The Billionaire's Healing (2 page)

While
I may have been self-conscious about my body, I was certainly aware
of it. I had gotten very good at pleasuring myself over the years. So
much so that I probably would have been fine without a man for the
rest of my life.

“
Are
you wet?” he asked.

“
Wet
for you.”

“
That's
what I like to hear.”

I
slipped a finger inside myself, working it in and out, getting ready
for a much larger intruder. The goal was to stimulate myself, but not
to come. That pleasure was reserved for Garret, to feel my pussy
contracting around his sex in hopes that it would make him orgasm as
well.

“
Finish
getting dressed,” I told him, scooting further back onto the
bed. “I need you inside of me.”

I
listened to the rustle of his clothing while I laid back against the
soft comforter, teasing my nipples to stay warmed up for him.

“
Since
we don't have the dimmer switch installed yet, I thought we might try
something different tonight,” Garret suggested, and I instantly
felt my stomach twist into a knot of apprehension.

“
You
on top.”

“
I'll
squish you.” I made an unpleasant face and was thankful he
couldn't see it. Definitely not sexy.

“
No,
you won't.”

“
Yes,
I will,” I objected strongly. Up until that point, the only
positions we had tried were missionary and him standing at the edge
of the bed with my legs wrapped around his hips.

“
You
need to start trusting me,” he insisted. “I wouldn't ask
these things of you if I didn't want them. It's not me that has a
problem with your body. It's you. I think you're perfect just the way
you are.”

My
heart felt warm from his kind words. It was a truth that I was having
the hardest time accepting. Garret didn't care about my weight. He
just wanted me. I was holding back our sexual relationship, not him.

“
Alright,”
I replied reluctantly, and I felt the bed shift beside me as he got
up onto it. “But promise you'll tell me if I'm hurting you or
you can't breath or something.”

“
Stop
it,” he chastised me. “I won't have anymore of you saying
stuff like that. You're beautiful and amazing, and you're not going
to hurt me.”

I
sighed, feeling my way towards his body. My hands glided over the
smooth muscles of his stomach, and I felt a small electric current of
desire down below. Garret was so impossibly beautiful. How lucky I
was to have a man like him.

Carefully,
I straddled him on the bed. I was thankful that Garret seemed more
focused on guiding himself inside of me that touching my stomach or
anywhere else I would have been uncomfortable with. I lowered myself
onto him slowly, feeling his glans spreading my lips and seeking
entry. There was a bit of resistance, but soon I was sliding down his
length, enjoying the way he filled me perfectly.

I
moaned as I began bobbing up and down on top of him. It had been so
long since I had ridden a man. Not since my ex-husband, who made a
point to tell me that I was no good at it. I scowled at the memory,
despite my current pleasure.

Garret
hooked his arms around my waist, which sent waves of discomfort
rolling through me when his skin touched the creases where my body
bent forward. His thoughts were elsewhere though as he began
thrusting up into me. Before I had time to object to his touch, I was
moaning loudly, panting for breath while he pounded into me. He
pulled me down to him, my breasts pressing against his chest as he
went to town on my pussy.

“
Oh
yeah,” I groaned, and then his hands began to wander. They
first slid up my sides, and my whole body went rigid as he caressed
my skin. Soon, it was too much to bear, and I found myself clutching
at his hands, moving them to my breasts.

Garret
gave them little attention before sitting up, forcing me to
straighten as well. “Roll. I want on top,” he said, and I
carefully found my way onto my back, never breaking contact with him.

Grabbing
me by the hips, Garret pulled me toward the edge of the bed. Then I
heard his feet hit the floor as he took his preferred position
between my legs. His hands grasped the inside of my thighs, and I
cringed at the feel of his fingers sinking into my soft flesh. How I
hated myself for not having a fitter body for him. Again, he didn't
even seem to notice, spreading my legs and lifting one of them into
the air to hook it over his shoulder for better access. Within a
matter of seconds, he was inside me, thrusting as he hugged my leg.

I
moaned in abandonment, the heated friction of his fucking sending
tiny contractions of pleasure straight to my clit. Garret was an
amazing lover. One of the best I'd ever had.

Testing
his luck, he placed a hand on my stomach, which I quickly swatted
away. Relentlessly, he tried again.

“
Stop,”
I warned.

“
Why?”

“
Because
I don't like it.”

“
I
like the feel of your skin. It's soft.”

“
We're
supposed to be taking things slow, remember. And I think I've let you
touch enough of me tonight. More than I have before.”

“
Do
you want me to get off?” He stopped thrusting, suddenly
sounding upset.

“
No,
of course not,” I replied, a bit guilty that I had made such a
big deal about him touching me. “It feels good. I don't want
you to stop.”

“
And
you feel good, so don't stop me,” Garret chastised me, but
didn't try to put his hand on my stomach again. Instead, he grabbed
one of my breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze as he picked up the
pace before returning to hugging my leg.

My
hand slid down to my clit, feeling the build. I moaned loudly as the
contractions began, sending me into euphoric bliss.

“
Is
that good, baby?” he asked, seemingly back to his normal
lustful self.

“
Oh
yes,” I admitted, feeling the final contractions roll beneath
my fingertips.

It
wasn't long before Garret was pumping into me with a ferocity that
meant he was ready to release as well. I clenched my muscles around
his shaft as tight as possible while I moaned encouragements. The
sound of his ragged breathing spoke that it was almost time, and then
finally, he pulled out for the grand finale, spilling his juices onto
my stomach.

When
Garret's body settled, he went to the bathroom for a towel to clean
me up. I grinned at the fact that he was still struggling to catch
his breath.

“
That
was good,” I praised him.

“
It
was,” he agreed, tossing the towel to the side and turning back
the comforter.

“
Aren't
we going to bed a little early tonight?” I looked at the alarm
clock on his bedside table. The digital display read eight thirty.

“
You
absolutely exhausted me,” he joked, pulling me into his arms.

“
Really?”
my voice was full of sarcasm.

“
Yes,
and I have a meeting at seven. And I haven't slept well lately.”

“
And
why is that?” I curled up against his chest, sighing contently.

“
Because
you're a very sexually demanding woman.” Garret let out a short
laugh before kissing me on top of the head.

For
a moment, we lay in silence. All that I could hear was the sound of
his heart beating. How comforting it was, knowing that it belonged to
me, along with the rest of him.

“
I'd
like to see your apartment sometime this week,” he broke me
away from my romantic thoughts.

“
You
really don't.”

“
I
really do.”

“
Why?”

“
Because
I'd like to see where you live. It's not an unreasonable request, you
know.”

I
sighed. “I know.” Somehow, I had managed to dodge that
bullet for an entire month, but I could tell by his tone that he was
becoming suspicious, his trust issues kicking in. There was no need
for him to worry that I had some secret reason why I didn't want to
show him my apartment. Maybe it was best to get it over with, for
both of us. “Alright. You can come over on Monday after work.
I'll make you dinner.”

“
That
sounds lovely,” Garret said, and about five minutes later I
could hear him snoring. He really must be exhausted. Perhaps my
sexual demands were running him ragged. I smiled at the silly
thought, relaxing my head against his chest for a comfortable night's
sleep.

By
the next afternoon, the dimmer switch was installed in Garret's
bedroom. I looked at it with disdain as he demonstrated the settings.
Secretly, I plotted to set it half a notch back for every twist that
he gave it forward. Hopefully, he wouldn't be observant enough to
find me out.

With
every ounce of light that was allowed into our room during sex, I
felt more and more self-conscious. I did my best to try to immerse my
mind in other thoughts while we made love, such as things that had
gone on at work or even what I would make for supper the next day.
Needless to say, it zapped the passion out of our love-making, and
while Garret thought to ask me what was wrong, I refused to let him
know that my self-esteem issues were getting worse, not better.

Monday
rolled around, and it was time for the dreaded visit to my apartment.
I insisted that we take his most inconspicuous vehicle, lest the gang
members who liked to hang out at the front of the complex decided he
looked worth mugging.

“
Well,
this is it?” I told Garret as we pulled up in front of the
complex. For an inexpensive complex, it wasn't a sore sight on the
eyes. The building had been freshly painted, and maintenance kept up
with the grounds well enough.

My
eyes darted around nervously, paranoid that he would be noticed as I
led him to the doorstep and jammed my key in the keyhole. It was a
good metaphor for what I'd like him to do to me later, I thought
naughtily.

Once
inside, Garret took his time looking around. There wasn't much to see
with one bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. I wasn't
a very good interior decorator either, so the only things on my walls
were paintings that my grandmother had done of scenic landscapes and
a few family photos. Otherwise, the walls were bare.

“
See,
nothing impressive or exciting,” I said, heading to the kitchen
to get him a bottle of water before I started making dinner.

“
It's
cozy,” Garret replied as politely as possible.

There
wasn't any doubt in my mind that it was likely the smallest apartment
he'd ever been in. Garret had come from a wealthy family, and all of
his friends were rich too. None of their parents would have allowed
to live them in a place so small.

“
Make
yourself at home, and I'm going to get dinner going.” I handed
him a bottled water and gestured to my fifty-inch plasma television.
It was one of the few things of value that I owned. “I don't
have cable, or local channels, for that matter, but you can pop in a
DVD if you'd like.”

“
How
do you live without cable?” Garret said in exaggerated
disbelief as he strolled over to my bookcase to browse through my
movies.

“
I
don't watch television,” I called back from the kitchen. “The
only reason I bought that TV was to play video games on it.”

“
A
woman after my own heart. Though I must admit, I can't live without
sports.”

Soon,
I heard the opening for Avatar, and I tried my best to refocus on my
cooking duties, content to know he was entertained. Dinner was
spaghetti and meatballs. It was one of my specialties. Not the canned
stuff either. I made everything home-made except for the noodles.

After
dinner was served and we were both full, we settled onto my love seat
to finish watching the rest of the movie. He offered to start it
over, but I'd seen it at least ten times before—knew all the
lines by heart practically.

Garret
placed his hand on my inner thigh, and I felt it mischievously
traveling up my leg by the end of the movie. I knew what he wanted,
but I was a bit embarrassed to give it to him here. His bed was a lot
bigger and more comfortable than mine. Plus, mine would probably
squeak.