BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 3
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Authors: Jenn Marlow
BREATHE
Part Three
Jenn Marlow
Copyright © 2015
All Rights Reserved
. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I hated to curse…
But…
FUCK
.
I had fallen in love with a man that was
fucking
dying. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I could go on forever but never reach enough expletives to fully reflect how terrible it all felt. And how stupid I was…
I should have known better. I shouldn’t have let my guard down.
Not for him.
The thing about it that screwed me up the most, was that I didn’t even realize that I was doing it. He was attractive, sure, but that had no merit on anything; and it certainly didn’t make me fall for him. He was attractive before, but I couldn’t stand him.
I wasn’t sure where it turned all around.
It almost seemed like it happened all at once.
“I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to make it back,” he said, shaking me from my thoughts. He breathed in a low, deep breath before finally falling to the comfort of his large four-poster bed.
I had finally gotten him to agree to go to the bedroom to get some rest. I swear, it was like getting a toddler in bed at a decent time, and I couldn’t really understand why. I would have killed to be in bed after the day we had together—and you’d think, with the doctor’s appointment, that he would have had it a lot worse than I had; and therefore be thankful to fall to the glorious entrapment of his bed.
But nothing seemed to bring him down—at least not fatigue. His overall emotions…those could easily be brought down, take any day at work as an example. There, his emotions were all over the place. However, he never seemed tired, never ready to lay down.
“I have a surprise for you in the bathroom,” he said and giggled, lifting his head up off the pillow. And although I knew that I shouldn’t have investigated because I knew that he needed sleep, I couldn’t help myself.
I had to see what it was.
My walk was slow, but determined. Truthfully, I was a little hesitant. I was going into this man’s en suite bathroom for a “surprise”, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell it could possibly be.
But just as I rounded the corner and crossed over the threshold, I saw it.
It was a lavender-colored lace nighty… a sexy nighty.
I smiled, standing sideways in the doorway and leaned against it, in the sexiest way that I could muster.
I couldn’t believe I was wearing a nighty for him. A very sexy nighty at that…
Especially one that he had picked out.
Hell, it did barely anything to cover my body.
And I could do nothing but watch him as he took the sight of me in. I could tell that he was contemplating me, contemplating what he wanted to do to me.
And truth be told, I was doing the same for him—although I knew I shouldn’t have. He was sick, tired, and had been through a multitude of treatments. I should have just made him go to sleep; I shouldn’t have been contemplating feeding his fantasies.
I should have been more responsible.
But I was contemplating it; and I wasn’t being responsible.
Because dammit, I knew that night that I loved him…
I wanted to make love. For the first time.
I didn’t want the only sex that we had together to be in a negative connotation.
“Come here,” he whispered from his spot on the bed, and I had to wonder if he really was more tired than he let on.
However, I obeyed.
Giggling a little, I moved off of the doorway and towards the large four-poster bed. I didn’t say anything about the garment; I thought it best just to work it. As soon as I reached the edge of the bed, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
I felt my weight jolt and my stomach lurch as I fell down on top of him. We laughed in unison. “Jeez, clumsy girl,” he said and snickered, just before kissing my neck lightly, tenderly, lovingly even.
I pulled back and smiled at him. “You pulled me…” I sighed, lifting myself up off of him so that I was standing once again.
“My mistake,” he said, just before lazily lifting himself up off the bed. “I should have come to you.”
He moved in closer to me again, grabbing my hand just as he did before, but this time he pulled me more gently to him so that the only collapse was our emotional walls collapsing around us as our bodies collided in unison.
His beauty danced brightly, even in the dim light of the room, and his eyes glistened as they looked upon mine. I wanted nothing more than to grab him and kiss him over and over and over again, but I didn’t have to.
He leaned in, and instantly his lips brushed against mine until sparks flew from every pore in my body. I moaned into him, as we deepened the kiss, until it turned into a tongue-dueling battle, fueled by far more than just lust.
He grabbed my breasts and soothed them gently, as he caressed them tenderly, yet firmly, with his palms.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said and sighed, his lips leaving mine. He bit his lip with an almost lustful want. However, I could tell that it wasn’t lust. It was
far
from that. And I smiled at the realization that it wasn’t just me falling; that it wasn’t just me that wanted something more…
But then, as if he also realized what was happening, he spoke. “Wait,” he whispered, halting his movements. His eyes glistened up at me, and I could tell that something was wrong. “I shouldn’t have started this.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, startled by his quick change in demeanor.
“The nighty…” he groaned. “I shouldn’t be asking this of you.”
“What are you asking of me?” I asked.
He looked down to the floor, his shoulders rising and falling, his breath hitching. “I don’t want this to hurt you.” And I could tell as soon as the words left his mouth, that he wasn’t talking about the sex; he was talking about the emotions behind it. “I’m going to die, Zoe.”
A tear fell from my eyes, and I could tell that he, too, was crying. I hated hearing him say it; and although I knew it was probably true, I didn’t want to think about it. And besides that, it didn't change how I felt.
“Then I guess we better make the most of it,” I whispered, my breath ragged as I combed my fingers through his hair. He looked up at me with a defeated gaze, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I love you,” he said, pitifully.
All I could do was nod in response before he enveloped me in a hug.
The embrace was strong, full of desperation.
“Are you sure?” he asked, holding me tightly.
I nodded over his shoulder just before he pulled away, smiling.
We looked into one another’s eyes for a moment, and I felt incredibly goofy with how giddy it was all making me. The feeling of fluttering within my stomach really did feel like butterflies as I continued to look into the eyes of the man I used to think held nothing but cruel emptiness. Instead of the abyss that I used to think I saw when I looked into his eyes, I saw the window to a soul that could make my life complete.
I shuddered. The thought of it was almost too much to handle; it was all too overwhelming to think about. So instead of thinking any more about emotions, I thought of him and what my body was telling me to do to him.
And then I thought of my nighty, my incredibly inappropriate nighty. The bottom of it hugged my hips lightly and began to ride up; it definitely wasn’t meant to sleep in. Not really. It was clearly used for aesthetic purposes only, and I had to seriously applaud his gumption in buying something like that for me. If I hadn’t fallen for him, I would have probably been pissed.
So he was either wanting to be really ballsy, or it was meant to be a joke.
“You know, this whole nighty thing was supposed to be a joke,” he said and smirked, as if reading my mind. I smiled back at him.
“Oh?” I asked, walking closer to him once again. “So you didn’t want to have sex?”
“Now don’t get me wrong!” he laughed, holding his hands up in defeat. “I definitely wanted that!”
He pulled his shirt off and closed the distance between us, just before wrapping his arms around me. He lifted me up into the air, a little too easily for someone who was supposed to be sick and fragile. His muscles were intact, intimidatingly delicious even.
“You make me crazy,” he murmured, nibbling at the junction of my neck and shoulder.
“Likewise,” I said with a moan.
He traced the tip of his tongue up the side of my neck to just below my ear and paused.
“I think you got me a little unraveled with all that wine,” I breathed.
“That was the plan so you’d laugh at the nighty,” he whispered, his breath tickling my flesh.
“Really?” I asked, my head snapping back. I thought he was being romantic.
“No!” he defended, pulling away from me. “Not really. I was saving that bottle for something special.”
He pulled me into another embrace and whispered in my ear, “And that something special was you.”
I could have physically swooned. My heart leapt with joy, and I felt something strange in the pit of my stomach.
I still didn’t know this man, not fully, but yet, I loved him. I didn’t even care that he was an asshole most of the time. It seemed almost worth it to find precious moments like the one we were having.
“We got here just in time,” I moaned, as he began to assault my neck and earlobe.
“Oh?” he asked, between kisses.
“I really needed this,” I confessed, as he pulled back to look at me.
I smiled, wrapped my arms around his neck, and leaned forward to nuzzle his nose.
“And I need this,” he whispered before I felt his mouth cover mine in a ravenously crushing kiss. Instinctively, my lips parted, and I allowed his tongue entrance into my mouth so that it could whirl together with mine in a highly charged dance of emotion.
He held my body to his as we walked further into the bedroom towards the bed. Before I could speak again, I felt him tackle me to the wall just beside the large four-poster, pressing me into it, kissing all the way down my neck again.
“Are you a vampire?” I laughed, musing at the fact that he kept assaulting my neck. He laughed against me, amused as well, but he didn’t stop. He only continued, and the more he did, the more fueled I became.
He used his weight to keep me against the wall and caressed my curves through the lacey garment, which
almost
covered them. I nearly laughed. It was ridiculous how poor of a job the thing was doing at leaving anything to the imagination. And all along I thought that was where the sexiness came from in such a type of lingerie.
But what did I know? I had never worn anything like it before. And I guess the whole point was to show off my body; what better way than to show all of it, I suppose.
With his attention on my waist and hips, I decided to take clear advantage of the moment to pull myself up his body, up his gloriously chiseled torso, and I thanked my lucky stars that I was able to do so without breaking the kiss.
He lifted me up, just enough so that he was able to draw my legs up to his hips. Instinctively, I looped my legs and wrapped them around his waist, and I smirked. With my legs spread around him, I was opened up to him—completely. His hands explored my thighs, his touch tickling and eliciting moan after moan from the sheer electricity from his gentle caresses. I wanted to shout out just by the pure bliss of the moment, but I wouldn’t. Not just yet. And in response, his hand journeyed even more until he slid a couple of his delectable fingers along my moist slit.
I gasped, and it was as gasp of nothing but sheer pleasure as it escaped my lungs. I pushed my sex down further onto him in response. I wanted it. I wanted him.
I rolled my hips against him some more, hoping that I could push things even further to the brink. I rubbed my aroused pussy against his engorged erection, and I could do nothing more than wish with every fiber of my being me that he wasn’t still wearing pants. I nearly cursed aloud as the friction of the fabric—although excitingly pleasurable—wasn’t the same as his flesh against mine.
I still couldn’t—for the life of me—understand why he wore actual pants to his doctor’s appointment. I always just wore sweats to my doctor’s appointments, but apparently, he was a lot classier than I was.
I unwrapped my legs, frustrated, and set my feet down on the floor to anchor myself. I had to get them off. Immediately.
I fumbled with his belt, as the metal began to clank against itself for what seemed like an eternity. I sighed with relief when I was able to finally remove it and concentrate on my next task, fingering at the button and zipper of his pants.
I had to get the damn things off…
And at the rate I was going, I wasn’t sure it was something that was ever going to happen.
But just as I was about to get frustrated, I was able to get them off. I tugged them down by the waist’s hem—and fell along with them to the floor. Smirking, I realized that I was face to face with the most glorious throbbing cock I had ever seen.
In fact, I couldn’t believe how large his erection looked this time. Large—extremely large—and throbbing. He seemed like he was more aroused this time, more than before.
And so was I, because before I knew it, I was back head-level with him, and we were tangled together, my legs back around his waist with his rod pulsating against my ready entrance. I knew then that our wants and desires were definitely fueling our every movements, especially until he finally plunged into my warm, wet depth.
I groaned out at how good it felt to have his cock thrust in and out of me, stroking what I could imagine to be the velvety walls of my pussy—at least, that’s how men acted like it felt in there. To constantly want it, it had to be like velvet right?
I almost laughed. I doubted it, but I could imagine!
His rigid shaft continued to plow into me as he cupped my breasts—which had miraculously become uncovered by the nighty. He bent down to kiss and nibble them, one by one.
He growled, as he teased my nipples over and over again, and I responded in similar fashion. Only my growls were out of nothing more than pure and utter frustration. He smirked, as his hips continued to roll as he pumped in and out of me. Over and over again.
He nuzzled my engorged breasts.
Licked them.
Nibbled on them, my nipple between his teeth, continually teasing.
And then he suckled.
It felt incredible.
Absolutely incredible.
I half moaned, and hell, half cried, as I screamed out a very incoherent, “Yes!” I whispered lovingly in his ear, “God, I actually missed this!” But I was not really sure why I was telling him that.
I shouldn’t have missed it. Hell, it never should have happened before—well, before now. I shouldn’t have let myself get caught up in him, in his gorgeousness.
But that wasn’t what it was anymore, though. It was something else. Something I couldn’t quite pinpoint, nor did I really even want to. But, hell, more than anything, I didn’t have time to question it.
"Have you now?” he asked, smirking smugly.
I almost took it back until his smirk broke into a smile. Not just any smile, either. It was a smile of child-like wonderment, like that of a little boy who had just gotten the most wished for item on his Christmas list.