Between Desire and Denial: A Fake Dating Romance (Hardy Billionaires)

How could I deny a woman panting with desire underneath me and begging me for the best sex of her life?

Better still, how could I deny Olive Monroe? The second she dropped that dress in front of my window, I knew no other woman would compare to her. So strong even in her vulnerability, she met my challenge head-on.

And now, she was already a fiend for what I could to do with her sexually, and I was a fiend for her addiction to it. Her body was perfection, so small and yet so full of curves that I could get lost in her forever. Every sound she made when I touched her was almost as intoxicating as the way she tasted against my lips too.

I couldn’t deny her if I tried. It’s how I’d defend myself later, but now, there was no defense.

I thrust into her hard and didn’t hold back, all our boundaries and reservations gone. I didn’t care right then that she was my best friend’s assistant or that she was younger than us or even that she’d just broken up with her boyfriend.

All the worries, all the hesitations were gone. We got back to the animalistic need within us to be a part of one another, and that’s what I needed most now.

“Harder,” she begged.

I pulled out slowly as I stared into her hooded eyes. I took my time really observing her in that moment. Her curls were sprawled out on the pillow, dark and shiny against the white pillowcase, her breathing heavy. Her breasts rose and fell fast, and I saw how they were peaked, full and ready for me to give them more attention.

“You hide these tits from the world, I swear,” I growled as I brushed a thumb over her nipple and leaned on my other arm, hovering over her.

“Yeah, they’re too big.” She rolled her eyes, and when I pinched the nipple, she whimpered. “And too sensitive.”

I rolled it now, giving it extra attention as I watched how her eyes glazed over, so responsive to my every touch. “Hmm. I disagree.”

“Seriously. They just”—she waved one hand at them—“harden easily and people see, and then if you touch them …”

I dipped my head down to run my tongue over the other one, and she screamed then gripped my hair and pushed me against them. She liked to be touched so much I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remember anyone before or after her.

“God, that feels so good. You have to stop or I’ll—”

“Come again, Olive. But I want to feel it this time.” I threaded my hands through her hair and looked at her seriously now. “Come on my cock. Show me how you like this.”

I twisted her nipple and pulled her hair back so I got exposure to her neck. I was being rougher than I normally would be the first time with a woman, but I saw how she liked it. Her breathing was erratic, her legs spread further as I thrust into her and rolled my hips, and she cried out loudly as I pinched and twisted her nipple hard.

I felt her pussy, so tight already, convulse around me, and then something came over her. She rolled us and climbed on me like she wanted the control.

“Not enough,” she moaned in my ear. Then she spread her legs wide, gripping my shoulders and lifted herself from me to then bear down hard with everything she had.

My cock was ready to explode as I hit deep into her walls and felt her pussy stretching to accommodate my size. “Damn, you’re tight. You feel good riding my cock like you need it. Fuck. That’s it. Give me that pussy just how you want to.”

Her legs quivered as she increased her speed. Holding onto the headboard, she leaned forward. “It’s so good, Dimitri.”

With her tits bouncing as she rocked over me, I couldn’t look away as I held her hips. “You’re the unexpected sort of stunning that people never get to see.” I don’t think she cared at all what I was saying. Her eyes were glazed over as she moaned and rode me harder. “You’re beautiful under me, Olive, but above me, you’re flawless. You’re—”

She covered my mouth and murmured, “Please don’t talk.” And she lifted herself up and ground down onto me again. “I want to get off, not get taken for an emotional ride that means nothing.”

I gripped her hips harder but let her control the rhythm. She needed it. She wanted it.

And all I wanted to do then was give her that moment. We reached a high together but she controlled the pace. She controlled me. I watched how her body tightened, how she moaned for me, and then how she rolled off of me after like it was all she wanted.

She didn’t snuggle up to me or say a thing as she fell asleep. Yet, once her eyes were closed and her breathing slowed, I murmured, “You really are flawless, Olive Monroe. He never deserved someone as perfect as you.” I pulled her close in the night then and, in her sleep, she cuddled close.

I held her through the night, never letting go.