Playing His Games (Billionaire Playboys #4) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire Playboys Series by Tory Baker
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
<<<<456781626>38
Advertisement


“I’ll be there. I can’t guarantee Sly will be, though. We’re not even dating.” I walk to my kitchen. Dinner is calling my name, then a hot shower, some television, a self-induced orgasm or two, and hopefully, I’ll find some sleep.

“Oh, you will. Go relax. I’m wrapping up this email and heading out myself. Call you later. Love you,” Sable says.

“Love you. Give Blaire a hug for me. Bye.” We hang up. I have more questions than answers. Tomorrow is going to come soon enough. Tonight, I’m going to shut my brain off, starting with a crossword puzzle.

FOUR

Sly

“Fuck,” I say to my empty house.

No work was done; holding my concentration while Fawn worked in my office became impossible. I’d read a line or two on the contract in front of me only for my eyes to drift to the woman who has me losing my control. After seeing her in the bathroom with her shirt hanging open, tits wrapped in delicate lace, her soft legs spread open, giving me the room I needed to clean her up, I dampened the washcloth, wanting it to be my hands instead. My cock has been none too happy about it either. Fawn would have allowed me to press for more; it was me who held back. It’s the finest foreplay, making the two of us wait. Heated desire permeated the air while she was working, head bent, hair hanging loosely, that fucking cardigan doing little to nothing in concealing the curve of her breasts. And she thought I’d let her work in the open area. Not on my fucking life. I’d finally get an email drafted, answer another, then I’d be back to looking at Fawn. Her tongue would be out while she was deep in thought, unknowingly making me ache to have my hands back on her pert little body. It was with reluctancy that she let me drive her home. The weather played a role in her hesitation. Her blouse was ruined, hands wrapped in bandages, and a storm was blowing in.

I toss my keys on the kitchen counter, hand going to the knot at my throat from the black tie I put on this morning. Black on black is my usual color when it comes to my custom Italian suits. Meetings or no meetings, this is my usual uniform in and out of the courtroom. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I choose to ignore it, needing a moment to compose myself before I say screw it, grab my keys, get in my Range Rover, and drive right back to my pretty little Doe’s house, where I’d beat my fist on her door until she opens it, barge my way in, hands going to her curvy waist, and pick her up, Fawn wrapping her legs around my waist, opening herself up for my cock to find its home between those thighs of hers. There’s no way I’m going to make it to the shower, not with her scent still filling my nostrils or the feel of her body lingering on my skin. I yank my tie off, go after my belt and buckle, cock hard and at the ready. My hand goes to the counter to steady myself as I wrap my fist around my length. This will be the last time I get off with using Fawn in a fantasy. The one I’m using is from earlier today, her skirt up around her waist, baring her pretty pussy to my eyes, seeing the wetness coating her lips, the air saturated with her desire much like it was earlier today. Her lace bra would be open, the front closure taken care of effortlessly in my haste to feast on nipples that I’ve seen pebbled on more than one occasion.

“Fuck, Doe,” I grunt, using the precum that’s gathered along the head as lube to jack my cock. I’d much prefer it to be Fawn’s mouth or her pussy, tunneling in and out of her tight channel, pulling out to watch as she fists my length, head dipping low in order to suck on the head, being greedy with every drop of my cum while still twisting her palm, sliding it up and down. I toss my head back as a guttural groan rumbles from my chest. Unlike earlier today while in the shower, where my body allowed me to take my time, that’s not happening tonight. My muscles tighten, neck straining, spine locked up, and I’m coming in my Goddamn hand. What I can’t catch splashes onto the marble stone floor. My phone vibrates yet again. No way am I answering what I’m sure is a work call, disheveled as I am, cock still standing at attention as if I didn’t paint the damn kitchen floor moments ago. I’m forty-fucking-four years old, getting off on my own when all I really want is Fawn. Jesus, next time I take her home, I won’t be saying goodbye in the form of light kiss on her forehead. I’ll be in her apartment, my mouth on hers, hand locked behind her head, her hair wrapped around my fingers as I take what I know will be her soft and luscious lips. Given how submissive in nature she is, I know my Doe would melt in my arms. The vibrating finally stops, allowing me the time to wash my hands and clean up my mess while unable to shut my mind down and off the woman who has become the star of my very own porn show, thinking about my cum spray on her tits or slowly leaking out of her pussy, my fingers sinking into her tight heat, forcing my cum to stay exactly where it belongs.


Advertisement

<<<<456781626>38

Advertisement