The Billionaire Prince: One Fateful Night

By: Chloe Cassidy

A taste of things to come:



He slid a hand down the length of her body and inserted several fingers into her wet pus**sy without warning. She moaned and wriggled her lower body, coaxing his fingers deeper. He fucked her with his fingers without pretending to be gentle. At the same time, he increased the pressure of his teeth against her skin. Nipping harder with every bite, he pressed the impression of his teeth into her skin.



Amie was undeniably turned on, but that didn’t mean his teeth didn’t hurt against her sensitive flesh. She squirmed, moaned and yipped at the flood of sensations moving over the surface of her skin and the depths of her pussy.



Before she could wonder what would happen next, she felt the weight of the man’s body pushing her into the mattress and the enormity of his co**ck pressed right up against the opening of her pussy. She opened her legs as wide as she could within the restraints of the pantyhose that were tied around each ankle and bound to the bed.



***





Amie was frustrated with her job. She worked in real estate. In fact, she had been working in real estate ever since college graduation. That was more than a year ago. For some strange reason, she had convinced herself that selling real estate was the path to riches, but that wasn’t the case. The last time that real estate was that type of career, Amie was still in elementary school.



Despite the unfavorable real estate market, Amie was able to make money selling homes to hopeful newlyweds. It was always feast or famine. A single sale meant one huge paycheck. Unfortunately, sales didn’t happen every day. Sometimes they didn’t even happen every month.



When she did get lucky selling a dream home to some lucky couple, Amie always lived it up a little. It was her way of thanking herself for a job well done and preparing to make the next sale.



Amie was single. Most of the time, she was happy. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the feeling of a good man between her thighs once in a while. She could usually keep a man just long enough for him to figure out how stubborn and headstrong she was or until he got laid, whichever came first.



On this particular night, Amie was celebrating her most recent sale. Thanks to a high final bid and hefty commission check, Amie had earned enough money to get her through the next couple of months even if she didn’t score another sale until next quarter.



She felt like she deserved a night on the town; just her and a wallet newly filled with enough cash to make the night worthwhile. After buying a sexy red dress and getting her hair and nails done, Amie was ready to take on the world, or at least the newest hot spot in town.



Amie waltzed into the establishment as if she owned the place. Her dress was short enough to expose every inch of toned thigh. She hoped that it would stay in place without shifting enough to reveal that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Amie had planned to wear underwear, but even her skimpiest thongs ruined the smooth line of her new dress.



She minced over to the bar and raised herself gracefully onto a stool by hooking the stiletto heel of her shoe onto the bottom rung of the barstool and hoisting herself upward until her bare as**s was deposited on the faux leather seat. Amie tried to wrestle the bottom of her dress into a more demure position, but it resisted her. She decided to cross her legs and hope for the best as the skin of her butt**ocks became stuck to the vinyl.



Amie waited until the bartender noticed her. Then she ordered a glass of wine. She tried to disguise her dismay when the bartender told her the price. Amie scolded herself for not asking first. She could tell just by scanning the interior of the bar that it was not the type of place to which she was accustomed.



Despite the ridiculously expensive glass of wine and the way that the backs of her thighs were firmly stuck to the barstool beneath her, Amie was having a good time. She had already seen several handsome men glancing in her direction. Based on the prices in this place, she was willing to bet that they were all gainfully employed. That would be a nice change.



She smiled at the bartender. The dark-skinned guy was almost breathtakingly good looking. He was working for a living, and his tips were probably more than her commissions. He smiled back at her before moving on to the next well-dressed woman on the prowl. She was probably the one woman in the place who was willing to stop at a single glass of wine. Amie simply couldn’t afford to spend her entire commission check on booze.



Amie was allowing her gaze to travel around the room as she sat there, uncomfortably adhered to her seat. Well-dressed men and women were drinking champagne and making connections across the room. She wondered how many of them were willing to get laid in the parking lot or a stall in the men’s bathroom like she was. Amie was undeniably horny. She hoped that she hadn’t left the house for nothing.



If Amie couldn’t score some hard co**ck tonight, then she would have to return to her modest apartment empty handed. If that happened, she wouldn’t be empty handed for long. A huge purple vibrator was waiting in her bedside drawer. If she couldn’t get her hands on the real thing, she would stop by a convenience store on the way home and pick up a package of batteries. Amie sighed. Tonight, she was counting on real human contact.



She finished scanning the room and returned her eyes to the bar in front of her. That’s when she noticed that she wasn’t exactly alone anymore. There was a man sitting on the barstool next to hers. He was facing forward. His profile was exquisite.



As she watched, he beckoned the bartender with one finger. “The usual,” he said tersely.



The bartender placed a snifter in front of him and filled it with a thick, viscous liquid. Under the dim lights, Amie couldn’t determine what it was. She couldn’t even tell what color it was. All she could see was that it was dark, opaque and left a residue on the side of the glass when the stranger tipped its contents into his mouth.



The man set the snifter back on the bar and dabbed his lips delicately with a napkin.



Amie was transfixed. She didn’t even realize that she was staring at the man until he looked her straight in the eye.



“Do you see something you like?” he asked in a deep, low voice.



“I don’t know,” she purred, “but I definitely like something I see.” She immediately regretted her words. Amie didn’t want to appear cheap or desperate. In reality, she was actually a little of each. She smiled self-consciously and leaned toward the man, well aware that her movements were putting her ample brea**sts and impressive clea**vage on full display.



The man eyed her curiously. Then he turned until he was facing forward again and ignored her while he got the bartender’s attention. He held up two fingers.



Almost instantly, Amie found herself looking down at a snifter filled with the dark liquid. She shuddered to think of what it could be. Amie was certain that it was some type of ridiculously expensive liquor imported from the far ends of the world to end up here, overpriced at the trendiest bar in town.



She looked at the stranger who was downing his drink. When he finished, he dabbed his mouth clean again and turned to face her.



“What is it?” Amie asked him.



“It’s better if you don’t know,” he responded coolly.



“What do you mean by that?” she asked.



“It’s like making love blindfolded,” he said.



She gazed at him with rapt attention. Although she still didn’t understand, she picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp. It was sweet and sticky. Amie decided that she rather liked it. She smiled at her mysterious benefactor. He didn’t smile back.



“Thank you,” she said simply.



“Would you like another?” he asked.



“Yes, please,” she replied, hoping that she wouldn’t have to pay for her own drinks. The sweet liqueur tasted expensive.



Another gesture from the stranger brought two more servings of the delicious drink. This time, she tried to drink it slowly. She stole a look at her drinking companion. He was beautiful. His hair was blond and radiant. Even in the semi-darkness of the bar, his golden locks reflected the little available light and shone like the rays of the sun.



If his hair was luminous, then his eyes were like the entrance to heaven. They were bright, blue and clear like the sky on a perfect spring day when there isn’t a cloud in sight. Amie was rather awestruck by his overall appearance.



The man’s lips were full and pouty, uncommonly so, particularly for a guy. Amie found herself sweating profusely as she imagined those thick lips surrounding her nipp**les or her clitoris, perhaps both in turn. She shifted on her perch. Her pus**sy lips were firmly stuck to the vinyl seat. Amie pressed her legs together and hoped he wouldn’t notice her discomfort.



“So,” Amie said conversationally, “what do you do for a living?”



“That’s such a boring topic of conversation,” he said smoothly. “I am so much more than just what I do for a living.”



“You have a point,” Amie conceded, “but I don’t really think it’s a boring topic.”



“What do you do for a living?” he asked.



“I sell real estate,” she said proudly. Amie straightened her spine and sat up tall when she said it.

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