Her Swedish Billionaire's Baby(18)

 

There wasn't a word to describe how right it felt.

 

Bjorn joined Samara on the bed, both naked and hard.

 

Samara met him halfway, and their tongues tangled together, kissing sweet and slow, like they had all the time in the world. Bjorn got on top of Samara, and was mesmerized at the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, body spread out, so pliant and gorgeous underneath him.

 

"You’re beautiful," Bjorn murmured, then trailed open-mouthed kisses down Samara's body, paying close attention to her sensitive nipples.

 

Samara moaned, clutched at Bjorn's hair in an attempt to make Bjorn continue his ministrations. "You’re beautiful too," Samara replied, breathless.

 

Bjorn smirked. This was too much fun, getting Samara all riled up.

 

"Bjorn--" Samara trailed off when she felt Bjorn's tongue on her hole.

 

Bjorn smirked when Samara made a noise in the back of her throat.

 

"Bjorn, oh my...oh my God," Samara whimpered.

 

Bjorn could see her thighs trembling, her pussy was leaking like a faucet, and felt the room get 20 degrees hotter. Could Samara come just from this?

 

Fuck, he wanted to find out. But, he was hard again and Samara had been aroused for awhile now, might explode if they didn't get this show on the road, so he decided he'd test that theory out later.

 

He grabbed the bottle of lube from the bedside table, slicked his fingers up and pressed one at Samara's entrance. He was shocked when Samara sank right down on it and moaned for more.

 

"Samara, fuck. What--how--?" Bjorn couldn't get a whole sentence out, too focused on how sexy Samara looked riding his finger, how tight Samara was around him, and fuck--

 

"That's fucking hot," Bjorn breathed.

 

Bjorn slid another finger in, relished Samara's drawn out moan as he started fucking his fingers in and out, spreading Samara wide.

 

"Fuck, Bjorn. Wanted this for so long. I never imagined it would be you, wanted it to be someone like you, someone I really really wanted. Please, Bjorn," Samara babbled, nearly out of her mind with pleasure as Bjorn hit her sweet spot.

 

Bjorn groaned. "Yeah, babe. Gonna give you what you want. Gonna fuck you; I'll make it so good, baby."

 

Bjorn reached towards the bedside table again, but Samara grabbed his hand to stop him.

 

"Just you. Wanna feel you. Please."

 

Bjorn thought about that tight heat, wrapped all around him, squeezing his bare cock. "'Kay," Bjorn quickly agreed, nodding.

 

He lined himself up, met Samara's eyes, and pushed in.

 

They both moaned.

 

Fuck, it was so much better than he'd ever imagined.

 

He kept still, gave Samara time to adjust, and time to get himself under control.

 

Samara nodded, "You can move..."

 

Bjorn started out slow, pulled out and gently thrust back in but Samara wasn't having it. She spread her legs as far as they would go, and pressed a kiss to Bjorn's lips. She murmured, "Harder, Bjorn. Fuck me."

 

Bjorn happily obeyed. He pulled out, thrust back in as hard as he could, sure to hit Samara's sweet spot, spurred on by Samara's moans.

 

Samara was noisy and Bjorn fucking loved it. Breathless moans and gasps and hot little sounds punched out of him with every thrust.

 

It was, by far, the best sex Bjorn ever had.

 

Bjorn reached between them, stroked Samara, desperate not to come until Samara did.

 

It only took four strokes and Samara was coming, her muscles clenching and fluttering around Bjorn until...

 

"Fuck," Bjorn yelled as he thrust one last time and came, marking up Samara's insides.

 

He gently pulled out and flopped down next to Samara, who had a sated smile on her face.

 

Bjorn got up to grab some tissues, cleaned himself and Samara, then flopped back down on the bed. Samara immediately curled around him, tangling their legs together and snuggling up to Bjorn's chest.

 

Bjorn carded his fingers through Samara's hair. "You were great," he murmured affectionately.

 

Samara smiled, half-asleep. "Thanks, Bjorn."

 

Bjorn pressed a kiss to Samara's forehead, letting out a happy little sigh.

 

It couldn't possibly get any better than this.

 

 

 

Alison was pouring drinks at the bar when she spied her dad in the corner. He was hustling pool in the corner; pretending to be drunker than he was. She rolled her eyes and turned away. The men he was playing with were some serious badasses; if Chris wanted to risk his life trying to get money from them, that was his problem. Alison was staying out of it. She was legit now; had a pay check and everything. Maybe next month, when she had some vacation days she’d go down to California and look her sister up.