As Darcy forces what must be every last drop of his cum into my tight little cunt, our bodies couldn’t be any closer. The whipped cream smears between my breasts and his perfect chest while we grind against each other.
I stick my tongue out and lick the cream off of Darcy’s face.
“Yum,” I giggle.
“Yum,” Darcy agrees.
He presses his tongue into my mouth as we kiss, lapping the whipped cream up off my own tongue and swallowing it instead.
We’re a mess. Both of us. We’re both covered in whipped cream and wine.
Beneath all that, Darcy still has my honey smeared all over his lips and face. My pussy is so full of his cum that it’s threatening to flood out any second and make a mess of my thighs.
But I feel like I’m fucking sparkling. I feel like a goddamn fairy princess. Maybe it’s just the orgasm talking—or maybe Darcy is just that good.
His big, fancy penthouse. His huge, throbbing dick. Darcy leans his forehead against mine, and I realize we’re both laughing.
“God, Lizzie. You’re so much fun.”
“That’s my job, isn’t it?” I joke.
And just like that, Darcy’s laugh dies in his throat.
“Is that what this is to you, Lizzie? Strictly business?”
“What?” I pull back, confused.
“I’ve wondered…but now you’ve actually said it.”
“What the fuck are you going on about, Darcy?”
“I have to know, Lizzie. What is this? What are we? Is this just some kind of fucking—I don’t know...ploy? Some kind of trick you’re using to get me to raise my bid on Bennett Babes?”
Leave it to Will fucking Darcy to turn something totally lovely into something that’s offended his idiot pride. While he’s still inside of me, no less.
“You’re a smart man, Darcy,” I say. I can feel his words cutting me right through my chest. “But that’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Tell me it’s not true, then,” Darcy says.
I look into those gorgeous eyes of his and realize that as much as I’m hurt right now…I’ve hurt him, too.
He’s an idiot fucking billionaire who can’t take a joke.
But he’s my idiot fucking billionaire. Or at least…I’d like him to be.
“I want you,” I tell him. I know he can see the conviction in my eyes—because what I’m saying right now is the dead truth. “Not your fucking money or your contracts or your business deals. I want you. Just you.”
Beneath my body, I feel Darcy relax in a sigh of relief.
Then, I feel it. Deep in my pussy. His cock hardening in a different emotion completely.
“I want you, too,” he says darkly, pulling me close. Darcy’s tongue slicks up my neck all the way from my collarbone to my jaw. “Here—let me show you.”
In one fluid motion, Darcy has me up off his cock and cradled in his arms. He carries me off to the bedroom like Prince fucking Charming.
With all the whipped cream on my body and cum in my pussy…I guess that makes me Snow White.
Darcy carries me not to the bed, which is huge and beautiful and so opulent-looking I could cry, but instead through the doorway to a room just inside his boudoir. My first inclination? Darcy has a sex dungeon.