Sex with the CEO: A Billionaire Romance

By: Kassandra Cross



He remembered the last time they spent the night together, Catherine all lean arms and legs entwining herself around him and squeezing like an Anaconda, he felt the bones of her sticking into him and although she was beautiful he knew that that wasn’t enough anymore. He had screwed his way through half of London, been with some of the world’s most stunning women and had frankly, become quite bored by it.

He sat down on his big leather L-shaped sofa and opened his iPad. Email upon email, unopened and screaming at him like he knew Catherine would when she finally got hold of him. He handed both his Blackberry and his iPad to Marcus. “Can you sort it all for me old boy?” he chirped in a mock gentrified accent.

“Of course, Sir,” Marcus nodded and whisked it away.

Now it was Friday night, he had blown Catherine off and he had unloaded work onto Marcus for the rest of the evening. It was only 8pm and even though tiredness coursed through him like a cruel illness he knew he had to live. Sitting in was not an option. Dexter Slade was ready for action.





Chapter 3



On the other side of London Annabel Winter was on the worst date of her life. Timothy, the man sat across from her at the table in the quaint little Italian restaurant which was uncomfortably quiet for a Friday night was listing off his favourite types of cheese and why. Annabel was polite and tried to smile and be interested but really she just wanted to cry inside. Timothy and her had met online. She had decided to try one of the dating websites her old roommate had been dabbling with out of sheer boredom and when Timothy and her had ended up being a match she thought, why the hell not?

He didn’t look like a serial killer, in fact he was quite the opposite. He was very unassuming and quiet. In other words, he was boring. Annabel spent the entire cheese conversation trying to figure out who he reminded her of and it was with complete disappointment when she finally realised it was John Major, the most gray and boring of British Prime Ministers. She sighed and smiled a half smile, she still had no idea what he was talking about. She stirred her tea and wished it was something stronger. She patted down her lap, and on the top of her thighs pinched herself, once, twice, nope, definitely awake. It wasn’t a nightmare.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted, “I need to use the ladies room.” She got up from the table and walked to the back of the restaurant, desperate for some time away from him. Tim the most boring date ever.

Inside she locked the door and looked in the mirror. She had gone for the 50’s look that evening and needed to reapply her eyeliner. It was swept up in big cat-eyes and matched her recently dyed jet-black hair. Annabel had been a natural frosty white blonde but she had decided that it was time for some changes. Not only had she changed her hair and decided to start dating again, she had also accepted a new job which she would be starting the following week. She had felt stuck in a rut and was more than ready to pull herself out of it. Let’s make things happen, was her motto and she was living it out as often as she could.

She dabbed her ruby red lips and flicked her hair from her shoulders. Annabel had what many people would consider the perfect figure, she had been blessed with big natural breasts, a tiny waist and a lovely round behind. She stood, curvy and elegant in her tight black, long sleeved dress with plunging neckline which enhanced the large swell of her breasts. They were gigantic. Like big, bouncing balls of fun and Annabel had never been with a man who didn’t become engrossed with them. The men she was used to were never anything special, she had kissed her fair share of frogs and had her heart broken more than once, but on this particular night Tim was just way too dull. He wasn’t bad looking, he could even pass for a seven, but she couldn’t get on board with the monotony of his voice. And for the first time in a long time, she felt sexy. She had been waiting to wear this dress since she had found it and she wasn’t going to waste it on Dim Tim.

When she had finished applying her make-up she went back to the table, sat down and called over the waiter. “I think we need something a little bit stronger than tea,” she said, “Bring us a bottle of Limoncello.” Tim’s face curled into something which could have been fear, but most likely disgust and Annabel smiled and twiddled her thumbs as she waited for it to arrive.



After that, the date certainly became less boring. Annabel giggled her way through half the bottle of Limoncello as Tim watched on half confused, half horrified as she became drunker and drunker and less mindful of her opinions and his feelings. When he brought up politics she rolled her eyes and whispered, “bollocks” and when he talked about his job she mock slept and then laughed at him. She had never acted so outrageously in front of a man before and it was liberating. She was having fun and enjoying herself and even though she did wish the date wasn’t happening, she was glad of the experience. She tuned out to Tim’s voice and focused on his rough hands which she imagined having all over her. She thought of them undoing her bra at the back and squeezing her breasts. She thought about what was in his pants. She bet he had a monster cock in there. Surely Tim had to have one redeeming quality and knowing her luck she would be walking away from the best sex of her life. When she noticed it was almost eleven pm she stood up and thanked Tim for a nice evening, even if she didn’t really mean it for the right reasons and she let him walk her to the door of the restaurant before saying she could make her own way from there. She scanned the streets and contemplated finding the closest tube station, but quickly decided there was no way she would manage in those stilettos. She tottered along on her heels and looked for a taxi.

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