A Billionaire for Christmas

She nodded.

“Too much?” he asked.

“A lot,” she admitted.

He retreated a little. “I can stop.”

“No! Just give me a second.”

Peyton pushed inside her again, slowly, and held himself there. Beads of sweat dotted his hairline. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Good.”

He kissed her slowly as he fucked her, and Raji moved under him while he slowly, gently, rocked her world again.

Afterward, after Peyton untied Raji and she lay in his arms, spooning as they dozed, she whispered, “Are you going to let me open that life-planning spreadsheet for you this weekend?”

Behind her, Peyton chuckled. “You really want to do that, don’t you?”

“It seems to me that you’ve gotten sidetracked,” she said. “You got the chance to make it up to Georgie, which is commendable, but now you’re derailed, to take this train metaphor way further than I intended.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on.” Raji slithered away from him and hung halfway off the bed, searching her carry-on bag for her laptop.

A sharp pain stung the bare cheek of her ass. “Ow!”

When she looked back, Peyton was grinning over her naked back at her, and a fresh bite mark reddened her butt cheek.

“Jesus, Peys. Let me just get my laptop powered up—”

Her leg moved to the side.

“What are you—”

Pressure between her legs, and then the firm, familiar rub of Peyton’s huge cock filling her. “Oh!”

“I like the look of you hanging off the bed, there. Be quiet, or I’ll fuck your ass instead.”

Raji braced her arms on the carpeting beside the bed while Peyton grabbed her hips and drove himself into her core. She said, “You say that like it’s a threat or something.”

“Sounds like you want it.”

Raji knew better than to say anything at this point. Peyton would do with her body what he wanted, and she loved that.

Cool slippery stuff wormed into her butt, and then Peyton pressed his fingers in while he fucked her pussy until she relaxed around them, and then the wide hardness of his cock spread her ass open.

Raji bit the edge of the mattress when he pushed into her, rubbing every secret, forbidden part of her body, until the ache became a rough, deep pleasure.

He went slowly, shoving himself in and dragging himself out, until Raji’s panting breath became ragged and keening for release. He buzzed the hard calluses on his fingers over her clit until she throbbed under him, helplessly crying out at how he controlled her response.

His control was why she kept coming whenever he called.

He jerked as he pounded her ass, his body straining into hers, and his strong fingertips dug into her hips.

She would have faint bruises tomorrow, something to remember him by.

Awesome.

Peyton collapsed on her, his weight smothering her as he gasped, and he bit her shoulder as he growled.

More marks she would have to cover up.

More secrets she should keep from everyone.

Raji hoped they could meet next month. She was already dying to find out what else he would do to her.

He rolled off of her and lay beside her, breathing hard. “God, you have a tight ass.”

She laughed and wiggled back on the bed to lie beside him, still on her stomach. She didn’t have the energy to roll over just yet.

He adjusted himself to lie on his side and stroked her spine. “I’m glad you decided to meet me this weekend.”

“I probably shouldn’t have,” she admitted. “I traded shifts with a couple of people to get the weekend off. It means I’m going to be working fifty-six hours next weekend without a break.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, nuzzling her hair.

Raji struggled to turn in his arms so that they were face-to-face, their lips close together. “I wanted to.”

“I’m glad.” He stroked her nose with the tip of his, an affectionate, silly thing he did sometimes. “I miss you when we can’t meet.”

Raji almost jumped out of bed, but it was just a Peyton thing. All those artsy-fartsy emo types were the same.

And yet, Raji always told her patients the truth, and so she told Peyton the truth. “I missed you, too. That’s why I traded shifts. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to meet you for another month.”

“Does that residency give you vacation time?” he asked.

“Not really,” Raji said.

“Too bad. We’re going to Europe again in the fall for three months. I’d love to show you Paris.”

“What makes you think I haven’t seen Paris?” she asked, laughing.

“Have you?”

“Um, well, no. During the summers in high school, I did community projects and went to math camp. I didn’t have time to go gallivanting around France.” And her mother certainly hadn’t had the money. Even Raji’s math camp had been paid for by need-based and merit scholarships.

“Come with me,” he said.

She cracked up. “There is no way on the gods’ green Earth that I can take three months off from my residency.”

“At least a few days,” he said. “I’ll kiss you at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I’ll take you to my favorite restaurants.”