CHAPTER SIX
Beth
I stumbled and almost fell over getting out of the big black town car. The chauffeur leaned forwards just in time to grab my hand, preventing an embarrassing fall.
“Are you all right, Miss?” His brown eyes were kind.
I blushed.
“Yes, thank you.”
Because it was like I was just learning to walk again. Or to walk properly after my mind-blowing orgasm with Mr. Carlton in his office. My legs were trembling and shaky, like a newborn foal, and the slick juices between my thighs felt so strange. I’d never come so hard before, shrieking like a crazy woman.
Oh my god. I still couldn’t believe the things Mr. Carlton did to me. He was so powerful. So commanding and massive. Even though the billionaire was masculine and elegant in those suits he wore so perfectly, no way did I think someone like him—controlled and rich—could make me feel that way, like I was spiraling off into the heavens, losing touch with reality. He’d tongued my pussy until I swear I saw colors that didn’t exist, shapes with no form. The clamp of his big hands on my thighs had made shivers of delight run all through my body as he held me open at the mercy of his mouth.
It felt so good.
Too good.
I stammered my thanks again to the chauffeur and tried to stand on my own two feet, wobbling still.
“Thank you so much for the ride,” was my quiet murmur.
And the chauffeur nodded cheerily.
“You’re welcome, miss. At your service.” He tipped his hat before pulling slowly out into rush hour traffic, disappearing into a swarm of brightly colored cars.
Meanwhile, I stood in front of my apartment building feeling like a new person. New and yet utterly confused because the check from Mr. Carlton was practically burning a hole in my pocket.
He gave me money. For touching and eating my pussy.
And I let him do it.
I screamed and cried out, writhing with ecstasy as his tongue buried itself in me.
What does that make me?
What does that say about me?
Could people tell?
But evidently not because no one walking by even glanced my way. That’s the way the Bronx is sometimes, everyone looking down as they scurry past, eyes on the sidewalk or playing some game on their phone.
But me, I was different. Juices ran down my thigh and everything was sticky in a good way. The dampness beneath my breasts, the heat under my arms. And oh god, the warmth, still burning like a flame deep within my cunt, flickering with life.
What do I do now?
How should I proceed?
Carefully, that was clear. One step at a time, I clutched my bag over my shoulder and crossed the busy sidewalk, wobbling unsteadily. With my key, I unlocked the main door then started the long trudge to the fifth floor.
Every step up emphasized the wetness between my legs, warm and sticky. I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and breathing in, savoring the wind from a small window in the stairwell. Because Mr. Carlton was all I could think about. I wanted to stay longer with him. I wanted him to do more to me. And I knew he wanted more.
But I’d been such a dunce! Running out like a scared virgin, someone who’s never seen dick before. Practically screaming, grabbing all my clothes and dashing to the door. It was embarrassing, so humiliating. And yet, that’s what happened.
Because Mr. Carlton hadn’t been nervous at all. With those bright blue eyes fixed to my curves, he wiped my juices off his chin with the back of his hand, and then sprawled back on a chair.
“You taste good,” came that deep voice. His eyes pinned me in place and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. “So good that I’m gonna need seconds.”
My eyes flicked down to his crotch. A giant ridge pressed through his slacks. Could it --? Did he want --? It was so big that it frightened me, but excitement coursed through my frame as well. Would it hurt when he put it in me? Even if it did, I was sure it’d be amazing. After all, this was a man who knew what he was doing, with magic at his fingertips.
Confident.
Powerful.
Aroused.
I wanted him to take me, right then, right there.
And the more I looked, the bigger the bulge in his pants seemed to get. His eyes were hungry and wild as he stared between my legs, the pink folds still trembling, dripping hotly onto the chair. For sure I thought he was getting ready to take my virginity. I was scared, but excited too. Opening my legs, unconsciously my body beckoned.
But he didn’t do any of that.
“That’s enough of the lesson today, Beth,” came that smooth growl. With gentle hands, the CEO slowly pushed my thighs back together and helped me sit up. My bare ass squeaked against the leather of the chair as I slipped and slid in my own cum. That smirk got deeper. “It was a good lesson, sweetheart. Very informative. Thank you, baby girl, well done.”
The way he called me “baby girl” and “sweetheart” made my heart flutter.
And the big man was tempted definitely. He looked me up and down, eyes caressing my breasts, sliding to the vee between my thighs.
Take me, I silently begged, legs spreading on their own once more, everything going hot. Please, yes.
What was he waiting for?
I was ready and willing, wasn’t that obvious?
But this wasn’t the time because with a sudden movement, he turned and quickly started to pack up my books, shoving them into my bag.
What? What was wrong? Didn’t Mason want me anymore?
I scrambled off the chair and grabbed my skirt because it was the closest thing. Hands trembling with rejection, my legs slid through the opening. But when I went to pick up my panties off the floor, Mr. Carlton beat me to it. The billionaire scooped the lace into one big hand, lifting them to his nose before licking the crotch.
Holy fuck.
Do alphas do that?
Was this a scene from some porn flick?
I gasped, eyes goggling.
But Mason wasn’t bothered at all. He grinned, shooting a sly smile my way.
“Tastes sweet, baby girl. Real sweet. I think I’ll keep these. Until next time, little girl.”
Next time? My heart thumped with a mixture of joy and shock. He wanted a next time with me? What the hell? What the hell?
Oh god, yes.
The billionaire grinned knowingly then.
“Let’s say tomorrow. Same time and place?” he quirked an eyebrow, like I had a choice. “Right now, a car is waiting downstairs to take you home. So scoot, sweet thing. Don’t make them wait.”
And like a dazed angel, I left, floating on clouds, my feet moving of their own accord.
Because what just happened?
Oh my god, was that really me?
The slutty girl?
It all took place over an hour ago, and yet I was still quivering.
But this was no dream. In a daze, I stumbled to the couch and pulled out Mr. Carlton’s check from my skirt pocket.
Three thousand dollars.
I’d never seen that much money before. The check so light in my hand, ephemeral really. How could this represent three thousand dollars? My fingers traced over the pricey, cream colored paper. Even Mason’s signature looked expensive, precise and elegant.
Was this real? I mean yes, of course, the check was real.
But more importantly, did that really happen? And was I going in for seconds tomorrow?
Because Mason Carlton can get any woman he wants. Virgin or not. All he has to do is crook a finger and smile, ladies swoon in an instant. So why me?
My hands trembled and the check fluttered between my fingers like some kind of trapped bird. Was I a whore now? Did whores like what they did? Maybe secretly, deep inside?
Thoughts swirled through my brain, a haze of colors that were beautiful, yet made no sense.
Because why would the billionaire want someone like me?
Why would he crave my curvy body, and ask me back again?
Surely, it wasn’t to learn about virginity.
That made no sense.
And yet … it hadn’t felt wrong. Not in my heart of hearts.
Yes, Mason gave me money. But with him, the contact was like electricity humming through my entire body. I felt alive and sexy with the billionaire, every cell on fire. I didn’t think it was possible. Not with the way I was raised.
Suddenly, the past crashed into my thoughts like a cannonball going through a brick wall. Oh god, my past. My body slumped into the sofa, the jolt of adrenaline gone.
Because my father would think I was crazy for doing any of this. He raised me to be chaste and pure, all a part of his evangelical upbringing.
He would hate me now, for sure, because my mom ran off with another man when I was a baby and left him broken hearted and angry. And as a result, I was supposed to know nothing about sex. Nothing. Nada. When sex ed class rolled around in junior high, I was excused per my father’s demands. George White wanted nothing of the kind for his daughter.
So everything I found out about sex, I learned from reading romance novels, as silly as that sounds. Yes, from Fabio and my imagination, maybe with a bit of porn thrown in. My father didn’t want anything to do with teaching me the facts of life. George probably figured I’d be just like mom and run off with the first big dick that could satisfy me. That’s what he said anyway on one of those drunken nights when he sobbed out mom’s name while clutching a cheap bottle of booze, slumped on our living room couch.
But there is a god. Because when I was eighteen and about to graduate from high school, my father found a woman who rocked his world. And with Lynne, George turned into a different guy overnight.
Adventurous. Happy. Understanding. Off the bottle.
Suddenly, he wanted to tell me about the birds and the bees and that it was okay to have certain urges. But by then it was too late. I was already me, shy and curvy, almost afraid to talk to boys.
But George is living the happy life now. Last time I talked to my dad on the phone, he and Lynne were having hot tantric sex in India someplace. He offered to pay my plane fare to come for a visit, but that idea was just too bizarre. Really? I mean, I want to be respectful, I really do. I want to honor my dad’s beliefs, and it’s not like he’s committing crimes or anything.
But seriously, getting naked with some wizened old guru watching? Evaluating your body parts while trying to bring out the chakra within? It was just too bizarre. So I declined, respectfully of course.
But now I’m the only eighteen year-old virgin on Earth, and real shy to boot, clutching romance novels to my breast.
It’s sad, if you think about it.
Really depressing, the chubby girl living in her own, made-up dream world.
I wasn’t even like some of the slutty girls in my high school, taking it up the butt and giving blow jobs just to keep their hymen. I kind of envied them in a way, but not enough to offer my ass or mouth to some guy just because he took me to prom. No way.
And guys at school were interested in me, to some extent. Gross guys, the kind who are unshaven and unwashed, wearing dirty plaid shirts. And when they figured out I was a virgin, they offered me the same deal. Keep my hymen and let them own my ass or come in my mouth. But that was so wrong to me. You either are or aren’t a virgin.
I never liked cheating.
So yeah, I’m untouched. Unspoiled. Un-just about everything, if you think about it.
It’s a bad way to be.
All the other girls at school are with their boyfriends, or at least hooking up on weekends. Meanwhile, I’m all alone, at home studying or working my job.
Except now things are gonna change.
Just remembering the things Mr. Carlton did to me made me go warm inside.
Open wide sweetheart.
Fuck, you’re sexy.
I have to taste.
With one kiss between my legs, Mr. Carlton blew my world away. He was nothing like those pimply adolescent boys in high school who thought they were so great. He’s so much better than them. A magnetic and compelling alpha male with bright blue eyes that could make me do anything.
I wanted to do anything for him.
Anything and more. More of his mouth between my legs. More of his amazing blue eyes on me. More of everything he wanted to give.
And tomorrow at five o’ clock, I’m gonna get it.
Shivering with anticipation, I pressed my thighs together and caressed the smooth paper of the check. Maybe tomorrow I would finally get to touch him. Maybe tomorrow he would do more than just taste my virginity.
My pussy leaked then.
Whatever he had in mind for us tomorrow … the answer was yes.