One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 38

I didn’t want to rush through dinner. I didn’t want to rush through anything with Braxton. I wanted to savor every minute, every second, that I was with him. But I have to accept the fact that this weekend will be over soon, and while we have to eat, it isn’t on the top of my list of things to do with Braxton.

When he takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom, that is on the top of my list. It isn’t just that my body lusts for his, though that is true. I do want him in ways I never thought imaginable. It’s also the fact that, when I am with him, when we are making love, I feel more alive than I have in years. I feel safe and appreciated. I feel more loved in Braxton’s arms than I ever have in my husband’s.

Those thoughts are scary when I allow myself to truly think about them, so I try not to. I try to focus on being with him while I am here. On Monday, when I am back home in my too quiet apartment with too much time on my hands, all alone, I may allow myself to ponder what it means that my husband was willing to gift me to another man in exchange for his employment, what it means that that other man made me feel all of the emotions a woman is supposed to feel, what it means that staying married to my husband, fulfilling the promise I made two years ago, means giving up so much I hadn’t even realized I’d already sacrificed. I can’t think of that now. I can’t think of the disappointment my parents will feel when they find out I couldn’t make it as Jeff Thompson’s wife. My parents have been married for over thirty years; the word divorce isn’t even in their vocabulary. They won’t understand. They will assume I am greedy for wanting to be with Braxton, that it’s just for his money, that I am ungrateful for all that Jeff has done for me.

I can’t think of it now, so I don’t. Instead, as the gorgeous man in front of me pushes through his bedroom door, I let all thoughts of everything except for him and me fade away, far, far away. He closes the door behind me, and then his mouth is on mine, his hands are on my body, and our clothes are coming off.

It doesn’t take long for us to be tangled and naked in his bed, only the moonlight streaming through the slightly parted curtains illuminating our glistening bodies. Braxton is unassuming. He lets me touch him wherever I want. He doesn’t demand that I do anything or insist that I get into any particular position. While I enjoyed what we did this morning, what he showed me about how good it can feel to be dominated by a man who has my best interest in mind, I also like the idea that I can take charge in the bedroom, too. I lay mostly on top of him, kissing him deeply as my hands roam his body. His thick cock responds, pressing against my thigh.