I sprang off the mattress and lowered my pants without his having to remind me again. I undressed, let my breasts jiggle freely, and waited for him. While I lay motionless and examined the carved muscles of his abdomen, my ferocious legs spread open on their own. I said, "I'm prepared.
Smith Mason was an expression of masculinity. His huge expanse of chest appeared to be unnaturally carved, and his rock-solid, bronzed shoulders were strong enough to win Olympic medals. He touched my hungry slit with his lips while gazing at me with primitive eyes. His mouth curled up into a smile in one corner. I understand, Sweetheart.
The term of endearment flittered in the air, sending a melodious vibration through my upper body with its warm wings.
The sound of his voice caused my chest to enlarge and vibrate. I cherished the affection since it was the first time he had used a name other than mine.
Reaching for his wallet, he tugged the boxers over the bloated, thick shaft. He took a foil packet from his pocket and ripped it open.
I couldn't help letting out a gasp as I gawked at the bloated artwork. It was as if I was witnessing it for the first time, but this time I calmed my mind by assuming that since he had beaten me unconscious the day before, it must also apply today. To get ready for what was about to happen, I took a deep breath in.
He applied latex to the ferocious erection before crawling in between my legs to kiss my inner thigh. "Oh, Livia. All of your requests will be fulfilled right away.
He positioned the enormous rod at the bottom of my entrance, causing my stomach to tremble under him.
Smith was a big man, so it took some time for my walls to grow to make room for him. He stretched me to my limit while holding my hand as he pushed the length through the small hole.
My tense body contracted around the sensual male part and narrowed around the width.
I felt his breath on my ear. You challenge me constantly. Let yourself be open to me, my sweetheart.
He was accurate. I cut off his circulation as he attempted to stroke because of years of sexual resentment that had been bottled up. In order to let the enormous man within, I opened my lips to breathe and relaxed the muscles in my pelvis.
He hushed, "Good girl."
In his hands, I was like putty. I couldn't help but lie motionless under him and feel every wave of the slow, deliberate strokes.
Smith's thrusts intensified as he growled in my ear.
My stomach's usual sense of suspense suddenly erupted, and I soon found myself shouting.
We had no remorse as our skin slapped against each other as I pump my hips to his beat. With each pound, the sound of the bed hitting the wall got louder. The stench of sex persisted in the air and hit me square in the nose. I breathed in the seductive aroma of us and resented myself for letting the man into my personal space. After everything he had made me endure, letting him take me was weak-willed, but I was unable to fight.
He delivered an earth-shattering push into me that caused me to lose all sense of reality, and all thinking vanished from my mind. I shrieked as the headboard slammed against the wall and my body erupted into ecstatic joy.
His attention was drawn to my convulsive face. "You're so lovely," I said.
I groaned as my center collapsed, the arousal sending ecstatic shockwaves down my thighs. It was harmonic paradise as I heard him burst into a loud roar.
When Smith reduced the pumping, I started to perspire. His entire body was drenched in sweat. He untangled his legs from mine before rolling up next to me. The only sounds in the room were our exasperated gasps for air. My body had only begun to recover from the intense orgasm. I had to admit it. Smith was a gift from God to sex. He brought me to areas I'd never been and used his deft fingertips to give my body life.
That kind of intimacy may become addictive for women, and if I wasn't careful, I might end up falling for the wrong guy. But since Smith and I both knew where I was in his life, it seemed unlikely that would happen. I was merely his hired sex provider and party companion—his personal escort. There was no use in trying to pass as someone I wasn't.
Sweat beads trickled down his firm chest and down to his flat, bronzed belly. I want to touch the gleaming patch of male skin, curious to see if the flesh was as smooth as it appeared to be. I forced myself to close my eyes. I didn't adore Smith Mason. They would have put me in a straight jacket if I had revealed to anyone other than Lily that I was sleeping with one of the sexiest billionaires alive.
My nose was touched by a finger. He looked at me with a slight frown. "Livia, what are you contemplating?" He frequently referred to me by name, which I heard as a wacky tune. His breath felt like a warm breeze on my skin.
I lied, saying "nothing," not wanting to disclose the specifics of our strange relationship. Even using that name made me seem odd. Nothing about our brief relationship—less than a month—was typical. Since our initial encounter, I had traveled to and through hell. Most guys would have been content with a movie and dinner. Smith was an exhilarating rollercoaster, and each rash moment of lust and emotion left me breathless.
I gave in and caressed his cheek at last. I ran my finger over his mustache and felt the hairs of his beard graze my flesh. I remembered how he drove into me and licked, sucked, and bit my neck, sending a chill down my spine. My cheeks got hot.
He wrapped me in his powerful, encompassing arms as he drew the covers over us.
Shit. At the hospital, Dad was waiting. I sprang to my feet and began to unravel the sheets he had just ironed.
He embraced me more tightly. In my ear, he hissed, "Settle down.
I murmured, trying to get out from under his bulk, "I have to go." "My dad. I'm running behind.
He tightened his hold on my waist. Have I abandoned you?
It was starting to happen every day. I didn't have time to linger and act like we were a couple. What good was hugging when our relationship was one of customer and vendor? In addition, my dad's health came before taking care of the impoverished billionaire's every need. He had to think as I did. "I told him I would be there, but I didn't. I don't go back on my word.
"Ever?" He averted his gaze.
My feet landed firmly on the carpet after I slipped out of his clutches. "Correct."
Swinging one arm across his brow, he sank back into the mattress.
Win.
I looked at the damp underpants after picking up my clothes. I dragged a new pair, sandals, and periwinkle sundress out of the closet. Although I would have liked to stay longer, my dad needs me straight away. All he has is me.
For a little period, Smith went silent. On the heel of his hand, he supported his head. "I have a thought."
I resisted the desire to sneer. The only thing I wanted him to do was get up from my mattress, gather his belongings, and leave through the front door. It was growing hard to keep up with the high-maintenance needs because he was such a pain. I listened while keeping my arms at my sides.
He said, "We'll employ a private nurse to take care of him so you don't have to worry so much.
My lips grew tense. He was now discussing recruiting someone whose employment I would be responsible for managing. It required far too much dedication. "And what occurs when the escort agreement expires? We dismiss the nurse, will we?"
He gave me a harsh look that appeared to be hurt. "What makes you mention that now? Ten minutes ago, we had a lovely moment together. Don't mess it up.
He didn't get how my family ran its business. We were close, but not as close as him and his parents. My father would be frightened if there was a strange, uneasy attendant watching over him. He is my physical being. Why wasn't Smith able to perceive that?
I had some lessons for the millionaire to learn. I raised my chin and crossed my arms over my chest. "You can't just throw money at a problem and hope it gets fixed. I need to be there for my father because I care about him and we get along well.
Okay, so I wasn't quite comfortable with the concept of turning down something that could benefit my dad. It's not like I was medically trained in any way. The other day, when it was time to start CPR, I froze. In addition, I got weary of requesting favors from Lily. Although she made a great best friend, I couldn't take advantage of our relationship. I moved my feet. Although it's a terrific idea, I can't help but wonder whether you're taking on too much for me.
He burst out laughing quickly. "Most girls would have asked for that and more already," she said.
My gut ached and became rigid. Why include other females in the conversation? That was something I needed more than a hole in my hip. no, not them.
"Yes, I see that. My money has been refused by you several times. For the first time, his shoulders drooped. He appeared to be retreating.
I had prevailed in the conflict, but in whose struggle? I recently turned down my father's full-time private medical care. Was I acting foolishly? I soothed my neck's stiff nerves by pressing my fingertips against them.
Why couldn't I just take the money and leave without a care in the world as the others did? My deadliest enemy has become my own mouth and deeds. I was losing control of logic, and I didn't know how to reel it back in using actions or words. What would happen if I resisted his demands for me and my father? I put on my clothes and pulled my hair into a neat bun.
Smith sat on the bed thinking deeply.
I promised to be there whenever you needed me as I tucked some clothes for Dad into a duffel bag. "Then, I'll be on my way. It would be great if you could just lock up. I chimed in, smiling and waving quickly good-bye.
Okay, a part of me thought it would be simple to march out of the house, but the other part knew he would not let me off the hook. In a million years, no.
Before I got there, he got up and headed for the door. He said, "I'll drive you to the hospital," and then he took the bag off my shoulder and walked out of the house.
I followed him outside after giving him a brief period of my attention.