Claimed By Her Best Friend's Dad Read online

  I smirk as I withdraw my hand. “Still so innocent. Are you trying to say you didn’t know you could squirt like that just by me sucking those big juicy nipples?”

  She bites her lip as lust fires through her at my words and then nods.

  “Well, yeah, pretty much. I mean, I know you rubbed … down there. But it was mostly what you were doing …”

  “Up here?” I banter.

  She leans forward and slaps my arm playfully, causing her breasts to pendulum and bounce in an even more magnetizing fashion. I bite down as my cock gives an insistent throb, telling myself that I can control myself, I can wait.

  I’ve already wasted my seed once by giving in to my desire.

  I should wait.

  And yet as I stare at those round pleasure mounds, I can’t stop.

  Something snaps in me and I stand.

  “What are you doing?” she whimpers.

  “Lean forward and put your hands behind your back,” I tell her, bringing my hand to my belt and swiftly undoing it.

  “What are you going to do?” she whispers, but despite the anxiety warbling in her voice, she does as she’s told and puts her hands behind her back.

  “I’m going to fuck those tits and come all over them,” I snarl. “I want to be strong, but I can’t. Fuck, they’re too juicy. They’re too big.”

  Wide eyed and innocent-as-fuck, she whimpers, “Big in a good way?”

  “In the best way,” I snap. “Now spit on those tits and get them good and wet for me.”

  Her mouth falls open in shock and her eyebrows shoot up, as she sits there, topless, her gorgeous breasts bouncing and ready to be fucked and owned.

  God, she’s mine.

  Mine alone.

  And that will never change.

  “Spit on them?” she murmurs.

  “Yes,” I growl. “Do what you’re told.”

  She looks down slowly and spits a few times, getting them good and slick.

  I yank down my pants and wedge them underneath my overfull balls, my massive cock springing up, precome clinging to the end and glistening in the low light of her room. She gaps at me, her mouth making a perfect O shape, but it’s not her lips I’m interested in right now.

  I grab my base and guide myself to her breasts, and then grab both of them and squeeze the flesh around my throbbing length.

  She stares down as I fuck her tits, moving my hips back and forth, making growling noises with each thrust.

  I squeeze harder, dappling her breasts red as I make her flesh tight around my cock.

  Not as tight as her hot virgin slit will be when I finally slip inside of her, but tight enough to make the veins bulge in my neck and the fiery friction of my cock to start to deafen all my other sensations.

  Faster and faster, I pound those tits, until the computer chair is creaking and whining as it rocks with the motions, back and forth as I do whatever the hell I want with her made-to-fuck tits.

  Minutes go by and I stare down at the sight of them, her hands pinned behind her back because she’s a good sex goddess and does exactly as she’s told.

  “Suck your fingers,” I snarl.

  “Like this?” she moans, bringing her two fingers to her mouth and bobbing her head in motion with my thrusts.

  “Open your eyes w-wide,” I growl.

  She does as she’s told, fucking her own mouth with her fingers as those big greens are wide, staring at me innocently, almost like a deer caught in the headlights as I have my way with her inexperienced big juicy breasts.

  Soon the end of my cock is buzzing like it’s about to explode and I can’t take it anymore.

  “Open your mouth,” I growl. “I’m unloading into those pouting fucking lips. Now, Jade.”

  She lets her hand drop and opens her mouth, and then I take her by the shoulders and push my cock forward, meaning to drive into her mouth and empty my hot seed onto her tongue.

  But at the last second, she brings her hand up and curls it warmly around my shaft, pumping back and forth as she brings her lips to the tip and sucks, and then swirls her tongue around the end.

  I almost roar as my seed pumps hotly up my shaft and explodes onto her tongue.

  She closes her eyes in shock and I expect her to pull away, but a moment later she opens them all sassy, completely taking control of the moment as she twists and pumps the base of my shaft with her hand.

  Her throat shifts as she swallows my seed.

  I stumble back, my cock wilting, my heart thudding so heavily it’s like a drumbeat is coursing through every part of me.

  She runs her tongue over her lips as a crimson blush spreads across her cheeks.

  “I don’t know what came over me then,” she says.

  “I do,” I growl passionately. “Your instincts. They know what to do. And they will know what to do when it’s time for me to shoot my seed into your womb, too. Do you see now, Jade? Your body knows what to do. You don’t have to be nervous.”

  Our eyes meet and for a moment I think she’s going to frown or tell me I’m being stupid.

  But then a bright as the sun smile lights up her face.

  Reality shifts for a moment and I see her smiling in that same way after giving birth, her face lit up with the joy of our children, our future, our life.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jade

  “Okay, now I really feel like I’m in a dream,” I say as Jamie leads me up the private staircase of Chaleur, the most high class restaurant in the city.

  Everybody who lives here has heard of the one-thousand dollar menu and the Gatsby-like décor – with its jazz band and chandeliers and golden glitter seemingly everywhere, but somehow not becoming gaudy for all that – but I’m guessing far fewer people know that there’s a secret staircase that goes up the side of the three story building.

  One wall of the staircase is built of one-way glass, meaning that I can look down on the restaurant and its patrons, the men in suits or tuxedos and the women in their glamorous dresses.

  “Why is this here?” I ask.

  Jamie’s hand slides up my back as we ascend higher and higher.

  I turn to him, struggling to fit this suave CEO with the beast who emerged in the bedroom, his blue eyes turning feral, his lips twisted like a handsome freaking warrior.

  Now he wears his suit casually like armor, a smirk touching his nonchalant lips.

  “The previous owner had it installed for security purposes,” Jamie says. “I didn’t see the sense it having it removed.”

  “Wait, you own Chaleur?” I gasp.

  His smirk tics and light dances playfully in his eyes.

  “Well, yeah,” he says. “Didn’t I mention that?”

  “Um, no,” I giggle, jabbing him playfully in the side.

  “It’s perfect,” he says, as we reach the top of the staircase and head for the gold gilded doors. “Now I get you all to myself. I don’t have to endure a bunch of suited goons staring at you.”

  “Staring at you, you mean,” I say. “I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed of me, Jamie Jensen. It’s like you don’t want the paparazzi seeing Mr. Famous with little old me—Whoah.”

  I let out a little moan when he grabs me by the shoulder and pushes me up against the golden doors, his face turning savage again as he leans in close.

  “It has nothing to do with that,” he snarls. “I don’t give a damn about their opinion. I just want you all to myself. I’ll take you down there right now and proclaim to the whole damn restaurant – the whole world, since people will be recording – that you’re mine and mine alone. I mean it, Jade. Look at me and tell me if I’m lying.”

  I’ve never seen anybody look so certain as he stares at me. Now it’s not like I’m the only woman in the world. It’s like I’m the only woman who’s ever lived, anywhere, as though the very word woman to him means me.

  On a womb-fueled whim, I take his face in my hands and kiss him, hard, tasting the rough sureness of his lips, the way they make me
feel like I belong like nothing else ever has or ever could.

  “I love how confident you’re getting,” he breathes huskily, whispering close to my lips between stolen kisses.

  “I don’t know how,” I admit, my cheeks pricking red. “I just … I don’t know. With you, Jamie – when it’s just the two of us – it’s like I can pretend that I’m somebody else. Or maybe there’s been this person living in me all along and I’ve always been too nervous to let her out and …”

  I let go of his strong jaw and throw my hands up.

  “Does any of this make sense?”

  “Yes,” he growls. “You’ve been waiting for me just like I’ve been waiting for you.”

  He takes my hand and opens the gold gilded doors for me, presenting a private dining area that overlooks the Chaleur properly. The floor is quite bare, a massive statement in a city where real estate prices are so high. A single table and chair sit in the center of the room, elegant crystalline furniture that catches the light and reflects it back at us. A clouded glass vase sits on the table, holding a rose so that the stem is partially visible through the material.

  “It looks like something out of a fairytale,” I murmur.

  Jamie strides over to the table and pulls my chair out of me, smirking warmly.

  “That’s fitting,” he says, “because you’re my princess, my queen, my…”

  “Empress?” I offer with a giggle, loving how we can slip into our banter despite everything.

  “Does that make me an emperor?” he smirks as I take my seat.

  He walks around the table and sits opposite me, looking huge at the relatively minimalist table, like a giant come to dinner with a regular sized human, completing the fairytale theme.

  “I think you’ve been an emperor for a long time,” I say.

  “How so?” he asks.

  “Well, you’re a billionaire, so there’s one. Also, I’ve watched some of your MMA fights online. So you’re a king of the cage, too …”

  “And now I’m your king,” he teases. “Maybe you should curtsey to me every time we see each other.”

  I giggle and I’m about to reach across the table to give him a playful slap – one of my favorite things to do since it means I get to feel his hard muscles – when the waiter appears as if from nowhere.

  He wears a suit and an expression of neutral detachment, as though he’s trying his best not to intrude on our scene. Being a waitress myself, I smile a broad thank you to him when he places our menus down on the table, and I manage to get a small smile back.

  I turn to find Jamie staring at me, an intense quality in his summer sky eyes, as though a storm is coming.

  I swallow as nerves lance through me, wondering if Jamie thinks I was flirting with the waiter, wondering if I’ve just gone and ruined our first real date before it’s even really started.

  Or could it just be the same intensity that captures his expression every time he looks at me?

  “Can I get you some drinks to start, sir, madam?” the waiter asks.

  “We’ll take some non-alcoholic champagne, thank you,” Jamie says, with a brisk nod.

  The waiter retreats with a nod of his own and I’m left with that swirling uncertainty in my belly as I turn back to Jamie.

  Jamie tilts his head at me and his eyes take on that perceptive quality, as though he’s looking through me and directly to my hidden emotions.

  “Is something wrong?” he asks.

  “That’s funny,” I murmur. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because … Well, I sort of thought you were angry at me for smiling at the waiter.”

  “What?” he laughs grimly. “Why the fuck would I be angry with you?”

  “Some guys get like that, don’t they?” I say. “Not that I have much experience, but still …”

  “Jade,” he growls. “Men who get angry at their women for smiling at another man aren’t real men at all. I know you’re mine in every sense of the word. You belong to me. So you can smile and be friendly as much as you want. I’m the one who gets that curvy body all to myself. I’m the one who gets your creativity and your smile and everything else that makes you, you. It’s all mine.”

  He reaches across the table, past the glass vase, and takes my hand in his. I squeeze tightly, holding him as though he’s the anchor that will stop me from drifting off into the sea of anxiety that perpetually hounds me wherever I go.

  The waiter brings the drinks and Jamie raises his glass in a toast.

  “To us, and our future, and our children,” he declares.

  “To us,” I say, raising my glass with his and then taking a sip of the champagne.

  I swallow hard when I realize that a burp is trying to creep up my throat and erupt out of my mouth. I feel Jamie’s eyes on me, probably wondering just what the heck I’m doing. That just makes it worse.

  I cover my mouth and turn away, making an ugly, shaky sound as the burp half-escapes from me.

  “Oh, God,” I say afterward. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jamie smirks and reaches over, giving my hand another squeeze.

  “Princess, you could burp and fart all night long and I’d still want you just as badly. I’m not interested in any fake ideal of what a woman is. I’m interested in you. I’m still going to fuck you like you deserve later.”

  “Later?” I whimper.

  He flinches, sitting back.

  “Not necessarily later this evening,” he snaps.

  “No,” I whimper. “I was just … I was thinking that… you know, I think I might be able to do that. But …”

  “But what?” he says, sitting forward, his whole being aimed toward me now that I’ve introduced the idea of him taking my virginity tonight into the equation.

  “But you need to be prepared for it not to work,” I say.

  “What do you mean, not to work?” he asks.

  I give him an are-you-kidding-me look, willing him to understand that I’m talking about his manhood not fitting inside of me.

  Something clicks in his mind and he gives a short nod.

  “Oh, that,” he says.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Do you think I’ll give a damn?” he snarls. “Having you naked and in the finest hotel suite this city has to offer is enough for me.

  “I am going to fuck that virgin pussy, but if what you’re so sneakily alluding to does happen …”

  I giggle and his smirk tics, and for a brief instant, I imagine him smirking that same way as he sits at the head of our family dinner table, the proud alpha leader of our family.

  “If it does happen,” he goes on, “you’ll just have to agree to do whatever the hell I tell you that doesn’t involve that. Your tits, your ass, your cunt … I’ll take them in every way I can.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my panties getting hot and wet again, my thighs tingling. “But won’t you be angry?”

  “Jade,” he growls, so loudly that I flinch back as though he’s going to leap across the table and claim me right here. “The only thing that makes me angry is you not realizing how beautiful and sexy you are. Like I said—be naked, be willing, be mine, and nothing you do will ever make me angry.”

  I let out a shivering sigh, squeezing my thighs together, my hole fluttering, and my womb snapping at me that this is all moot, anyway.

  When the time comes, I’ll be ready.

  That’s what my womb says.

  But I’m not sure I believe her.

  “We also need to talk about this waitressing situation,” he says.

  “What situation?” I ask.

  Now it’s his turn to give me an are-you-kidding-me look. He stares at me firmly for a few moments and then sighs.

  “You should be writing full-time, Jade,” he says. “I’ve read your work and it’s incredible—”

  “Wait, you read my work?” I ask.

  He nods. “I read the stories that appeared in those short story collections online,”
he says. “They were emotional, sincere, well written … they were, Jesus, Jade, they were amazing. You’ve got real talent.”

  “But I don’t want to be a sponge,” I whisper. “Why should I get a free pass to follow my dreams when so many other people don’t?”

  “Because you’re my woman,” he snarls passionately. “It was different when Yasmin made the offer. But you’re going to be the mother of my children. You belong to me. And the best thing for you – and readers everywhere – is to focus on your talent.”

  “It’s just that …”

  I sigh, blinking back the tears that rise unbidden to my eyes.

  “What, Jade?” he asks quietly, expression flooded with acceptance and…

  No, a voice hisses. Not love. Don’t say, love.

  Maybe things are moving fast between us – and maybe fast is an understatement – but if I just blurted out the L-word, I bet he’d flip this table over and get the heck out of here as quickly as he could.

  “Jade?” he urges, when I fall silent.

  “My dad always taught me not to take handouts,” I murmur. “My mom died in childbirth and I’ve always felt so guilty, Jamie—”

  “That’s not your fault,” he growls firmly.

  “Yeah, I know that,” I sigh. “But there’s a difference between knowing it and feeling it.”

  He stands up and pulls his chair around the table, sitting next to me and putting his arm around my shoulder, hugging me close. It’s only when his strong hand comes to rest on my bare arm that I realize I’ve failed at holding back my tears.

  I sob softly, leaning against him.

  “I’m ruining our dinner,” I moan.

  “By being human? By being yourself? No, Jade, you’re not ruining anything.”

  “I told my dad I’d never take handouts,” I cry. “It was so important to him.”

  “I understand,” Jamie says. “I won’t push you to leave the waitressing job if it’s going to hurt you. But you’re just so damn talented, and you deserve the space to work on that talent. It’s not a handout, because you’re going to be paying me back with our children, with our closeness … and with that fine-as-fuck body of yours. And you’re going to be working, Jade, just working on what you want to do.”