Still inside her, he began to massage her back. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced. He wasn't in a rush. He was taking the time to please all of her. She sighed as his hands relieved the tension of the last few days and moaned when he started to thrust again, this time slowly, with long, regular strokes.
“My God, Ryan, you're so...” She didn't finish. Her next orgasm took over. His hands massaging her back and the feel of him moving inside her was too much. She held on to the bed when her whole body convulsed.
He was anxious to see her face now. He pulled out of her and turned her over. Her hands flew to her belly, but he pulled them away and kissed the area she was trying to hide. She tried to push him away, but he didn't move. The kisses continued until she relaxed.
“All of you is beautiful,” he said.
“But I hate my—” He put a finger to her lips, and she fell silent.
He got onto the bed next to her and pushed her legs open. She threw her arms around him when he entered her again. His body felt great on hers. It was hard and muscular, and she loved the feel of the hairs on his thighs. She rubbed her hand over his chin, feeling the coarseness.
They kissed, their tongues moving in time to his thrusts. Soon she felt his shaft twitching, and she knew he couldn't last much longer. She didn't care anymore whether he was her boss or not. He was her lover, and his arousal was hers.
“Come inside me,” she said. “I want your sperm deep in me.” Ryan cried out, pushed her arms into the bed, and came, remaining still until every drop left him.
*****
It was as most days in LA: beautiful. Only it was much warmer than usual. Alina was dreading the day in front of her. She and Ryan had been lovers for months, but she was beginning to have doubts about where it was all leading. Reluctantly, she'd decided that Ryan wasn't the man for her. He wasn't husband material and never would be. Ryan was married to his business, and as long as he had a beautiful woman to bang, he would be happy.
“Ryan, can I talk to you?” she said as soon as he arrived.
“Sure. For you, anything.” He was in a great mood, and that made her task all the more difficult.
“Ryan, I've decided I want to end our relationship.”
“Nice one. Now, what do you really want to talk about?”
“Ryan, listen to me. I don't want it anymore. It's not right. You're my boss. I know I've let it go on for too long, but I hope you understand. It's not right.”
“Why do you want to stop?”
“I've told you. You're the boss and always will be. We will never have a relationship on an even footing. I have learned so much here, about business and about...sex.”
He smiled. “Which have you learned more about?”
“Sex,” she admitted.
“Okay. If you stay, you know I'll always want you.”
“That's just the problem. You're the boss, and I'll always feel like I have to give myself to you.”
“What about Paris?” he asked.
“What?”
“Pierre, the developer we met, he told me he's looking for an international PA. It'd be great for you, a chance in a million.”
“Ryan,” she exclaimed. “That would be...fabulous.”
“Then I'll call him.”
*****
Alina lived and worked in Paris for the rest of her life. Every time she passed the Four Seasons George V Hotel, she remembered the night she'd first made love to Ryan. She saw it as the moment her great adventure began. If she hadn't made love to him, she wouldn't be in Paris and she would never have met her wonderful husband, Jacques, or had her children, Emma and Charlotte.
BILLIONAIRE BOSS Romance – What the Boss Wants, He Gets
Colten Lewis looked at his watch. He hated tardiness. He looked up at the tatty apartment building and imagined what it would look like once his builders had finished with it. The rental income from the luxury apartments would be much higher than it was now. How could a real estate owner let a building in such a prime location get so dilapidated? he wondered. All the tenants would have to leave. There would be protests, no doubt. The usual ban the bomb, support mass immigration assholes would turn up. Then there would be the press reporting what a bad man he was for putting old ladies and families with handicapped kids on the streets. They always took that line, the press. But not one of the journalists had ever bothered to dig below the surface and see what Colten really did with tenants he wanted to move. Most of them got more cash than they could earn in a lifetime, and if they went without making a fuss, he always rehoused them in much better accommodations. The problem was that if you had to move three hundred tenants, there were always a couple who chained themselves to the front door in protest. Most of those who protested had never done a day’s work in their lives. Colten called them freeloaders, people who lived on welfare and feigned illness so they would never have to work.