Show & Sell
What can I say? I’m a Grayson through and through. We’re ruthless. We’re arrogant.
And once we make up our mind about something, we fucking go for it.
And I’ve decided to go for Aurora.
Once I saw her, I knew I had to have her. And once I fucked her with my brothers, I knew I had to see her again.
Life’s like that for me.
I see, I conquer. Wasn’t that just like some Roman Emperor?
I would have made a fucking fantastic Roman Emperor. I’m tough and god-like. I’m not squeamish or fucking afraid of anything.
“Wow,” I call out to Aurora, who slows her step a little.
Yeah, she looks as gorgeous as ever and, luckily, she’s dressed to take a little ride.
“Promise, she doesn’t bite,” I pat the seat of my motorbike.
She takes the last few steps a bit quicker. I use the moment to feast on her features. Those eyes are drawing me in. If I’m not careful, I might drown in them.
In her.
If I had to describe her in one word it’d be perfect. Being the man I am, I’ve had plenty of beautiful women—but Aurora was unlike any of them.
She was one of a kind—a luxury model and way above any other woman.
“You ride a motorcycle?”
I chuckle. “No, I just brought it to show you.”
It’s her turn to raise an eyebrow. “Okay, sorry, couldn’t resist. Yep, I ride a motorcycle. You’ll love it.”
Hesitation is written all over her face. I can tell she’s probably never been near one of these machines before. She doesn’t know what she’s being missing.
I hand her a helmet. “Just put it on like this,” I demonstrate, and she follows.
Fuck. She looks even hotter with the helmet than I imagined.
“Jump up behind me and hang on.”
As soon as her arms wrap around my waist, I can feel my cock harden. She clutches me tightly.
My right hand turns the throttle, and my baby comes to life. I ease us off the curb and into the traffic. This time of night, we have most of the road to ourselves, and I fly down the streets.
Her body is pressed against mine. It reminds me of a python wrapped tightly around a tree branch. I can feel her nipples harden against my back.
The way she’s straddling the bike, pushing her hips into my back, sparks of electricity and connection flow between us. It’s evident, though the roar of the bike drowns out any noise. Only she and I exist in this world.
We complete each other. She follows me with ease when I lean left for a left curve and right for a right curve. I can feel her body relax but not her grip.
Effortlessly, we power along the road, burning up the tarmac and approaching our destination.
When I stop at lights, she stays glued to me. Her chest is rising and falling against my back. Even through the material of my clothes, I can feel each of her muscles move.
I can feel my own heart beat a little faster than usual. My senses tingle. She smells delicious.
It sounds impossible, but I’m sure I can feel an increase of body heat between us. Tiny flames lick at my insides where she touches me. Judging by the continuous movement of her body forward into me, she’s reveling in this as much as I am.
This feels so fucking awesome that I’m tempted to keep driving off into the sunset with her at my back, squeezing my abdomen and my muscles in a rush of fear and anxiety.
Her hesitation turns me on. It means she’s nervous around me, and I take that as a very good sign indeed.
When I reach the club, Ecstasy, I stop. It takes her a sec to let go of me.
“Wow,” she cries out when I take the helmet off her, and I’m pleased to see her cheeks are a little red.
“Told you you’d love it.”
“It’s great…but I think there’s another ride I’d enjoy more.”
My eyes widen, and I grab her hand. A woman after my own heart. Her words tug at my cock, and if I don’t take her into the club now, I fear we may end up behind the club, in the freezing cold, having a quick fuck.
Once we step inside, warm air, dim lights, and a large crowd of people greets us.
All around me, I hear people whisper my name, looking to get my attention. I’m used to it. It happens all the fucking time.
Actually, most of the time, I switch it off.
You can’t go through life paying attention to ordinary people if you’re extraordinary.
And I fall into the latter category, if I do say so myself.
I mean, I’m a fucking billionaire. I’m the hottest guy around. And people, men and women alike, throw themselves at my feet.
Who wants to be ordinary anyway?
Of course, I haven’t come here to make fucking small talk. As I take Aurora to the VIP area, I make some necessary introductions, but I don’t stop to engage in useless small talk.