Dirty Aristocrat: British Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (21 page)

BOOK: Dirty Aristocrat: British Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
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‘I love to eat and fuck at the same time.’

‘What?’ I shook my head. ‘How?’

‘Sit on my poor sick dick and I’ll show you.’

‘No way. I won’t to be able to eat while you’re inside me.’

‘Of course you will,’ he said and, reaching for a condom, sheathed himself.

‘No, I won’t,’

‘Yes, you will.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. Now come and sit on my fucking dick,’ he ordered.

‘Well, if it’s really going to help,’ I murmured and started to crawl towards him. Strange fact: I was actually wet and wanting to impale myself on that glistening pillar of hard meat too. I straddled him, my knees on either side of his body.

‘Is your sweet pussy wet?’

I felt my vagina pulse with excitement. ‘You bet.’

He smiled. ‘This time you get to decide how far into you I go. Think you can take me to the hilt?’

‘Either that or I’ll die trying,’ I said with a grin.

I gripped the thick shaft in my fist and, positioning it under me, slowly lowered myself onto the blunt head.

He grabbed my hips and pushed me a few inches down his shaft. My mouth opened in a silent gasp of surprise.

‘The rest is up to you,’ he said quietly.

I exhaled the air slowly from my lungs and savored the sensation of his thick heat stretching me. A man inside a woman must be remembered in the DNA because it felt familiar, as if I’d had him inside me a thousand times before. I realized being stuffed full must be a primal pleasure.

‘Your pussy is so tight it feels like it’s sucking my cock in.’

Holding his eyes, I pushed myself down on him. A slow burning heat flowered at my core and rippled through my entire body as I went on that long, slow slide down that thick pillar of meat.

I imagined him as a beautiful stallion, big and powerful, sculptured with muscles, taking my weight and movement in his stride whilst I rode us both to the ultimate pleasure. My nerves felt raw and my skin tingled with his every touch.

Not taking his eyes off me, he reached for the tray and slid it along towards him.

‘What’s this?’ he asked, holding up the cornbread.

I stopped my downward movement. ‘Um … corn … bread.’

He took a bite and chewed. ‘It’s like a hug from God,’ he said appreciatively. He held the cornbread six inches away from his mouth. ‘Go on take a bite,’ he urged.

I leaned forward.

‘Mind my fingers,’ he cautioned.

I bit into it.

‘Bounce on my dick,’ he said.

Still chewing, I slid up and down his shaft. It was the strangest sensation. I swallowed it as quickly as I could.

He thrust upwards while I was on my way down. ‘What are the balls?’ he asked.

I was almost incoherent with the jolt of electric pleasure that went through my body. ‘Ahhh … what?’ I asked blankly.

He played with my clit. ‘The balls on the tray. What are they?’

‘Uh … cheese. Ohhhh … Ahhh … Cheese balls,’ I gasped.

Using his left hand, he popped a cheese ball into my mouth and watched me as I writhed under the ministrations of his right hand.

‘Very tasty. Did you make them?’

‘Yessssss,’ I hissed.

‘Here,’ he said and pushed another cheese ball between my parted lips. I rolled it in my mouth and tried to chew it while his hands circled my clit and manipulated it until I thought I was going to climax and choke to death or spew the food all over him. But he took his hand away and I quickly swallowed the food in my mouth. He needed both hands to unscrew the jar of pickled okra.

‘What on earth is this?’

‘Pickled okra,’ I said pausing in the act of jumping up and down on his shaft.

‘Don’t stop. Continue bouncing,’ he instructed.

He extracted a vegetable in his hand. ‘Are they supposed to go with the cheese balls?’

I nodded.

He smelt it, made a face, and brought it to my mouth instead. I quickly took a bite and, tasting nothing, swallowed it. He popped another cheese ball into his mouth. I stared at how unaffected he seemed to be when I could barely think with his hard cock so deep inside me.

‘Fuck my dick harder, Tawny,’ he said, casually dusting the crumbs off his hands.

I rode him faster until finally I could see that he was no longer in control. His eyes were becoming darker, his jaw was tight and his mouth was starting to become a snarl. He was very close to climax.

‘Lean forward and grind your clit on my groin,’ he commanded.

As soon as I leaned forward and tried to obey his order, his cock was suddenly too deep. ‘Oh, sweet Jesus,’ I panted.

‘An inch too far?’ he growled.

‘Make me,’ I cried. ‘Make me take all of you … every last inch. Push me down on you. All the way.’

He frowned. ‘That would hurt you.’

‘I want it,’ I whispered fiercely. ‘I want to take all of you. I want you to cram it all in. Every last inch.’

‘No.’

‘Other women have taken it all in.’

‘They didn’t have the tight cunt you have.’

I let him slip out of me and rubbed my wet cleft shamelessly along the length of his cock. ‘Please. Just this once. So I know what it feels like. If it gets too much I’ll scream and you can stop.’

He hesitated.

‘Just this once.’

In a flash he grabbed my hips, penetrated me, and pushed my body down until my sex was flush with his skin. My mouth was open in a silent scream. Gritting my teeth so I didn’t scream out, I leaned forward and ground myself on him until I came hard, gushing on his cock. He caught the bottom of my thighs and pumped hard into me until his cock swelled even more and he exploded inside me. I looked at him, panting and triumphant. I had taken all of him.

 

CHAPTER 24

Tawny Maxwell

L
ying on my stomach, I licked the vinegar of a pickled okra while Ivan looked sideways at me. He had already dismissed this Southern delicacy as inedible. I nibbled the tip.

‘Hey, you know when we first started to, you know, do it, you left me and went to your room because you had something important to do.’ I turned my face towards him. ‘What was so important?’

He popped a cheese ball into his mouth. ‘I had to jerk off.’

‘What? You left me waiting on my hands and knees and went to jerk off?’ I spluttered in disbelief.

‘You obviously have no comprehension at all of the male body. I couldn’t have lasted a few seconds inside you the way I was. I wanted your first time to be a bit more memorable than a premature ejaculation experience.’

I looked at him startled. ‘Well, in that case … thank you?’

‘You’re welcome. So you and Robert didn’t have sex, huh?’ he asked casually. Too casually. He made a point of not even looking at me.

I felt my body contract. We were travelling into dangerous territory here. I felt the relaxed lazy atmosphere change. A stillness fell over us. I bit my lip.

‘Uh, no, he … um … couldn’t,’ I said.

I didn’t think I had sounded convincing, but to my surprise he grinned suddenly and said, ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. It was fun being the first one inside you.’

I looked at him long and hard. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were deliberately expressionless. His reaction was not at all what I expected, but it was much better for me if we dropped the subject.

‘By the way, my mother wants to meet you.’

I shot up. ‘What?’

‘Fraid so,’ he said.

I put the half eaten okra back on the plate. ‘When does she want to meet?’

‘Tomorrow. She’s invited you to tea at Foxgrove.’

‘But you said she wouldn’t be caught dead in England during winter.’

‘Ordinarily yes, but she wants to meet the woman her son’s chosen to be the next Lady Greystoke.’

‘But I don’t have anything suitable to wear,’ I wailed.

‘That’s why you’re going shopping tomorrow. Something for tea with my mother on Sunday and something for our wedding on Monday.’

I worried my lower lip with my teeth. ‘What time is she expecting us?’

‘Actually,’ he said, ‘it’s only you who’s invited.’

‘Oh no! She’s not going to give me the third degree, is she?’

‘Nah. My mother’s cool. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly so she’ll be right up your street.’

‘How should I address her?’ I asked nervously.

He grinned. ‘Call her Bobo.’

I scowled. ‘What?’

‘Bobo,’ he said slowly, as if I had said what because I had not heard him properly, and not because it was the most ridiculous thing you could call someone’s mother.

‘I can’t call her that,’ I protested.

‘Why not? That’s what her inner-circle call her.’

‘To start with I’m not part of her inner circle and I’d feel really silly calling your mother Bobo.’

‘You can’t call her by her official title either,’ he said reasonably.

‘You’re really serious. You want me to call your mother Bobo.’

He shrugged. ‘It sounds funny to you because you’re not used to it, but we all have nicknames. It’s what we aristocrats do. We give each other silly names that no one outside our circle would dare to use.’

I grinned. ‘So what’s yours?’

He looked at me playfully. ‘Should be BigDick, but in truth I don’t have one. From the time I was three years old I refused to answer to anything except Ivan.’

I screwed my face playfully. ‘Hmmm … so why do I remember Robert mentioning something about Ivan the Terrible.’

He frowned. ‘Robert mentioned that?

‘Mmm … so are you Ivan the Terrible or aren’t you?’ I asked.

He sighed. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’

‘So why did you say you didn’t have a nickname?’

‘That’s not a nickname, Tawny. That’s a title I earned while I was at Oxford.’

I lay back down and leaned my head on my temple. ‘You earned it?’

He looked embarrassed and I stared at him in surprise. ‘You’re not having a shy moment, are you?’

He looked down at his flat stomach, his eyelashes as extravagant as fans on his cheeks. ‘It’s hard for me to explain to you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re so real and down-to-earth and this story will only fly with the over-privileged, the shallow, and the utterly self-obsessed, narcissistic dip-shits that I, being one myself, ran around with in my youth.’

I touched his shoulder. ‘Try me. I’m not afraid of getting a little mud on my boots.’

He looked me in the eye. ‘You think you want to know, but you don’t, Tawny.’

I lean closer and whisper in his ear, ‘Do you know, they say in my neck of the woods, that if the dirt ain’t flying, you ain’t trying.’

He jerked back and looked at me, an odd glint in his eye. ‘All right. Let’s see how much dirt you can stomach.’

I stared transfixed at him.

‘I used to belong to a super elitist secret club. A gathering of the sons of the crème de la crème of society. All those who were in it with me now hold high political posts or are respected captains of industry, but back then we wore purple waistcoats tailored at Ede & Ravenscroft with pompous, swaggering conceit, and held grand banquets full of boisterous ritual. We drank heavily and reveled in vulgar and ostentatious displays of wealth and power.’

He sighed heavily.

‘We mocked the poor and the downtrodden, we destroyed purely for the pleasure of destroying. We’d go to restaurants and clubs and completely vandalize them. I mean tear them apart, cause tens of thousands of pounds worth of damage. At the end of the night we’d pay for the damages in cash, and just walk away.’

I gasped and he looked uncomfortable, but he carried on.

‘Our goal was to be as profligate as possible. We did anything we wanted, took anything we wanted, because we could. Because there were no consequences for us. We could buy our way out of everything. As horrible as it may sound to you, our parents took the attitude that it was a good place where we could unleash potent, pent-up aristocratic testosterone. Boys will be boys.’

I inhaled sharply, disgusted that such a society could even exist, and shocked that Ivan had been a member of it. How was it possible that the very people I always held as more refined and civilized than the rest of society, should be members of such a horrible club?

 Ivan ignored my shocked expression.

‘There was another aspect to the club. It was very competitive. One time the club held a contest. Up for grabs were the words “The Terrible” affixed behind the winner’s name. The rules. The member who impaled the most women in a one-hour period would be the winner and forever after carry that title. No using prostitutes. Of course, I couldn’t let anyone else win. It would have been a slap in the face if someone else got the title that was so obviously meant to be behind my name. What was going to sound better than Ivan the Terrible. I wanted the title.’

He shrugged.

‘While everyone else was running around trying to get drunk women to lie low with, I got twenty women—some I’d already fucked before, some whom I knew wanted me but I had no interest in, and some that I promised to go out with even though I had zero interest in doing so—to stand in a row and I literarily fucked my way down the line. At the end of less than an hour, my cock had dipped into every one of those women. I was crowned Ivan the Terrible during a drink until you vomit ceremony. So there, that’s my dirty little secret.’

I have to admit the story sickened me. ‘Awww … bless your little pea pickin’ heart,’ I said softly.

‘Don’t think I don’t know that Southerners say that when they think someone is an idiot?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ I confessed truthfully.

‘We were just a bunch of schoolboys, frauds, parading around pretending to be men. We didn’t feel like frauds because everyone else in our little club was just as fraudulent. Some of us grew up, Tawny. I did.’

‘Would you still do anything to win?’ I asked softly.

He looked me in the eye. ‘Yeah.’

‘That’s terrible.’

‘I can’t help it. It’s just in me. Once I set my mind on something I have to win at all costs.’

I stared at him. I definitely would not want to be in competition for something he wanted.

 ‘By the way,’ he said, and reached down to the floor for his pants. He put his hand into the side pocket and brought out a small box. He opened it and dislodged a ring from its velvet base. Then he pulled my hand towards him and slipped the ring on my finger.

BOOK: Dirty Aristocrat: British Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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