The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Read online

  Yeah, a guy who’s touched so many pussies that it’s second nature, has actually upped his game. Because Grayson knows what I like now, exactly how I like it. He knows to bury his tongue up deep in my snatch, almost hitting my cervix, before pulling out and laving my clit. He knows that I like getting my pretty nub alternately licked and sucked, his mouth like a dedicated vacuum doing its work.

  And as if on cue, I burst. My pussy shattered in a million tremors, juicing wetly, pouring rivulets of sweet cream.

  “Unnnh Daddy!” I cried out, cheek pressed against the mattress as my hands scrabbled at the sheets. “Unnnh!”

  Gray moaned appreciatively into my streaming cunt.

  “Fuck yeah baby girl,” he ground out. “Get Daddy’s face wet, get it fucking drenched.”

  But then the alpha did something unexpected. Because instead of drinking hungrily and letting my nectar gush down his throat, he pulled away quickly and shoved a dildo into me.

  “Unnnnh,” I ground out, savoring the deep plunge. My cunt gripped that plastic like a hungry dog, spasming furiously. “Unnnh, unnh, feels so good.”

  Gray laughed darkly behind me, pushing and pulling the thick toy between my plush folds.

  “That’s right, get it wet for Daddy,” he ground out. “Daddy’s wetting his fake dick in your slutty cunt.”

  I moaned again, breathing hard and sighing. Because sometimes we do this. Sometimes he pushes a fat dildo up into my puss, juicing it up, getting it slick and gooey. And then yeah, I stick it up his butt.

  Is that bad? Is it back to fuck an alpha male in his ass? I don’t know, but what I do know is that there’s something incredible about seeing a man as powerful and virile as Gray with a huge toy stuck in his back hole. It’s amazing to see those sculpted shoulders shaking with lust, the heavily muscled back and tense tree trunk thighs held tight as I slowly push a juicy toy into his anus.

  And this is what life is like for us now. We’re on an even plane now, it’s not so much alpha billionaire and young, penniless girl anymore. Our relationship has evolved so that believe or not, I call some of the shots now. I’m in charge, and it’s a nice feeling. It shakes things up, letting us alternate between master / commander and sweetly willing sub.

  But tonight, Gray had a different kind of play in mind. Because as I turned to look at him over a shoulder, my eyes flew open.

  “Daddy,” I gasped, “What is that? What’s going on?”

  He chuckled deep in his throat.

  “This honey, is a strap-on. I just fucked you with the dick part.”

  Of course I knew that. The huge plastic cock was buried in my pussy at the moment, stretching me out, cunt still creaming. But I could also see that this dick was attached to a contrapment of sorts, with lots of black straps and buckles.

  “But what?” I managed to breathe. “Ummm!”

  The fat cock felt so good, and Gray was still pumping it in and out slowly.

  “Because baby, you’re gonna use it on me. You’re gonna peg Daddy today, pushing this big dildo up my ass.”

  My eyes flew open.

  “Really?” I breathed. “Like a man does to a woman?”

  That dark grin flashed, eyes hot.

  “Absolutely, baby girl. Now up, let’s get this thing on you.”

  And with a disgusting squelching sound, he pulled the toy from my pussy. It was so fucking nasty, reappearing between my legs, flesh-colored and dripping wet, totally soaked through.

  “Oh yeah,” rumbled Daddy approvingly, staring at the toy. “Oh fuck yeah, getting it lubed up in your puss was definitely the right way to go. Now let me help you put it on, sweet thing.”

  And with that, a few snaps here and there, a tug and a pull, it was on me. I gasped, looking between my legs. The black straps fastened around my waist and between my legs so that the dildo protruded from my pussy like a real dick, like I was a man with a pulsing, glistening cock.

  “Are you sure Daddy?” I murmured softly. My small hand reached out to play with the tip, drawing slowly along one of the bulging veins. “Are you sure you can take it?”

  And Gray is one nasty motherfucker because he grunted, blue eyes flashing hungrily.

  “There’s only one way to see, pretty girl, and that’s to try.”

  Without further ado, he got onto his hands and knees, that huge masculine body virile, bursting with toned, tanned muscle, dick so hard it leaked onto the bedspread. But most of all, there was that asshole. There was that brown pucker, tiny and tight, beckoning between his ass cheeks.

  And I went for it. Kneeling in back of the big man, I began my penetration, letting the dicktip kiss his brown star.

  “Umph,” he grunted hoarsely, head dropping between those massive shoulders. “Ummph, ummph.”

  Oh god, this was so fucking wrong. I was wearing a strap-on, in bed with the man of my dreams. And he was letting me fuck his ass with the toy, breaching that tiny, private space.

  But this is us. Gray and I are on the same wavelength, and again, our relationship has matured so that we take turns being the leader. And in this particular instance, I’m the spearhead. I’m the one who’s in charge, paving the way, showing him a good time.

  So leaning forward, I stroked one small hand up that broad back.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Daddy-O,” I mewled coyly. “Let your ass relax and baby will take over.”

  Fuck, it was so arousing to see the billionaire huge and powerful, crouched over as I owned his tight pleats. But yeah, it was happening and with a deep inhale, Gray relaxed.

  “Do it,” he ground out, still commanding. “Do it.”

  And with that, I pushed my hips forward, the giant toy shaft sliding into Daddy’s butt all the way. It was fucking obscene, his tight anal ring gripping the pink plastic toy, so stretched and pummeled, the big man panting from strain.

  “Unnnh,” he breathed heavily, big body jerking involuntarily. “Unnh, fuck.”

  “Oh god,” I giggled. “Daddy you’re so good at it, it went in on one stroke. Daddy you’re so good.”

  And Gray grunted then.

  “You know it baby girl, you know it. Fuck that ass good, do it sweet thing,” he ground out.

  I giggled again, stroking that massive bronze body, savoring the feel of heavy muscle.

  “Will do,” I mewled. “Just like you ordered, Mr. Channing.”

  And going to town, I drilled my man’s tiny asshole, making the alpha grunt and come like a hurricane.

  So yeah, I started out as a lowly cocktail waitress at the Milano, a Cinderella with nothing to her name. There were no evil stepsisters, and no evil stepmother because in fact, my mother in law is a dream. Rhonda has been kind and then some because she, more than anyone else, knows what Gray is like. Her son is amazing, confident and assured, with a wild side that drives me nuts.

  And yes, Grayson Channing is my Prince Charming. The billionaire alpha has made it possible for me to continue going to school, to get an internship at the Milano, and to finish my studies in Hotel Management. It helps to be married to the CEO of a hotel, and I’ve been lucky that way. But even more, I’ve been lucky to meet my match, a man so domineering, confident and assured, that he’s able to hand me the reins on occasion. He’s able to let the woman in his life take the steering wheel, and today, that happened.

  “FUUUUCK!” Gray roared, eyes flying open as I banged him again in the butt, big dick jerking. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

  I cooed once more.

  “Don’t worry Daddy, your kitten’s got it covered,” came my purr.

  And of course, I meant every word of it. Because we’re a pair, we take care of each other, and there’s no other way to live life. Grayson Channing is mine, and I’m his … in all ways, together and forever, until death do us part.

  THE END

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  The Wicked Virgin

  An Office Romance

  (Erotic Romance)

  © 2016

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest illicit romance? Addicted to virgins and alpha males? Join my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/cgt2DD and get a FREE BOOK unavailable elsewhere!

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Tammy’s got a drawer full of s*x toys at work. Guess what happens when her billionaire boss finds out?

  Nick Martin was the ultimate alpha male. He was a billionaire CEO, handsome as sin and dirty as all get out while I was just a lowly typist in the company pool. But when Mr. Martin found my secret drawer …

  I was screwed …

  In more ways than one …

  Twisted around and bent over …

  And all I could say is, “Mr. Boss Man, do I get a RAISE now?”

  Note: This is an office romance between a lowly intern and an alpha billionaire. Realistic? Heck, no! But give in to your wildest fantasies and come on board for the ride!

  DEDICATION

  For all the wicked ladies out there …

  Turn those fantasies into a reality!

  PROLOGUE

  Nick

  I strode through the basement of the luxury office building, my long legs eating up the hall. It was deserted, the hum of machines vibrating, the clank of an elevator switching into gear. But a low moan reached my ears before sliding into a high-pitched whine, punctuated by a breathy, muted gasp. What the fuck?

  My steps slowed until I was standing in front of the women’s restroom. Another gasp rang out, followed by a shriek and then a full-on scream of ecstasy, the walls of the restroom turning the place into an echo chamber. By now my dick was ramrod straight and I pushed the door open, sure I was going to catch some couple in flagrante, fucking each other up against the wall.

  But instead there was only one woman in the restroom. Or a girl, more accurately, with her skirt hitched up, panties discarded, one heel high up on the counter so that her bare snatch glistened under the restroom lights. God, I’d never seen such a beautiful cunt before. It was pink, puffy, running wetly, cream trailing down her thighs all the way to her ankle, a wet spot pooling on the tile.

  And the girl was playing with herself.

  One hand held her snatch open so that her clit was on view, the hard nub pulsing, throbbing with pleasure as she traced a delicate finger in circles around the bud. Her snatch jerked again and more cream worked itself out, spilling wetly from her hole.

  But the brunette just kept teasing, moaning deep in her throat, throwing her head back with no idea that she had a witness. Her big boobs heaved and swayed as she continued to finger, this time hitching the skirt up even higher so that her ass was bared.

  And I watched, dick on fire, as her other hand circled in back to her butt, tickling her cheeks, wandering into that deep crack, a musty crevice that I could smell even from my position by the door. I took a deep breath, there’s nothing like the scent of mixed pussy cream and back hole, I fucking love it and my dick was about to explode from the excitement.

  And the brunette didn’t let me down. As her finger in front played with her hole, a finger in back touched her little pucker, her anus contracting sharply with shock.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned, her head lolling on her shoulders, lips parted. “Ohhhh.”

  But the girl kept going, dipping her fingers into her rear end and twat, sampling both places at once, letting her wet flesh grip the soft penetration, lightly brushing, teasing herself.

  But this was no innocent. Like a whore, she threw her head back and screamed lustily, her pussy and ass twitching and jerking as orgasm surged, boobs swaying this way and that, nipples hard, cunt ejecting pussy cream as she came over and over again.

  I watched, mesmerized, as she fucked herself, that pussy spasming, her finger caught in a volcano as her ass clenched as if possessed, another digit trapped in molten fire.

  And when it was over, my dirty little girl let out a long wail, her moans loud enough to shake my eardrums, resonating in the public restroom.

  But public be damned. I own this building and I’d just seen something I wanted on premises.

  So I made my move then, the door snicking shut behind me.

  “I’m Nick Martin, CEO of Luxor,” I growled, pulling out my stiff shaft, the head dripping wetly onto the cold tile. “You must work for me. You are …?”

  The girl gasped then, cheeks flushing as she spun to face me, curls flying, cunt still slickly wet. But it was too late because as my employee the brunette was about to get a new responsibility added to her job description. And I was going to teach her every step of the way …

  CHAPTER ONE

  Tammy

  Have you ever been wicked?

  Just a teensie weensie little bit wicked?

  And did it feel good?

  This is the story of how I went from innocent intern to … well, something a lot less innocent.

  The day began as usual. My alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I rolled out of bed, groaning. But I couldn’t afford not to get up. Literally, I couldn’t afford it because it’s my job at Luxor Corporation that pays my rent, my tuition, my clothes, food, books, everything.

  So I struggled out of the sheets and reached for clothes I’d set out the night before. Hopping up and down a bit, I yanked the pencil skirt over my hips, grunting slightly, aghast at the tight fit. When had it gotten so small? Had the dry cleaners ruined my favorite little black number? Damn it, tears filled my eyes because I had no money and the skirt would be expensive to replace.

  But in the back of my mind, I knew the truth. It wasn’t the dry cleaners, it’s me. I’m a curvy girl, the kind with generous boobs, wide hips, and a round, juicy ass. I’ve always been bigger, so to say, and it’s always a challenge to find clothes, especially work clothes that fit my Jessica Rabbit proportions.

  So sighing, I shook my head, there wasn’t much I could do about it right now. Making sure I looked presentable with one last desperate tug at my skirt, a little shimmy of my hips, I grabbed my bag and raced out the door. The 301 bus comes only once an hour, so if I wanted to make my ride it’d be a hustle. It’s a solid hour commute each way and I planned on doing a little reading on the ride, maybe try to study up on organic chemistry.

  Because in addition to my full time job, I’m also a student at Hudson University. It’s a tough load to juggle but I don’t really have a choice. In fact, I’m only in college thanks to a wonderful guidance counselor, Ms. Lincoln, who encouraged me to apply, told me I had the grades and grit to make it. So with a trembling hand, I’d filled out the zillion forms, not expecting much, and was genuinely surprised when a fat envelope arrived in the mail.

  Tearing open the FedEx package, I’d gasped and colored, suffused with happiness. They liked me! I was in! A letter from the Dean himself stating, “Hudson University is happy to offer you admission …”

  But that’s when the fairy tale ended. Because right behind the admission letter was my financial aid offer, and my eyes immediately started welling up when I saw the number. Had they missed a zero? Or maybe there was a typo, this couldn’t be right. But there’d been no mistake, it was my name and social security number at the top. Hudson was “pleased” to offer me five thousand dollars of grant money per year, renewable for four years.

  But that was the problem. Five thousand was a pittance, a mere drop in the bucket. Tuition is FIFTY-five thousand per year. So by the end of year four, I’d be two hundred thousand dollars in the hole if and when I graduated.

  But Ms. Lincoln hadn’t been wrong when she said I was full of grit and determination. I put a resume up on Monster and started applying furiously, throwing myself at any and every job although at seventeen, I didn’t have much experience except for a past stint flipping burgers and some random babysitting gigs.

  But the stars aligned in my favor and I was called in for an interview with Luxor Corporation, a real estate conglomerate in Midtow
n. It’s owner and CEO is Nick Martin, billionaire playboy and handsome as fuck man about town, in the news as often for his latest female conquest as his most recent business acquisition. But that had nothing to do with me. I’d applied for a low-level role, just one step up from intern, I’d never see the top dog himself.

  And when I got the position, it never occurred to me that I’d have occasion to meet Mr. Martin. In fact, in the three months I’ve been here, I still don’t know where he sits, what he does, or even caught a glimpse of the man. I’d love to, sure, just to see if Nick Martin’s as hot as he looks in the papers, but unfortunately billionaire CEOs don’t come by the basement very often, Mr. Martin’s probably in a glass penthouse in the sky, about as far from me as you can get.

  Because yeah, I sit underground now, in the sub-basement really. I used to have a desk on the third floor with a bunch of other marketing folks but when my boss got into a motorcycle accident, stuck in the hospital indefinitely, HR moved me down here.

  It’s a terrible location. I’m right next to the boiler, so it’s really hot and I often have to undo the top two buttons on my blouse just to cool down a bit. Plus, there’s no one else around. I’m literally alone down here, in a tiny little office with no windows, the hallway outside silent, floors polished, only the occasional whine of building machinery coming on with a heavy metallic creak.

  And so I’ve been coming to work each day, letting myself in, wandering the halls by myself. At first, I tried my best to hold down the fort without my boss, to be his representative, but it didn’t really work. When clients realized that an eighteen year-old girl was now the only person in Interactive Marketing, they slowly disappeared, finding other outlets, other resources to handle their needs. So now I sit at my desk and read the Employee Handbook, peruse random marketing texts trying to teach myself the ins and outs of this job. But it’s impossible to fill eight hours a day and most of the time I’m on my own.