Billionaire Daredevil In Love

NADINE.

Throughout my stay as a prisoner in Clayton’s basement, he never touched me, not once, except the time when he hit me. And when I agreed to marry him, I assumed it would go on like that, that he would be too disgusted by me to want to fuck me. I was right about the disgust, but I was not wrong about his desires.

“Spread your legs, girl,” he said to me as he pulled his rod out of his drawers.

“What?” I said sitting up, shocked. I tried to sit up but he shoved me back on the bed. I crawled backwards on the bed.

“I said spread your legs,” he barked.

“I-I’m not ready,” I managed to say, and I really wasn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was have sex with him, but he seemed suddenly keen on it.

“Ready?” He said, his brow arched. “Who gives a fuck about that?!?! Bitch ready or not, I will have my way with you; don’t forget that we’re legally married now. This is your fucking duty!”

I wanted to say something, but my mouth had suddenly gone dry and the words remained stuck in my throat.

He climbed onto the bed with his knee, and pried my legs apart. In a harsh manner, he tore off my pants, and I saw a lecherous smile spread on his face as he gawked at my genitalia. He slipped a condom over his erection and tapped my genitalia with his sheathed penis.

“This is going to be fun,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“No, it’s not,” I wanted to say. “This is going to be horrible.”

He slid into me, and I let out a gasp. During my stint in the basement, I had seen him engage in all sorts of sexual activities with Natasha and all other women, and I knew, just from watching, that he had an unusual stamina. He would go on for minutes, even after the person was visibly exhausted. So I braced myself. He pounded into me with unusual energy and I hurt. As he did, my mind wandered to Anna; I was doing it for her. So I clenched my teeth and took the force of his strokes without so much as shedding a tear.

After what seemed like forever, he orgasmed, shuddering and groaning on top of me.

“Ahh, that was good,” he said as he lay beside me. “Your pussy is-” he kissed the chef’s kiss, and smiled at me, while I stared blankly at him.

“You’re done, you can leave now,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, standing up, and wearing his trousers. “Next time, though, I don’t want you lying there like a corpse. I did not marry you from the fucking morgue, did I?”

And with that he left the room.

I went into the bathroom to wash. I felt sore down there and actually checked to see if I was bleeding. Not that I was a virgin, but the sex had felt so vigorous that I just had to check. When I saw that I wasn’t, I took a bath and went back to sleep.

CLAYTON.

Sex with Nadine was extremely satisfying. When I walked into her room, all helpless and scantily clad, I felt the tamped down desire in me come up to the surface, and I couldn’t help myself. I called Trent after I got home.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Hey, man,” I said after he picked up the phone.

“Ahh, if it isn’t the married man,” he teased. “How’s life being married? And how’s your wife?”

I gave a chuckle. “Ohh, everything is fine, I guess,” I said. “You know me, I don’t play around.”

“Of course, of course,” he said.

“Where are you, Trent?” I asked. “I feel like my batteries are low and I need to recharge them with some alcohol, so how about a drink or two somewhere quiet?”

“Ohh, okay,” he said. “I was actually headed to a club, you know, but since you mentioned quiet, I’ll check for one of my favorite bars downtown.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll text you in a few minutes.”

I began to get dressed. Trust Trent to know just about every bar and club in the city. As I slipped into a sweatsuit, I heard my phone buzz and when I looked into it, I saw that Trenton had sent me the address; it was a bar that I did not know, and had never been to. I alerted the driver and when I was done, I entered the car and he drove off to the bar.

We arrived at the bar downtown in about half an hour. It was a small place, exactly like I wanted it, and had only a few people in it. I spotted Trent and went over to meet him. We ordered two glasses of beer.

Natasha:

Whitney was a friend at my college. She was the only one who understood me, and even though she finished college, she wasn’t a snob like Stella, whom I could barely call a friend. The bar she took me to was downtown – it was a small place and was dimly lit.

“And who did he get married to?” She asked as we settled in, a cocktail in front of each of us.

“Some lowlife,” I said exasperatedly. “He didn’t even have the dignity to go for someone with class.”

“Wow. Clayton’s lost his marbles,” she said.

“It seems so,” I said, taking a sip from my drink.

“Girl, your eyes are all puffed up, like you’ve been crying,” she said, placing her hand over mine. “How have you been feeling?”

“Ohh, I’ve been feeling like shit, Whitney,” I said. “Coupled with the fact that my roommate tried to give me a so-not-needed therapy session.”

“Wait. Stella?” She asked, with a wry smile.

I nodded. Something struck me as I looked over her shoulder, there was someone behind her, a man. I struggled, squinting, until I made out who it was – Trent, and just in front of him, Clayton.