BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 3 (2 page)

“Oh, yeah,” I breathed. “You feel so good inside me, Derek.”

I couldn’t believe how honest I was being, how I was giving into him. But I didn't care.

“Should we be doing this though?” I asked, breathlessly. “I mean, you just had treatment today…?” 

“God, if I can’t do this, I don’t want to live anymore,” he said, pulling me to his lips. I sighed into his lips, the taste and heat of his body caused a small current to massage over me, relaxing me almost completely.

“God, you’re so tight….,” he moaned. “So wet, and so tight. Don’t make me wait so long next time, please?” he asked, desperation in his voice.

I moaned at his pleas and tightened my thighs’ grip on his waist just enough so that I was able to raise myself up a little higher. I rested my shoulders against the wall, pulling some of my weight off of him—just enough weight, in fact, that he was able to widen his stance and thrust into me with more power and precision than before. 

“Fuck!” I screamed. “You know just what I want!”

I watched him watch
me
as I clutched at the wall and threw my head back, crying out in pure and passionate satisfaction. I rolled my hips firmly, meeting his every thrust, as my pussy convulsed around him. 

He growled out at me, his erection like that of a piston, pounding into me over and over, faster and faster, just before climaxing in great spurts deep within the core of my body.

His knees buckled, as his cock began to twitch and pulse within me, and I felt him shift us towards the bed so that he could drop us in its tangling softness.

We fell and lay together, our sweaty bodies intertwined with one another. I sighed in complete bliss, unmoving except for our small kisses and tender caresses. It was a few moments, the bliss overshadowing everything else, before I realized that pain was shooting throughout the entirety of my leg.

“I need my leg,” I said and sighed, pulling at my numbed limb, trying to free it from beneath his heavier body.

“No!” he yelled childishly, folding his lower lip over his top lip. “That’s
my
leg!” He reached out jokingly and grabbed my asleep-leg.

I giggled, especially when he rose up to aid in the retrieval of my tingling leg. 

“It’s your leg, huh?” I asked, finally having my leg out from under him. I swatted it, hoping for blood to return to it again. “Yet, you helped me get it back; that’s love,” I joked, immediately kicking myself for blurting out what I had just blurted out.

I mentioned the “L” word. That dreaded, dreaded word…

“It is…” he trailed, his eyes glistening as he looked into my own.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to act. I wondered if he was just agreeing to agree, or if there was something in his words—a truth.

“Lay back down with me,” he cooed, leaning back just before nuzzling in. I smiled, as I watched him settle back in all over again. I sighed, my smile softening.

“Okay,” I whispered with a sense of light-heartedness. And then without delay, I settled in beside him, relieved at the new—and more comfortable—position. “If that's what you want.”

“I want to memorize you,” he breathed.

The truth was…he already had.

He was on his knees beside the bed, as he reached out and grabbed my ankles so that he could pull my feet closer to his face. I giggled, the feeling of his fingers on the bottom of my feet tickled. I pulled back, but he wouldn’t let me. He wouldn’t let me jerk my feet away. He smiled, pulling my feet closer once again, only this time, much more carefully.

I sighed, as he began to rub them, massage them even. It felt nice. His touch was firm, so firm that I didn’t even mind him rubbing the overly sensitive bottoms of my feet. It was something that no one had ever done before, and I wasn’t quite sure how I should have felt about it, but I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

He left his hands on my ankles and placed butterfly kisses up my legs. He sighed a great sigh of contentment, as he breathed in slowly, as if he was drinking in the warmth of my skin, reveling in it.

He moved slowly, adjusting his angle, and allowed his mouth to follow the path his hands had been setting towards my knees.

I shuddered, hissed, and then flinched when he licked the back of my knee, suddenly remembering how ticklish I was there as well. I had always been ticklish…for as long as I could remember. How I had forgotten, I’d never know.

I kicked at him, the sensation becoming too much to handle.

He laughed, holding my feet to keep my legs steady again. He began kissing me harder, more determined, and I noticed that when he did, the ticklish sensation eased. I breathed a sigh of relief and calmed, as he caressed me with his hands and mouth, feeling me, tasting me, and exploring every inch of my legs.

The gentle and consistent pressure of his touch soon had me writhing and sighing in pleasure. The sighs only seemed to encourage him more; and my God, I was thankful for that. He growled and pulled at my legs roughly so that he could continue his motions on my thighs; his hands and mouth seemingly enjoying the taste of my flesh—all the way until he reached the hem of the nighty, the garment I couldn’t believe I was still even wearing.

He pushed the short article of clothing up with his nose and continued the journey of his mouth upwards. “Wow…” I breathed, feeling his warm saliva coat my goosebump-ridden skin. He flicked his tongue along the line where the back of my thigh met my ass, and I moaned out once again.

I tried to roll away, the sensation tickling me, but he held me even tighter. “Zoe, you’re not going anywhere,” he murmured.

His hands roamed over the exposed length of my thighs, pressing firmly, using his nails to dig into my flesh—just enough to let me know that he was there. I could have laughed at that sentiment. I mean, as if I could have forgotten he was there…for even so much as a moment.

He was slower, more relaxed this time. He used longer strokes, followed by a series of nibbles, gentle and succulent. He was taking his time. 

He kissed my legs, and my body responded wildly. He was being so gentle, so tender, and yet I was crazed… all over again.

But it was relaxing.

There was something serene in it all—despite feeling fueled once again.

My legs shifted apart so that he could once again slip his hands beneath the hem.

He began slowly, yet firmly, massaging my hips.

“Wow, that feels nice,” I cooed, reveling in it all.

The stress that I had been feeling from everything and the worry that I was feeling—it was all dying away in the moment, dying away with the tenseness of my body. I felt free, completely free.

The tension no longer burdened me and gradually, my thighs came further apart. The relaxation was taking hold. And I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but in the moment, it certainly felt like a good thing.

He slowly pulled me towards the edge of the bed, causing the lace that just barely covered my body to bunch up all the way to just below my breasts.

Once my legs were hanging off the bed, Derek’s head took position between my sleek thighs, and he inhaled deeply. “I love savoring that sweet smell.”

I smiled, without really meaning to. I loved the fact that my fragrance was arousing him.

He dropped light kisses up the top of my left thigh, across each cheek, and then down my other thigh. Goosebumps arose on every square inch of flesh that he visited. He ran his tongue along the edge of my dripping labia. 

He pulled back, bringing his hands up again, before resuming his massage of my curves

As soon as he began digging his nails into my thighs, memories came flooding in, memories of the first time we fell together; it was in a heated and passionate ferocious battle.

He began lightly rubbing his thumb along my slit.

I was glad for his attention, and I was glad for it without the constant interruptions.

I jumped and moaned out when he got to the area just above my pubic bone. I liked it. 

Encouraged by my noises, he pressed his mouth roughly against my slit, sucking at my flowing juices. 

“Wow!” It was all I could say that was coherent. Everything else was babble. Everything else was lost in the moment, the moment of nothing more than pure and extreme passion.

The tip of his tongue played with my clit, swirling, twirling, flicking at, and drawing out the most pleasurable cries I had ever succumbed to.

Equipped with only his lips, teeth, and tongue, he began working at tantalizing me even further; and my God, was it working! He tugged, licked, flicked again—at my labia, and clit—bringing me to the edge. And then he pulled away. He withdrew.

I rolled over to sit up and began kissing him, placing my palm on his twitching cock, holding it flat against his lower abs. 

He stood and pushed me back on the bed, and I could do nothing more than smile, widely, as the tip of his cock brushed against my clit. I moaned out when he pressed it into my begging entrance.

“Yes!” I bellowed. “Fuck me now!”

He held himself there for a moment, but I couldn’t take it.

“Please, Derek,” I breathed, “I need you inside me again.” Nuzzling his nose, I murmured, “I really need you…” before tenderly kissing him. I meant it. I really did… more than just physically.

“I do too,” he whispered, “More than you know.” 

He kissed me again, softly, and I could do nothing more than revel in the warmth of his body and watch him when we parted our kiss. His enthusiasm as he paused above my face, his eyes glistening…it was all so completely and utterly wonderful. It was as if he was reflecting on something, praising the fact that we were together. It was strange to see him act in such a way, but it was a welcome strangeness.

A very welcomed strangeness.

He pressed into me, his erection slowly entering me once again.

I sighed, content, as he continued to love me in long, slow strokes.

My hands explored his bare chest, and when they did it was almost as if they caused a lightbulb to shift on in his mind—because he immediately looked down to my breasts and tsked.

“I feel like I’ve barely gotten to touch your breasts,” he said and smirked, slowly entering me.

He reached out to the tight nighty and tugged the straps down my arms, exposing my breasts to the cool air around us. I heaved, almost breathless at the expression that played across his face. He wanted me…and I loved it.

He cupped my exposed chest, kneading the heavy mounds just before pinching and teasing the rosy nipple of one of my breasts.

“You totally have!” I defended, recalling the several times he paid attention to my full mounds. “I have no idea what world
you’re
living in!”

But rather than respond, he smiled and then repeated the same teasing ministrations with my other nipple, tugging, pulling, and all the while eliciting slightly pained but highly pleasurable moans from me.

I thought that it had reached its peak. I thought that him fucking me while playing with my breasts was the best thing he ever

Then, he thrust into me even harder.

“Oh, yeah!” I cried. “Keep fucking me, Derek!”

“I have to admit I love that language!” he bellowed, rolling his hips even harder and faster than before. I reached out for the headboard, pressing against it for leverage, meeting every one of his thrusts, relishing in how good it all felt.

He withdrew his hand from my breasts and let it wander down my side and downwards until he reached my thigh. I sighed in pleasure as he slipped his hand under my leg and pulled it up and away so that he could open me up to him even more. And that was all it took; that, and a few more slow strokes and we were both sent over the edge, flying—soaring even—into another glorious orgasm.

The next few weeks were magical, as horrifically corny as that sounded. I had hardly even spoken to my mama about it all, or at all for that matter. Everything was Derek.

If it wasn’t doctor’s appointments, then it was taking care of work. If it wasn’t taking care of work, it was taking care of him; and on the few occasions that I wasn’t taking care of him—on some level or another—I was just enjoying his company.

Our newest oasis, away from the business of work, and the incredibly exhausting world of cancer-care, was the park. We people watched and enjoyed the beauty of the outdoors, especially at our perfect bench, which always seemed abandoned at the time of day we most liked to go.

It was a small black bench, just beneath a large tree canopy, which provided a ton of shade, and it was positioned to face a large open field, the perfect place to people watch as everyone sat out on blankets, played Frisbee or ball, or just meandered about.

It was strange, and it was as close to gossiping as I could ever be in on, but it felt probably just as satisfying.

“So are you going to tell me about your mother land?” he joked, leaning against my shoulder as we sat on the bench, staring out at the open field of park-goers.

“My mother land?” I laughed, snapping my head back to look at him, my mouth agape. “You act like I’m from outer space.”

“You may as well be.” He smirked.

“Excuse me?”

“Seriously, you people are so nice; it’s not natural.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Sholts, I think it’s unnatural to be so unkind and cruel.”

“Human beings are cruel creatures.”

“They’re also beautiful, loving creatures.”

He scoffed. “Do you see this?” he asked, pointing to the folded up newspaper that lay beside us. The front page was riddled with a shooting rampage that had happened in the city, and I was sure that it didn’t stop there.

“That doesn’t mean humans aren't capable of being beautiful…or even loving.”

“They’re capable of it, sure,” he said. “But they’re not very apt to it.”

I sat and pondered for a moment on what he said. It was true; a lot of people weren’t apt to it, but I had no idea how someone could be so cynical. I liked to give people the benefit of a doubt; I liked to believe in the best of people.

The thing that baffled me was that outside of work, Derek was growing softer. It was like he was in a better mood; and he was always willing to be the humanitarian I wanted him to be. I didn’t understand how the cynicism was still so completely there.

But then again, at work he still seemed like a tyrannical nightmare.

At work, he was completely unglued.

But he continued to assure me that there was a reason. And that it would all be seen sooner or later.

But I almost didn’t buy it. There was no way that all the employees that he was letting go had to be bad. There was no way at all.

“So what is the deal with work?” I asked verbally—rather than just thinking it. I hated bringing up the fact that he was only good during our time together and in public was a crazy tyrannical asshole, but it had to be brought up.

That being said, I couldn’t look at him.  I definitely didn’t want to look at his face while I suggested that he was being rash and insane. So I looked on at the wide field of grass in front of us and focused on a couple of kids flying a rainbow-colored kite high in the sky.

“Let’s get a hot dog,” he said, ignoring the question. My head snapped over to look at him, and he was staring, eyes squinting, at the hot dog vendor’s cart a few yards from us, parked in the middle of the grassy field.

“Seriously, you’re not going to tell me?” I asked, swatting him for changing the subject.

He smiled. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He smirked. “It will ruin my plans of completely ruining my company.”

My eyes narrowed, warning him of my rising frustration. He laughed. I knew that he was joking, but I definitely wasn’t amused.

“You’re definitely not a light-hearted person,” he said, rising to his feet and turning back to face me.

“I’m way more light-hearted than you are; I just don’t think that many people losing their job is something to laugh about.”

I cringed. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but no matter how bad I felt, he probably really did need to hear it. “And I’m being serious Derek… People are talking, and they all think you’re a crazy tyrant.”

“And what do you think?” he asked, extending his hand to me, offering to help me up. I knew he really did want a hot dog.

“I don’t know what to think, honestly.” I sighed. “Outside of work, you’re a lot less of an asshole.”

“Well, I guess that’s a compliment…” he shot sarcastically, as I accepted his hand. “Just trust me, that’s all I ask of you.”

I sighed again, standing.

“Trust my love for this company, and know that I’m doing this all for a reason.”

“Does it have to do with you being sick?”

“Yes, and no.”

“Explain.” My brows twisted in confusion.

He grabbed my hand and led me towards the large grassy field in front of us, towards the hot dog stand.

“It definitely made me go about everything in an angrier manner, and in truth, it probably gave me the courage to actually go through with it all. But it was in the books, being planned, before I found out that I was sick.”

The vendor smiled at us, and Derek quickly held up two fingers and whipped out cash, all before I could really even understand what was happening. That was New York; everything was quick. Far quicker than me.

The man squirted mustard on the dogs and handed them over, along with packets of mayo and ketchup. I had to admit, I didn’t really care for hot dogs, but the ones in the park were always an exception.

I took a large bite, trying to process what Derek had just said. So something was happening; I just had to be patient to find out what it was.

“Ready to go back?” he asked, over a mouthful of hot dog.

I nodded in response, taking another bite of my food, and before I knew it, we were off, headed down the sidewalk towards the nearest park exit, one hand in the other’s grasp, and one hand with a hot dog.