A Million Dirty Secrets

  “You’re checking out my ass, aren’t you?” he asked without turning around.

  I snapped my head to look away before he could actually catch me. “Um, not at all.” Of course my voice cracked, forcing me to clear my throat.

  “Uh-huh, sure,” he said as he shut the doors of the closet behind him. He walked over to his jacket, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the inside pocket, and then strolled over to the couch next to the window and sat down, still completely naked. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I just watched as he lit up a cigarette and set the lighter and pack down on the table beside him.

  I was hypnotized by the way his lips made love to the cigarette with each draw of nicotine. He reached down and grabbed his dick with his other hand and began to stroke it while his eyes raked over my body.

  “Come here,” he said, motioning to me with a backward jerk of his head.

  I hesitated, watching his cock harden before my eyes. With absolutely no shame at all, he never stopped fondling himself as he spoke to me. “It’s time for your first lesson. I’m going to teach you how to suck a cock properly.”

  I’ll admit I gulped. With good reason, given my first attempt. But it was his penis’s funeral. Knowing there was no other choice, I walked over to where he sat and kneeled between his opened legs to await further instruction.

  “You misunderstand. I want you to sit on the couch.” He extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray on the table before standing and then pulling me to do so as well. I sat on the couch where Noah placed me, and he was right in front of me. All of him.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Delaine. It’s the easiest way I know to show you. Once you see what I like, it should be easier for you the next time. I hope you’re a fast learner.”

  He took his dick in one hand and put the other on the back of my head, urging me forward until the tip of his cock touched my lips. “Kiss it. And don’t be afraid to use your tongue.”

  I opened my mouth and wrapped my tongue around the head of his dick, letting my lips close over it.

  He moaned. “Fuck, that’s so good. Keep going. A little suction this time.”

  I flattened my tongue and took the whole head in my mouth, sucking on it like a popsicle. I could do this. Plus, listening to his instructions sort of made me want to do a good job.

  “Put your hand around the base and squeeze just a little bit.”

  I did as he said and felt him harden further in my mouth. He pushed my head forward so that I took even more of him in while his hips met my movements and then pulled back again.

  “Oh, God, yeah. Just like that,” he growled, and pushed all the way inside until he hit the back of my throat. Not wanting there to be a repeat performance from Foreplay, I moved my hand up so he couldn’t go any further.

  Noah wound his fingers in the hair on the back of my head and moved me back and forth slowly. Once my mouth became accustomed to his invasion, he moved faster. The room was silent with the exception of the wet sucking sounds I made and the deep groans that escaped his throat while he watched himself fuck my mouth.

  He propped one foot on the couch as his hips pumped his cock in and out. His pace quickened and he began to grunt with each thrust. I was shamefully wet between my thighs and horrified I might ruin his couch. I moaned at the thrill of knowing it was pleasurable for him, which must have been a good thing, because he moaned in turn and thrust harder.

  “Fuck! I knew when I saw that fuckable mouth of yours that you’d excel at this.” His voice was all breathy and raspy, and he was still fucking my mouth, and I wanted him to touch me because, good Lord, he was sexy.

  The more he moaned and groaned and even growled, the more confident I felt. His balls were swinging back and forth and I wanted to see what they felt like. So I reached my other hand up and cupped him gently.

  “Shit, shit, shit! You’re going to make me come.”

  I really wanted him to, but I had no clue what I was supposed to do about that.

  “Oh … God,” he grunted, fucking my mouth faster. Long fingers pulled my hair and tugged my head forward and then back again to meet his thrusts. His grip was so tight that it should’ve hurt, but really, it only turned me on more.

  “Let’s see if you can swallow.” His voice was rough, and before I could register what that meant, he thrust deep into my mouth until he was once again touching the back of my throat. A guttural growl sounded from his chest, and then thick, hot liquid shot down my throat.

  I nearly gagged until I overrode my instincts and started swallowing. I’d be lying if I told you it tasted better than chocolate or fruit candy or some other incredulous stuff like that. But it wasn’t terrible, either. Common sense told me that I should be thoroughly grossed out, but given the reaction I just got from him—this total stranger who’d paid two million dollars to own me as his personal sex slave so that he could do this to me whenever he wanted—it was tolerable.

  He pulled his dick out of my mouth and smiled down at me. “Now that was a motherfucking blow job.”

  I wiped the leftover wetness from my mouth with the back of my hand and did my best to look disgusted because he didn’t need to know that I’d sort of enjoyed it. But he only chuckled in response.

  “There’s mouthwash in the bathroom.”

  He stepped away from me and took my hand, pulling me up from the couch and leading me over to another set of doors. We both went inside, and he pulled out a bottle of mouthwash from under the sink and handed it to me. I poured some in the cup and swished it around my mouth while he grabbed a washcloth and wet it and then wiped himself off. Even limp, his cock was stunning.

  “Here,” he said, pulling out a new toothbrush, still wrapped.

  We stood at the his-and-her sinks and brushed our teeth in awkward silence. His reflection kept grinning at me around his toothbrush, and I was pretty sure he was getting a kick out of watching my tits jiggle with my brushing motions. I couldn’t stand the smug look on his face any longer, so I averted my eyes and looked around the bathroom instead. It was a bathroom designed for a king, and the centerpiece of the whole room was the bathtub. It was a Jacuzzi big enough to hold at least four people, and it had a bronze faucet on one end. Two steps led to the opening, with two more on the inside of the tub. Inside there were benches about halfway up each side that functioned as a sitting area. I swear he could have easily thrown a party inside that thing. And then I wondered if he ever actually had. For some reason, I wanted to reach out and smack him in the back of the head for that thought.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I was standing in my birthday suit, brushing my teeth next to a man I had just met and still didn’t know anything about, who had just fucked my mouth royally, and I wanted to smack him for throwing a wild orgy in his gargantuan bathtub … in my head. His cock must have impaled my brain, because that reaction wasn’t making a bit of sense.

  Squelching the overpowering urge to spit my toothpaste in his face, I spat it in the sink instead. My mouth was clean, but I still felt dirty.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he said after he spat and rinsed.

  I gave him a death glare but followed him out of the bathroom anyway.

  “Um, excuse me,” I said, stopping in my tracks as he walked over to the bed. “I’m still naked. Where are my things?”

  “I sleep in the nude, and now so do you.” He pulled the covers back and slipped under them.

  I huffed, then stomped across the room to the other side of the bed and climbed in also, making sure to stay as far on my side as I could get without falling out of it.

  “Come here, Delaine.”

  He had to be joking. It wasn’t enough that I was sleeping in the nude? It wasn’t enough that he was sleeping in the nude? It wasn’t enough that we had just brushed our teeth in the nude after he fucked my mouth in the nude and made me think about him having wild orgies in the bathtub in the nude? Now he wanted to snuggle in the nude, too?

  “I said c
ome here.” His arm stretched across the space between us and wrapped around my waist, yanking me into his chest. “There, that’s better,” he said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. “You better get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

  How was I supposed to be able to sleep with a humongous cock pressed to my ass?

  3

  rub-a-dub-dub

  Noah

  I awoke the next morning, my body still heavy with sleep, my dick hard as a fucking rock and wedged between something warm and soft. My hand was cupped around something unmistakably feminine and perky, and I squeezed it to make sure it was real. I hate fake tits, and even though I had seen Delaine’s through the scrap of fabric she’d been wearing at the club—and then really saw them when I made her strip for me last night—you just never knew for sure until you felt them. The cosmetic surgery industry was making progress in leaps and bounds, but they could never compare to a perfect set of real tits in your hands.

  And make no mistake about it: these were real, and undeniably perfect.

  I ran my thumb over her nipple, thoroughly enjoying the way it pebbled under my touch. Delaine might have a mouth on her—boy, did she ever have a mouth on her—but I suspected that once she’d experienced my touch, she’d use that mouth to beg me for more rather than to see how many of my buttons she could push in a single breath.

  Regretfully I climbed out of bed, and it didn’t escape my notice that Delaine groaned in protest. She was still in a deep sleep and likely didn’t realize what she was doing. Had she been awake, I’m sure she would’ve been relieved.

  That fact should’ve made me feel like an asshole—after all, I, a perfect stranger, was making her do things she didn’t really want to do—but she was the one who’d signed on for this. Besides, there were indications that she quite possibly liked being forced to unleash the sexual beast that she’d kept hidden away all of her life. I’d seen the look in her eyes when she had my cock in her mouth last night. She loved it, which was a good thing, because I planned on sticking my cock there a whole lot more.

  I trudged to the bathroom and ran a hot bath in my oversized Jacuzzi. It would be the first time I’d used it since I had found them there.

  I was the primary shareholder of my father’s company, Scarlet Lotus. My mother, Elizabeth, who had been a Buddhist, had named the company. The lotus flower starts as a seed in the mud beneath a body of water and gradually grows upward until it reaches the surface to bloom. The color red symbolizes love, passion, compassion, and all matters of the heart. My father, Noah senior, felt the name suited the company well. Scarlet Lotus was where people could bring their unique ideas—ideas that were near and dear to their hearts, but which they just didn’t have the capital to bring to fruition—and watch them grow until they blossomed. For a portion of the proceeds, Scarlet Lotus helped them do just that. My mother had insisted that the company give back to the community, and so charity work had become just as much a part of what we did as idea development.

  My parents had died in a car accident almost six years ago, leaving everything to me: the money, the house, and all the shares of the company that my father had owned. None of it could ever begin to replace them, and I was nowhere near deserving.

  My father’s partner, Harrison Stone, had retired three years ago and handed over all of his stock to his only son, David. David and I had been the best of friends while growing up. With our parents’ success, it was nearly impossible to tell who was befriending you because they genuinely liked you and who was just sucking up to you because of the money. David and I had learned the hard way that we could only depend on each other. We were always getting into trouble, spurring each other on to do the most ridiculous stunts. Of course, our parents always cleaned up our messes; they couldn’t have the heirs of the Scarlet Lotus fortune all over the tabloids. It would have been very bad for business. Plus we’d be running the company someday, and no one in their right mind would put their valuable ideas in the hands of a couple of punks with a reputation for screwing up.

  I’d just never thought I’d be twenty-two and fresh out of college when my day came. David had already been shadowing his father by that point and really learning the ropes. Together we were invincible, and we quickly became the talk of the business world. When we became partners, like our fathers, we already knew we were a good fit.

  Or so we thought.

  It turned out that David had never agreed with how much money the company was “squandering” on charitable deeds. He was a greedy motherfucker and thought lining his own pocket was far more important than helping the less fortunate. But it had been my mother’s passion, and thus my father’s, so I wasn’t budging. Plus, it made me feel really good to give something back.

  About a year ago I had flown to New York to meet with an agency that specialized in community projects to keep kids off the streets. When I had returned, I found David in my Jacuzzi with Julie, my girlfriend of two years.

  To be precise, he was fucking her in the ass while she screamed, “Your cock is bigger than Noah’s!”

  That was a lie. I walked in on them, so I saw for myself. Regardless, I wasn’t exactly worried about that point at the time. I was in love with Julie, and David knew it. Well, I’d thought I was in love with her.

  He also knew I had planned on asking her to marry me when I got back from that trip, and he’d done his best to talk me out of it. David was a chauvinistic ass. He truly believed that the only thing a woman was good for was satiating his sexual desires.

  “Keep ’em naked and on their knees or back twenty-four/seven, and make sure they know their place,” he’d said. “There’s too much pussy in the world to be tied down to one woman.”

  He’d told me men like us couldn’t trust any woman because they were all a bunch of gold-digging whores anyway; either they wanted a fat bank account or they wanted a fat cock. He thought I was stupid for falling in love, that it made me vulnerable and weak.

  He was right. I was broken after I caught him with Julie, but so was his nose, a kneecap, and three of his ribs.

  He’d fucked her just to prove a point. And although our friendship was over, the partnership was not. It wasn’t that I didn’t try to buy him out. I did, but he’d refused to sell. And there was no way I was giving up the company my father and mother had worked so hard to build. So I bit the bullet and went to work every day with my head held high and conducted business as usual.

  I learned my lesson and refused to let a woman get close enough to hurt me again.

  But I was lonely. And slightly addicted to pussy.

  Sure, I’d had flings with several women, but I’d always cut them off the second they got a little too close for comfort. Sex was a very therapeutic way for me to get out my frustrations, but women didn’t seem to want to stick around for just that purpose. There were some who had said they understood that it was just sex for me, but inevitably they’d get clingy and want me to feel things I simply didn’t and wouldn’t, so they had to go.

  I could have random one-night stands, but that was like playing Russian roulette with my dick, even with a condom, and I’d grown quite attached to it over my young life, thank you very much.

  What I wanted was the same woman in my bed every night and every morning, someone to greet me when I arrived home after a long and trying day at work, eager to please me. Someone who would tend to my every need, no strings attached. Yeah, I knew it was every man’s fantasy and that it wasn’t likely to come true for most men, but I had enough money to buy that fantasy. So I did.

  And that was what had led me to Delaine.

  In my world, there was always talk between men. You hear about women gossiping all the time, but men are just as guilty. The difference is that we don’t make it as obvious.

  One afternoon when I had been golfing with a Scarlet Lotus investor, I’d heard about the auction. I’d done what little research I could on the place, and after speaking to the proprietor, my interest was piqued. Obviously I didn??
?t want to own someone against her will, but Scott had assured me that women on the “menu” were there voluntarily and that on that night in particular I could find a virgin. A virgin was necessary. I was worried about diseases or spending an insane amount of money on a woman only to find out that she was already knocked up with some other guy’s baby.

  That wasn’t the least bit appealing to me.

  As I sat in that booth, completely darkened because I didn’t want anyone to recognize me, I let every girl showcased go without even so much as a bid. That is, until she stood on the podium. Delaine Talbot.

  I had read through her specs and the contract she proposed and was intrigued. I had naturally wondered what would make a seemingly wholesome woman like her do such an outlandish thing, but I pushed my curiosity down because, like I said, I didn’t want there to be any strings attached. She was offering two years on the contract, and that was right up my alley. Two years of constantly getting my rocks off in any way I could fathom was plenty of time to get it out of my system or find someone else. And when she was gone, I could always cite the age-old reason “We just grew apart.”

  When I saw Delaine I knew that I had to have her.

  Not only was the contract ideal, but she was a perfect specimen. She looked just as wholesome as her specs, not overly voluptuous or fake-looking. I had wavered at the end of the auction, not really sure if I wanted to follow through, but then she gave me this look, like she was silently begging me to keep her out of the grasp of the disgusting tub of lard in the other room.

  I might have felt a little sorry for her, which probably should have been the first indication that this was a bad idea. But I made the final bid regardless.

  The second indication had come when she had gotten on her knees and sunk her teeth into my dick. That hurt like a motherfucker and let me know without a doubt that I’d bitten off more than I could chew—which was ironic, because she had been the one doing the biting, but whatever. The point is that she’d never even given a goddamn blow job before. Really? I knew she was a virgin, but in my experience most virgins had at least done other things to get off without breaking the seal, so to speak.