Free Training Her Curves - London (A BBW Billionaire Domination & Submission Romance) by Christa Wick Page A

brain started to melt at his kiss, the furnace between my legs kicking into action. His hand moved from my back to my front, his persuasive fingers coaxing me into parting my thighs. Stroking at my clit, he walked me backwards. The bend of my knees met the frame of the bed and I started to fold.
    Down I went, my bottom hitting the mattress and the robe falling open as Simon's kiss descended. Bypassing my breasts, he wound his arms around my hips and nudged my legs apart. Lips fastened on my clit and then his tongue began to move.
    I shattered a few heartbeats later, my release erupting with a scream that echoed in the king-sized bedroom. I writhed along the mattress, my cunt locked in pleasure that was almost painful from how strong the contractions were that ran through me. I strained, trying to control it, to retreat, but the contractions kept rolling through me. I screamed again, hips jerking. My hands seized my head, my fingers knotting in my hair as Simon continued sucking and another bucking wave rolled through my body.
    "Oh, pudding, I promise you're going to take much, much longer the next time," Simon chuckled before biting lightly at my hip as he moved up my body.
    I blushed over how I had come so quick and so hard. My thighs were a wet mess, the flesh heated and shiny. My pussy still spasmed, pushing out more clear cream that his fingers played in.
    "Not if you don't stop touching me," I whispered, wanting anything other than the cessation of his hand against my sex.
    "Mmmm..." Simon nuzzled my neck as he pressed a thumb against my clit and pushed three fingers deep into me. "Maybe we'll go for a high count this morning and practice restraint tonight."
    Feeling the sweet tension repossess my cunt, I knew restraint would be impossible. I wanted his cock out, wanted to ride it. I felt like a wild woman unleashed, dripping with need, every inch of my flesh hypersensitive.
    Until my phone started vibrating within my clutch, the small purse threatening to dance off the edge of the nightstand.
    "I'm so sorry..." My hands wrapped around Simon's shoulders to urge him away.
    "Last night's 'business'?" he asked.
    I nodded, reaching for my purse and feeling a million shades of rude. Pulling the cell phone out, I saw that the call was Dylan.
    "I'll prepare the tea service," Simon offered, planting a quick kiss on my shoulder before exiting the room.
    I pressed the icon to accept Dylan's call and cautiously placed the phone against my ear, my whispered greeting barely audible.
    Hearing nothing but a sigh from Dylan, my heart started pounding.
    "What's wrong?" His silence after I answered caused two scenarios to run rampant inside my head. Either some tattletale at the hotel had contacted Dylan or there was bad news on Mishka. I didn't care how much of an ass chewing I was in for if someone had ratted me and Simon out, I just wanted Dylan's sigh not to be about the big Russian.
    "Sorry, baby girl," Dylan answered. "I'm just exhausted. Jo-Jo wanted to keep you up-to-date, but she can't talk about Mishka without crying this morning."
    Tears sprung immediately to my eyes. "What did you hear?"
    "Nothing, nothing and more nothing," he answered. "I've got Austin Long involved now..."
    I relaxed a fraction. The oilman not only knew Mishka and had close ties to Russia because of his company, but he was ex-Special Forces.
    "That's good, right?" I asked, a begging inflection to my tone.
    "It might get us ears and eyes in Moscow that we don't already have. What we really need is surveillance, some way to..."
    He trailed off and I gave a small prompt. I knew what he was talking about but also that it wasn't wise to talk about such things over the phone. "I thought we had experts?"
    "All the Russian experts are in Russia." Another sigh followed, heavier than the first. "We could offer them all the money in the world and they wouldn't lift a finger. And just asking could be a death warrant if it got back to the wrong group."
    Seconds passed in