Page 68 of Billionaire Romance

9

Sally

Oh my God. Oh my God.

This isn’t where I thought dinner would go, but I’m not angry. I’m excited. Deep in my gut I have a thrill that I can’t explain and I’m so turned on that I’m pretty sure I’m currently ruining my underwear.

Our waiter comes over, and I watch as he completes our bill as fast as humanly possible. Poor guy, we've been a really untraditional table. But I see the amount that Eric writes down on the receipt for a tip and I know that he'll be just fine. Hell, with that amount he probably just got an extra week’s worth of pay. God, what it must be like to be rich enough to do that.

Eric stands and holds out his hand, and I take it. Fuck, I cannot believe I'm actually going to do this. I can't believe that I told him that I want to do this and that he listened. We make our way out past the hostess and we're moving too quickly for her to say thank you to us properly. Eric is rushing, and when he pulls me in front of him as we step out of the door into the flash of cameras, I realize why. He's hard, and he doesn't want people to see. Well, that at least I can understand, and there's a smug bit of satisfaction settling in my chest that he's at least as turned on as I am.

We're in the car in a flash, and he hands the driver some bills through the divider. "Take us around the block and go for a coffee break. Take your time."

"Yes, Sir." I can't help but wonder how many times that's happened to this driver. If people regularly ask for privacy. Eric slides up the divider, and the silence of the car envelops us. Eric pulls me against him. His hands are rough and gentle at once in an oxymoron that doesn't make sense but sets me on fire. God, everything about this is good. Feels good. I want him, and finally, finally, someone wants me. When I pull back I'm gasping. "You're going to have to tell me what to do," I say, breathless and tingling with anticipation. If I can make him feel as good he made me feel last night, this will be a victory. Hell, half as good would be a victory.

"I need to ask you one more time," he says. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." There's no hesitation, I want to taste him. I want to be able to know that I've done this and that I can give someone pleasure. I want to hear what sounds he'll make when my mouth is on him. I've seen porn, I've got the general idea, but I think the reality of it is going to be different.

"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Then you're going to need to be on your knees."

The car stops, and we lurch a little. I hear the driver's side door open and close, and Eric pushes down the locks. The windows are so dark that they're almost opaque, and we're caught in our own little private world for as long as we like. On my knees, he said. I shiver, because getting down on the floor of this car feels significant. I don't think you're supposed to kneel in a ball gown, but I do it, spreading the skirt out around me so I'm in a pool of crimson silk.

Eric opens his jacket and then his hands reach his pants, and I'm suddenly focused on his cock, because it's right there. I can see the outline of it through his pants, huge and hard and totally ready. He unbuttons the pants, and moves them aside, and slowly pulls himself free. God, that's real. I didn't lie to him, I've never seen one in real life, and I think his was a pretty damn good one to start with.

For starters, he’s big. I know enough about sex to know that not all men are blessed like this. It's jutting straight up from his body, and my mouth starts to water. I'm going to put my mouth on that. I'm going to make him feel good. But I'm not sure I completely know how. I stand up higher on my knees and reach for him, touching softly. His cock jerks in my hand, and a muffled sound comes from Eric's throat. "That feels good," he says. "You're going to make me come just touching."

I smirk at him. "That's not what we signed up for, but you're still going to have to guide me. I want you to love this. Tell me what you want."

Eric's eyes go dark with lust, and he takes a breath. "Start slowly, and start with your tongue," he says. "Lick me."

"Where?"

"Everywhere. Treat my cock like it's the best tasting lollipop that you've ever put in your mouth." His voice has gone rough and raw and my stomach clenches, heat and need rippling through me in a wave. I ignore the shimmering nerves in my gut, and I lean forward and touch him with my tongue. Just on the tip, to break the barrier. He tastes like salt, and not at all bad, as I’ve been sometimes been warned.

A lollipop. I move my tongue down to the side and stroke up, with just the tip of my tongue. And then I do it again, moving to a slightly different spot. And again. “Good,” he says, the word long and drawn out.

I read something once in a magazine about the nerves in a man, and how they’re concentrated under the tip. That’s something to try. I shorten the stroke of my tongue to just under the head of his cock, to see how he reacts, and I see his hands ball into fists and he blows out a sharp breath. Good. I have to catch myself because I realize that I’ve stopped to smile.

Doing exactly what he said, I lick all of him. Every inch that I can reach from the base to the tip and I’m working my way back down when he speaks again. “Put me in your mouth.” The blunt instruction falls through me, and I obey, taking the tip of him in and feeling the deeper taste of him on my tongue.

Eric reaches out and weaves his fingers into my hair, fingers tightening, and he guides me down. He’s so big that he’s stretching my mouth, and I know that there’s no way that I’ll be able to take all of him. But I take as much as I can.

The sound he makes sends arousal sinking into my bones. “Suck my cock,” he says. And I do, using my mouth, I suck, and this is where some of my instinct kicks in. I’ve seen enough to know that there’s a rhythm, and I move my mouth up, sucking him to the tip and sinking down again.

His hands are strong in my hair, and he slowly urges me faster. “Use your mouth to fuck me.” And then he slows down, tugs on my hair so that I look up at him, my mouth still full of his cock. “You are very good at this, Sally. I don’t want you to stop until I come, and there’s nowhere else in this car my cum can go except down your throat. Do you understand?”

I nod, and he leans a little closer, grip tightening just a little more. “I want you to worship my cock with your mouth.”

His voice is unflinching and commanding, there’s no question that I’ll obey. Even if he weren't telling me to, I want this. I dive down onto him with my mouth, taking as much as I can and setting up a rhythm of up and down and up and down, making sure that I’m sucking him deeply.

I pause and go back to the lollipop method, enjoying the way he hisses a breath, and the way he jerks under my tongue. I look up at him, stroking him with long, slow licks and watch as his eyes turn to molten fire. I could watch that look on his face forever.

And I go back to the rhythm. This time he helps, changing my movement slightly from an even beat to a wave, fast going down, slower moving up, the motion dragging his skin across my tongue and I glance up to see his eyes closed and his lips parted. Suddenly his hips are thrusting up to meet my mouth, and he guides me faster, half letting me suck him, half fucking me.

Eric’s breath is shallow, and he moans as he pushes deeper towards my throat. “I’m going to come,” he says, voice dark and rough.

He holds my head still, his last thrust deep and hard, and he groans as heat and salt explodes in my mouth. It’s a flood, and I try to swallow it, quickly as I can. It tastes like him, like his cock but richer and creamy and not at all like I expected. Another burst of it comes, and another, and I drink him in.

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