Page 14 of Billionaire Romance

“Do you like it when I pull your hair? Fuck you like this, against a wall?” I grunt.

I watch my dick disappear inside her, noticing how it glistens with her juices each time I pull out, enjoying the sound of my balls slapping against her ass when I dive back in. I can smell her, everywhere. I change my angle so I can penetrate her deeper, and her grunts turn into a low keening.

“Like that?” I ask, angling deeper and deeper, hitting her again and again where she needs it most.

“Don’t stop. There,” she demands.

Her hand leaves mine and reaches between her legs, and I see her start to rub her clit, a frenzied motion that makes her pussy clench down harder on me. As much as I love to be in charge, to dominate her, the sight of her masturbating while I fuck her has me transfixed. I pull her hair backwards so I can watch her face. Her lips are parted and her teeth are clenched. I press my lips against hers so we share breath, and I grunt out, “Come on my dick. I want to feel you explode.”

I cover her hand with mine, feeling her fingers work faster and faster, and then suddenly her body shakes, she lets out a moan that fills the alley and I feel her body go slack in my arms. I can feel the waves of her orgasm rocking through her, and her pussy is flooded with her arousal. It’s enough to push me toward my release, and just as I feel my orgasm growing and warmth traveling up my spine, I pull out, stroking my cock as spurts of cum coat her ass. I jump when I run the head through the mess I’ve left on her.

We stand there like that, catching our breath, holding each other, until a siren sounds in the distance. As if waking us up from a dream at the same time, we straighten. I use her panties to wipe up her ass, tucking them back in my pocket. I’m not done with them. Weaver straightens her top, so her breasts are covered and her skirt is down. I imagine the stickiness between her legs and my cock reacts in my boxers.

Once we’re decent, we stand there, staring at each other. She looks almost shy. Impossibly I’m still horny, I still want to fuck her, taste her pussy on my tongue, but Weaver deserves some explanations, and I have no doubt we won’t be having a repeat performance. Soon.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Weaver?” I ask, going for what seems like the most normal, everyday question a guy could ask a girl.

Relief seems to break across her face, and she scrutinizes mine for a second.

“Throw in some fries and it’s a date,” she says.

“Let’s go.” I extend my hand to her and she takes it. We walk down the alley out to 14th street.

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