is in control. I moan out loud and he continues torturing my body till he finally reaches my clit. I feel his warm tongue there, drawing circles and slowly massaging. That is all it takes to push me over the edge. The moment he notices that I am about to orgasm, he stops and changes positions. He lays on his back and positions me on top of him. His man hood is fully erect and is adorned with bulging veins and precum. He is ready for me and wastes no time to position me on top of it.

He enters me in one motion and he gives me time to adjust myself. I ride him slowly, allowing my walls to take him fully. As time goes by, I increase my pace while fondling his balls. As i am riding, my boobs bounce up and down and that to excite him more.

"Claire..." he growls and i also moan out.

"Damn!" he manages to say as i push myself further into him and whine my waist making sure to get him in all the angles imaginable. He then holds my waist with one hand, savoring me firmly onto him while the other hand massages my boob. He also matches me with his thrusts. We get closer to the finishing line and we frantically try to taste every inch of each other. After a while, I feel my eyes rolling back into my head in pleasure but I try so hard to wait for him.

"Don’t cum baby...not until I say so." he growls and I try to put my pleasure in check.

"please Michael..." I beg when I find it difficult to do so. He thrusts into me, further and deeper as i feel his body tightening. I moan out as he does the same and hold onto him for my dear life, my body almost becoming limp.

"Cum for me baby. “he says and thrusts one more time into and I let loose. My body collapses into him all the electric currents fueled by pleasure intensifies throughout my body. I moan and hold onto him as i let orgasm ride through my body freely.

We stay there for a while then I get up when he is fast asleep. As much as I enjoyed the sex, I can’t help but he is just using me and feels nothing for me. I sneak my way through to my room and stay there for the rest of the day. I do not want to see him mainly because I know that I might be developing feelings for him while he is just using me to blow off steam.

"You're hiding from me. You know that you can't do that forever, right?" he asks, startling me. I wasn't expecting anyone to be home at that time.

"Michael, you scared me. When did you get back?" I ask, my heart racing from the sudden surprise.

"Don't do that, Claire. You've been avoiding me, why?" he asks again, his tone holding a mix of concern and frustration.

I brush off his observation. "I am doing no such thing. I've just been busy," I say, my focus on my work.

"I haven't seen you in a week. What about our therapy sessions?" he asks sternly, his persistence evident.

"Like I said, I've been busy. Can't you see that?" I reply, growing a bit irritated and wishing he would leave me alone.

"What do you mean by that? We had a deal, remember?" he says, his tone becoming more intense.

"Yes, I remember that clearly, but you're all better now. In case it doesn't register in your head, that means my work is done, doesn't it?" I ask, a sense of finality in my tone as I express my frustration with the ongoing conversation.

"Is this about the other day?" he asks, his voice softer now. I don't reply, and he leaves his wheelchair to approach me from behind.

"Listen," he begins, "I've done my part. You don't seem to trust me or feel anything for me. I've already put my friendship with Kendra in jeopardy by sleeping with you, and I don't want to keep betraying her because of it. I've managed to secure a job, so I won't be staying here once I find a place. Let's forget that anything ever happened between us, okay?" I suggest, my tone a mix of resignation and a desire to move forward.

I hope against hope that he'll reassure me that I mean more to him than just a fling, that I have some significance beyond being a woman he can touch. As I start packing my things, I wait, longing for him to express his growing feelings for me, but he doesn't. Instead, he surprises me by asking for a favor.

"Okay, I'm not going to pester you anymore. All I want is three more sessions with you, and then I'll let you go," he says. My heart aches and sinks at his words.

"Okay, whatever you say," I reply with a forced smile, the disappointment and sadness evident beneath the surface.

"That's great!" he exclaims with happiness. "We can begin now. Also, I don't want you to tell anyone about my true progress. I'll decide when to let them know that I can walk with a cane now."

"Don't worry about that," I assure him.

I quickly change into something comfortable as he does the same, and then I follow him to his training room, ready to start the session. We begin working on his upper body, but it becomes evident that completing the routine will be a challenge. As my hands make contact with his body, I notice a fiery desire burning in his eyes, intense and seemingly unquenchable.

Within a short time, he pins me to the floor and kisses me passionately. I debate in my head on whether to proceed or not but I decide to proceed. I kiss him back as our hands roam about each other’s bodies in hunger. He is using me; I might as well use him. Just when our make out session takes a different turn, I push him off of me and stands up. We both take time away from each other, trying to compose ourselves but later go back to the same compromising situation.

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