Page 58 of Model Billionaire

“My mother. And there was one tear. It rolled down her cheek, and I wanted to catch it, keep it forever. I was just a stupid kid.” He shakes his head as tears fall. “And Pops ripped me away from her. I fought him. Screamed and screamed until my throat was raw, then he smacked me across the face and said, ‘Be a man. She’s dead.’ And tossed me out of the room. Pretty much every talk with my Pops growing up went like that.” He won’t look me in the eyes, but at least he’s talking. I let him go on.

“I want to make my family proud, despite their flaws. That matters to me. I don’t get along with most of my siblings, but I love them. I love my family, and I’d do anything for them, but modeling… modeling is for me. It’s my one thing. The one thing that brings me satisfaction outside my family's business.” He looks up when he realizes he’s still going on.


“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head.

I should leave. I know I should. This can only lead to us getting closer in ways that will pull me further away from my goals–but I’m already losing the battle as I lean in, cupping his face in my hands as I kiss away the tears that started to fall. “Don’t be,” I whisper. Because I’m probably about as emotionally stunted as he is, because the only way I can think of to show him how I feel is with my body, I reach for his hand and bring it to my breast, pressing it there as I kiss him.

He groans, his entire body vibrating with it, and he reaches down, picking me up and carrying me towards the bathtub. I slide down his body, still kissing him as the passion heats between us, rising sharply as our hands grab at each others’ clothes, wanting our naked bodies pressed against one another.

This is what we need. What we require right now. I know it will make all of our pain go away because it always does when we fuck. That’s a dangerous medicine— him and me desperately using one another for release. I want to be that for him, though. I want to take his pain with only the tips of my fingers or the warmth of my skin. I don’t have time to question why this is because he’s pulling us into the bath, and I have no choice but to follow.



We’re fucking again, in the hot bath, candles surrounding us as a source of light and the moon shining in through the window above. I won’t pretend that I didn’t just fall apart in front of Lydia. Can’t ignore that because it happened. I’ve never called apart like that in front of a woman— or anyone for that matter. Gotta fuck the memory out of my system, and she’s the perfect outlet.

Her wet curves sway in the water as I caress her skin and suck on her nipples as I guide her hips to mine, just wanting to be inside her tight pussy. She feels remarkable, always has. I hate fucking a woman more than once, but I would fuck Lydia Royce over and over again in one night if she’d let me— and she usually does.

She moans as I enter her, hands curl around my shoulders as she steadies herself. I let out a breath drenched in pleasure, and her face drops to mine as we sway in the lavender bath, rising and falling with the motions we’re creating with our bodies.

I grab her waist, hands trail down it to her tight ass as I moan. She continues to fuck me, hard and fast, and I let her. Enjoy the view of her perky breasts bouncing in front of me as she steadies herself and rises to catch a breath. I can feel us build just as she slows, and I know she thinks I’ll stop her from fucking me till the end, but I don’t. I want to come with her on top of me. Want to hear her moans echo throughout the bathroom as I pleasure her as intensely as she’s pleasuring me.

“Don’t stop.” I pull her back to me, her wet breasts touching my bare chest as I thrust into her. She moans and grips me tighter, roughly kissing my lips as she begins to thrust again. All I see is her in the dark light of the candles and the steam of the water rising around her. Every shadow, every highlight, every look in her eyes, I want to remember this. She rises once more, determination growing over her pink cheeks as she grabs the edge of the bath just above my head. She proceeds to fuck me so hard I have to hold on to the tub to keep from slipping under the water.

I moan her name as I watch her body move, such beauty I’m caught up in it, allowing it to lift me until I know I’m about to come in her.

I should stop and get a condom, but I can’t bear to pull out. “Are you on birth control?” I ask her, groaning it against her lips like it’s something sexual, and when she nods, I could cry with happiness from the pleasure I’m about to get.

Taking her word for it is a stupid thing to do, but I’m so high on our shared pleasure I don’t care. She moans my name, and she could have said no, and I’d probably have still filled her so full of my cum she’d taste it tomorrow morning.

Lydia’s back arches, her hips grinding, and I fall over the edge with her, my cum filling her pussy in the best fucking orgasm of my entire life. I’ve never come inside a woman bare before, never felt her hot walls squeezing me without a thin layer of latex between us, and I want to tell her. I don’t because I don’t want it to seem like more than it is, even if it’s the greatest fucking pleasure of my entire life.

I come so hard and so long that I wonder if I’ve broken some kind of record. My cock is still pulsing with the last drops when she starts to ride me again, and I’m gripping her hips to slow her down.

As she stops, I pull her onto my chest, giving us a break before we fuck again because I can’t just fuck this woman once. She’s too fucking hot, and we’re too fucking good at pleasing one another. This unspeakable bond between us might have something to do with it. It really does feel like gravity, and somehow we’re two halves of a whole, pulling into one another until we create a new universe entirely our own.

Fucking her does that, explodes like the beginning of something and the end of another. I don’t quite know what that is or what that means for us, but all I know is I won’t be fucking her just once. Poetry and synonyms aside, Lydia is in for the night of her life. If she thought the last few weekends did something for her, she’s in for a reality-bending awakening.

“You never let me fuck you till the end like that.” She whispers, like she could read my thoughts from earlier. I let out a chuckle and brush back her wet hair from her face.

“I know you like control.”

“So do you.” She pokes my chest.

“Touchè.” She tilts her head up to look into my eyes, and I offer a weak smile.



“Why’d you let me?” I look up to the ceiling and see the steam rising from the tub and the absence of Lydia’s naked body.

“Because every time I take a bath from now on, I’ll see the steam and think about it swirling around her body— your fucking perfect body. And I’ll get off to you.” I feel her jaw drop at my honesty.

“You’re lying.” She finally says.

Tags: Sophia March Billionaire Romance
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