Serving the Billionaire by Bec Linder

enough,” he said. “You’re hungry for my cock, aren’t you? I want you to tell me how much you want it.”
    I blushed again. It amazed me that I was still capable of being embarrassed at this point. “I want it,” I said.
    He drew out and thrust in again, slowly, teasing. “How much?”
    “A lot,” I said, “okay, Carter, please, I can’t wait anymore, I need you—”
    It worked. Whatever it was I said, he finally gave me what I wanted. With no warning, he pulled out and slammed into me, his hips crushing against my ass. I cried out, startled, and held tight to the headboard as he established a punishing rhythm. He pounded into me, pausing each time he bottomed out to grind his hips against me. I was helpless, caught between his cock and the headboard, able to do nothing but hold on and wail.
    I always thought that sex would be awkward, the first time, and painful; something to get through, like a visit to the doctor’s office. Not this, with Carter behind me and building waves of ecstasy flowing through my body. I hadn’t imagined anything like this.
    Carter moved one hand from my hip and slid it between my legs, rubbing at my clit in time with his thrusts. As swollen and sore as I was, after hours of arousal and two orgasms, I felt myself begin to build toward the peak again. I shifted my hips from side to side, both trying to get away from him and trying to get his fingers to move exactly how I wanted them to. I was overcome. I couldn’t speak, or see, or do anything but let Carter force my body to respond, like he’d been doing this for years and knew every way to touch me, every way to make me lose my mind.
    It should have taken me a long time to get there. It was usually one and done for me when I touched myself, and a dim part of me was surprised at how I responded to Carter’s touch. My body wasn’t surprised at all, though. It knew that it belonged to Carter. As his fingers moved faster, it became harder and harder for me to maintain a coherent train of thought, and soon I abandoned the effort altogether and let myself become a mindless, yearning thing, bracing myself against the headboard and pushing back into Carter’s every thrust.
    “You’re there, aren’t you?” he said, and I was, I was: he knew me better than I knew myself. I was there, and I wanted him to send me over the edge, but I couldn’t, not without his permission, without his words telling me that it was okay.
    I whined, high in my throat, the only communication I was capable of at that point. If I could have spoken, I would have babbled praise and pleas, begging him, asking me to finally, finally let me come on his hard cock.
    He rolled his fingers over my clit again, expertly, and said, “Come for me now, Regan.”
    I had to obey him. I had no other choice.
    It seemed to last for an eon. Whole universes were created and destroyed while I shuddered and clenched around his cock. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard that I saw bright geometric patterns behind my closed eyelids. My pussy throbbed and pulsed, alternately pulling Carter deeper and pushing him out. I had never felt anything like it.
    “That’s right,” Carter said, from some distant planet, his fingers still moving on my clit. “You’re being so good for me.”
    He thought I was good, and that was all that mattered. I held onto the headboard so hard that my fingertips tingled from the lack of blood, and felt my body respond to Carter Sutton like it had been created for that exact purpose.
    My orgasm ended at last, and I sagged to the mattress, hands still curled around the headboard. I couldn’t stay upright anymore. My limbs wouldn’t cooperate.
    I felt his hands at the back of my head, untying the blindfold. He drew it away from my face and tossed it onto the floor. Then he drew out of me, and I cried out in wordless protest, already missing the feeling of his cock pressing me open.
    “Hush now,” he said. He turned me over, gently, and eased me down onto my