My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend
Chapter 17

Izzy

I’m lifted off the ground in the midst of our k**s, something so fiery about a moment with this man when seconds ago I couldn’t stand the sight of him. He thinks I’m selfish looking out for myself, but he’s not seeing the bigger picture here. I have to do something, or I’ll drown when this tidal wave comes and goes and takes Alek down under the surface.

So why does it matter? Why do I care what he thinks?

I don’t, but I love the way he touches my body and roams his palms all over my exposed skin. I drop the flash drive in the mix of our endless k**s, focused only on trying to get some air while his arms pull from under my a*s, rolling my skirt up to expose my thighs.

“Ah,” I gust, my a*s nearly bare as Dimitri sets me down on the edge of the desk, the feeling overwhelming. I can’t help but shiver in his hold as he pins me close, his fingertips undoing my bra through my shirt while I’m focused on his tedious belt. “What are we doing?”

He lifts his lips from the spot on my neck that he seems to be focusing on with the help of his teeth. “We’re being frustrated with one another.”

“Is this the best way to duke it out then?”

“It’s all I got,” he adds, pulling my shirt and bra off over my head. One hand replaces my breast, the other clings to the back of my hair, pulling my head up to his vantage point. I stare up into his daunting gaze, lost in the maze of a man that I’ll never understand. “You got any better ideas?”

I can only shrug, my legs instinctively wrapping around the backs of his thighs to pull him in close to me. “Not really.”

“Good. I like my idea, anyway.”

I am inclined to agree, the feeling of his h**s writhing into mine is nearly enough to set me off. I oblige in his plan to be angry with him though, clutching the hem of his pants hungrily in my curled fist and holding him close.

“Go for it, Kitten,” he says between sucking k****s to my exposed nipples. “Take it off.”

I am already undoing his button before the words are said. I flick his zipped down next, my hand taking instant hold of the e******n that waits beneath. I clutch him in my palms, feeling him growl and snarl against the plane of my chest. It’s enough to make my b***d warm, and my face burning hot, but I ignore the embarrassment for now.

“I hope you’re ready,” he mumbles, his teeth rolling over my nipple suddenly.

“Ah, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to let my frustrations out,” he says simply. “I suggest you do the same to me.”

I smile at the thought, still furious with this man but he’s so damn attractive and dominant that I can’t help but bend when he blows his wind at me. It’s like I’m stuck in the middle of a revolving door of choices.

Right now, the only thing on my list is what I want, and Dimitri’s name is pretty high on that list.

I lean forward, throwing everything I have behind me and abandoning it like a sunken ship. My apprehensiveness drowns at once, my mouth taking in the long, damning length of a man that I partially can’t stand, but one that I care about more than I’d ever admit out loud.

He m***s alive with the sensation like he didn’t expect it at first. I try not to smile through the process of filling my throat with his c**k, my head in the realm of trying not to gag while my body is somewhere on the edge of pleasure and salacious adventure.

I stroke my tongue up the bottom of his shaft with every thrust of his h**s, the rhythm of his body changing significantly as he stands straight, keeping one hand on my breast to twitch his fingers against my nipple. It’s enough of a shock to my system that I m**n against his c**k with every pinch, trying to focus on my task when he makes it impossible.

Warmth puddles between my thighs on the desk, and I think he knows I’m wet with the thoughts of what’s next, but I want to do this first job with overwhelming justice. He makes it a point to lean into my mouth, controlling the speed and the rhythm of which he thrusts into my tongue.

“Oh, Kitten,” he mutters, fighting back the sensation of coming into my mouth. “You’re not getting away from this that easily, though.”

Before I can ask what he means, he plucks himself out of my mouth and tips my chin upright, kissing me deeper than I imagined possible. His tongue swipes across my cheek and against my teeth, choking me more than his rod had just a minute earlier.

When he backs up, he pushes me down at the same time, forcing me to land on my back against the desk. I hiccup in shock, expecting his lips to replace their way to my drenched, throbbing clit, but they don’t. His hands flip me over, my feet replaceing the floor once again, and he manages to undo my skirt with one hand, the other clutching my thong like a threat.

“What are you—” I start, abruptly cut off by the smack of his free hand against my a*s. “Ouch!”

“You’re so damn cute when you purr for me, Kitten.”

“That wasn’t a purr, that actually hurt, Dimitri!”

“Good.” He does it again, and I know now he’s taunting me on purpose. When I flinch at the heat that now stings my a*s, he grips me by the thong harder, preventing me from pulling away at the slightest inch. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

“Where is this coming from?” I hiss. “You were so calm and easy before. Now you’re spanking me!”

“You were crying last time, and I couldn’t possibly make matters worse, now, could I?”

I swallow his words and try not to regurgitate them later. “Yeah, that’s true, I guess.”

“So, you understand,” he hums.

His hand replaces the plane of my a*s for a third time, each one undoubtedly leaving a print on my skin that probably outlines his fingers in pink. I want to tap out and see how he likes being smacked for once, but I’m not going to deny the heat of this moment. It’s pretty hot, and certainly a little naughty for my taste.

I like it, but he doesn’t slap my a*s again.

Instead, my thong is pulled sideways, and his c**k shifts between my pinched thighs, bringing his girthy length to the helm of my clit in order to pump inside of my v****a with a piston-like power. I arch my a*s into the air slightly, my back bent inward to make up for the length that enters into my p***y.

I’m beyond wet and welcoming for that entrance. He feels it, too.

“F**k, Kitten. You’re so wet.”

“You’re not the only one with a wild streak I guess,” I pant, feeling my body naturally rock backward into his h**s. It’s adding a level of pressure neither of us saw coming, and I shake with my first entrance into a blissful fall. “F**k, Dimitri. It’s so… it’s almost too much to…”

“Take it, Kitten.”

“Yes, please.”

We both melt into the first of many orgasmic and albeit rough, moments together. I don’t want to even think about anything else with him pressured between my legs right now, and the thought of arguing with him is long gone by now.

He makes it his priority to reach around my thigh and massage my clit, my body finally standing upright enough to press my back into his warm, bare chest. I can’t recall when his shirt was yanked off now, but it’s on the floor nearby, and forgotten about it.

His hands slide up my chest, holding me against him while he still manages to thrust deep inside of me, deeper now than possibly ever before. It’s painful in some ways, but it’s still far more pleasurable than anything I’m used to.

And that’s just it, perhaps.

I’m used to walking away and letting things die when they’re done. I’m used to untied, loose ends and frustration mounting in my chest without a hint of ever addressing it. We may not be spewing our differences out right here, but that’s not what we should be doing.

We should be doing this, making one another feel very, very good, and if that takes some sweaty, rough s*x, then I’ll happily bend back over to give him better access, and keep this up all night long if possible.

And so, like my wish has come true, that’s exactly what we do.