Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(119)

You will fucking cum.

You'll cum so fucking hard you'll probably black out. You'll be in a  fucking sex haze for days. You won't walk straight. You'll have a  deliciously sweet and good feeling of soreness that'll make you wet just  thinking about why you're sore. You'll lose track of fucking time.  You'll be pushed into paradise. You'll be in orbit.

Because you'll never have had, or will have, another fuck like the one I'll give you. I fucking promise you that.

The thing is, I'll have told you beforehand that while we fuck, you're  going to have to remember what I do to you-because afterwards, I'll be  out. Like a thief in the night. Sure, we'll part ways amicably. But I'll  tell you this before I even fucking touch you. You'll be so desperate  to get your hands on me you won't even care at that point. You'll say  yes to anything. Fuck, you won't even realize till you wait by the phone  the next day, wondering dreamily of when I'm going to call you only to  realize that I'm not.

And that's when you're gonna start getting clingy. That's when you're  going to find out that we had fun, and we had some good fucking  memories, but all of a sudden you want more.

You want not just the body, but the fucking soul of Ethan Kane. You want  me waking up next to you in the morning. You want to go for walks along  the beach with me. You want to move into my multi-million dollar One57  penthouse in the skies of New York City. You want the billionaire bad  boy. But you want him all for yourself. Fucking tamed.

Not gonna fucking happen in this lifetime, babe. Sorry. But I will have  already told you that. I'll have given you my entire vision. Its not my  fault you were too fucking horny, dripping wet and ready to fuck, to pay  attention.

"Oh Daddy, fuck me harder," Carla moans, and I fucking oblige her. She's  not the cutest, but she's got the face of a porn star, that's for sure.  She's got a nice ass, and some solid tits. Definitely good for an  afternoon fuck. Let's put it like this, I got her bent over and she's  moaning my name, calling out to God in various languages as her pussy is  contracting around my cock. I can tell she's cumming and that she's  cumming hard. I can feel her body go limp, and I reach my hands over to  hold her in place as I put in my last couple of thrusts.

Fuck, this is going to be a lot of fucking cum. I can tell already. Not  for anything that Carla's doing. But because my balls are the size of  fucking tennis balls. I haven't jerked off all fucking day.

"Argh!" I roar savagely as I feel the beginnings of my orgasm build up.  My nuts tighten up and a jolt of electricity is shooting from my cock  all the way up my spine.

I pull out and rip the condom off in one smooth flourish. You can barely  even see it and that's the fucking point. I turn Carla over with one  arm and she turns willingly, a hungry look in her eye as she sinks down  to her knees in front of my cock.

That's right baby. Just like that. Come to fucking Daddy.

Carla looks at me with eyes clouded by lust and opens her mouth wide.  She sticks out her tongue and I can't control myself anymore. Just the  wild abandon in this woman. The sheer depravity of the situation is too  much for me. Just how fucking wrong it is. So fucking taboo. So fucking  delicious.

I exhale and grunt as I fucking cum.

Shivers of pleasure wrack my body as thick, white ropes of cum shoot  out. It hits her face and chin before she repositions herself and gets  the remaining shots directly on her tongue and mouth.

I groan lewdly as she brings her mouth over and wraps her lips around my head, giving me a final couple of sucks.

My eyes roll back.

And that's when I hear it.

"Cut!" the sharp call of the director.

I open my eyes.

Carla is on her feet. She looks to me as she wipes her mouth with a  towel. "That was fantastic, Ethan," she says to me. "Only, I wish we had  a chance to do it in private."

I shrug. What can I say? I'm a busy fucking guy, and no way I'm going to make special time for an employee.

"Good luck with the rest of your shoots today, babe," I tell her, and she smiles at me as I turn away.

Yeah, I know, you don't need to tell me that she's still looking. She's  staring at my naked ass. Wondering if there's anything she can say.

"Ethan?" she calls out. Told you.

I turn around.

"You think that maybe … ." Carla trails off because right at that moment  my assistant, Cheryl walks up to me. I'm putting on my boxer briefs. But  Cheryl doesn't care. She's seen everything already. And fuck you, no,  I've never fucked her. But she's been there for me since I was a kid.

Before I inherited all this. Before Illicit Entertainment was a globe girdling media company.

"I see you still insist on doing these movies, Ethan," Cheryl says in an  exasperated voice as she barely pays Carla any mind. Carla stands  around for another minute, but decides that being naked at this point in  time as everyone moves around her is just silly.

"You didn't get the head shots, right?" I ask Cheryl.

She shakes her head. "No, everything was caught from the neck down," she  confirms. "It's ready for beta testing on the product. We can head to  the developer meeting right after this."

Cheryl turns and starts walking to the door. She expects me to follow.

Oh right. The product. Haven't told you what that is, babe. But trust me, you're going to love it.

But before you head on in, let me just give you a fucking warning, okay?

You've seen what my fucking monster cock can do.

There's a lot more fucking coming up. Seriously, either take your  panties off now, or get ready for them to get drenched. And I'm talking  wet enough that there's no passing it off.

Make sure you're by yourself. Get the fucking batteries ready. Get the fan. Fuck. Do whatever.

Because you're about to go for a ride that's gonna fucking rock your whole world.

Just don't say I didn't fucking warn you, babe.

I turn around and slip my shirt on and follow Cheryl out of the studio.





90





Brittney





I check my face in my compact mirror one last time and get out of the  car. I get a few looks from the people on the street-a door to a limo  usually has the driver opening it, but no way I'm going to waste  Walter's time doing that right now. He absolutely has places to be and  he needs to go focus on that. Besides, I'm a big girl. I've been a big  girl for a while now.

I tug the sash around my trench coat and hold my head up. This is going to be easy. This is going to be fun.         

     



 

My heels click and clack on the shiny marble floor as I walk into the  global headquarters of Carter Jeffries-the storied investment bank. It's  located in midtown Manhattan, on 52nd and Park Avenue. I head straight  to the security desk and look the overworked schmo in the eye.

"Brittney Roman to see Carl Ketchum," I tell the security guard. I don't  pay any attention to the guy. I need to let him think that I think I'm  too good for him. That I'm too busy looking at my phone, looking at my  nails, doing anything.

I know how to pull it off. I've had to pull myself out of worse before.  Hell, there's not a day that doesn't go by where I don't look back at my  life and wonder how I ended up here, owning my own company that's worth  millions of dollars at the age of 27.

When just four years ago I was in Los Angeles and seriously wondering if  I was going to be alive the next day. If it was better off to just die.

But no, I'm sorry hun; I need to focus. I'll tell you all about it later, okay?

Right now, I need to smile perfunctorily at the guard as he scans my  face and asks for my ID. I need to look to the side so he can stare at  my profile in what he thinks is a sneaky manner.

I need to loosen my trench coat just a little bit to give him a peek  down into my tits. That always works for men. Not much trouble getting  them to say fuck it with protocol and let me in if I show some boob. He  doesn't care if I'm not on the list. I've smiled and flirted and I even  touched his hand an extra second longer when I gave him my ID. But then I  went back to ignoring him.

I'm sure subconsciously he's thinking if he makes this fast for me he's  going to have some kind of shot when I come downstairs. Maybe I'll go  back with him to his studio apartment in the Bronx and suck his dick.

Too bad I don't leave Manhattan. Or suck loser dick.

And that's just what he is. A fucking loser. Because two seconds later  he does everything I told you he would. He hands me a temporary pass.  "45th floor, Miss Roman," he says to me and I nod sweetly. Let's keep  the hope alive. Without hope, we're all dead anyways, right hun?

Oh, yeah, okay, fine. I'll even shake my ass a bit side to side as I  walk to the security turnstiles. Keep his stare for a bit longer.

The elevator ride takes seriously just under a minute. That's because  the elevator I get into serves only the first floor, and floors 40 to  50. I guess those investment and private equity bankers can't wait, huh?  They have to get to work at their desks screwing over the country as  fast as they can.

I walk out of the elevators and enter the lobby of the 45th floor. This  is the Private Client floor for Carter Jeffries-one department among  dozens that operates as a company within a company.