Steamy Billionaire Stories Collection

LUKE

Cambridge was nothing more but a place my father threw me to spend the next six months of living. It was where I lost everything that shined brightly before my eyes. And this was where I built my dreams, but shattered into a thousand pieces.

Every friend I had in this dump was now an enemy. This was where "loyalty" and "compassion" was ripped from me.

To deal with everything once more, I should at least enjoy myself in every possible way. I'd booked a suite at the Ritz Carlton, where I was leaning on the bed, tangling the hair of a woman devouring my shaft.

She was teasingly sliding her tongue around my tip. "Do you want it like this?" She looked up at me. I groaned and didn't answer. I pushed her head down as she pressed her lips to cover my whole. Over the whole three hours, I bent her over the table and fucked her endlessly.

It was satisfying, yes, but in the next few days, I had to find someone else.

And then she took me in her mouth again. The pleasure was building up through me, my legs stiffened, and my body was telling me to let go. I slightly pushed her head away, but she didn't move. She went down deeper and sucked me harder. I scowled and tried to pull her even more, but it was too late, but I came in her mouth.

She looked at me, hungrily, and then she swallowed every last drop.

Not bad.

When she's finally moving away, I sprang then zipped my pants.

"It's my first time swallowing, you know, " she informed.

"You shouldn't have, " I said coldly. I need to go.

"Shall we have dinner and then go on with a few rounds?"

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What happened when you agreed that there wouldn't be the next round?"

That was how exactly women wanted it to start. A senseless conversation, sex, and at the end of the day, she would begin to think there was something more. I was done with that.

"Can't you consider since we've been talking for a few days? It's the examinations this coming week, and I have no time to open my account to chat with you?"

Right, yes. I met her online. I'd met her on MeetandGreet, an online dating site. Her profile said she was a professor at a University.

"No. Thanks. I need to go somewhere else."

"Hmm, why don't we just tell each other something real? My name's Chloe, and I'm not a professor but an undergraduate from Boston University. I'm not really from Harvard. I drove here several hours to meet you, and I don't give my real names to a stranger." She smiled sheepishly as if her lies were something to brag about.

"What, you just screw with them, is that it?" I shook my head in disbelief. The fact that she lied about her name and school was a major turned off. "Are you going to stay here, or do you need fare for the cab?"

"How dare you?" she cursed, her voice raised.

"Is there something wrong with my question?"

"Wow..." She shook her head. "Someday, you'll regret doing this."

"Regret doing what?"

"This. Making a woman waste their time and hope that you're interested, and then you'll fuck her, and then you'll move on to the next."

"I never gave hopes." Where's my wallet? Damn it.

"One day, you'll find your own taste of medicine, " she continued.

Oh, there it is. "You know what, Chloe, or whatever your name is, I don't give a fuck what you think of my future."

***

Five years ago, Harvard was my favorite place. It was where I sat, dreamed, hoped, fell in love, and spent days with the people I trusted. I created my own world with the people I loved, but all of it ended up a broken dream when I found the person I loved the most fucking another man.

I wasn't a dramatic kind of person, well, I was. I was sentimental, compassionate, and considerate-which I now despise about myself.

Fortunately, I was able to redeem half of myself when Dad remarried. My stepmother, Gene, was a bit unacceptable at first. However, she showed me that I could trust another person other than Jake, or Aries. And to end this fucking overview of my life, I liked the person I'd become. At least no one would dare get inside of me again, see through me, and break my trust.

I'd been looking for a woman to screw online since last year. I found it entertaining and interesting, knowing that I could choose whoever I want to screw without commitments.

I never trusted a woman online-all I wanted was their wet core. I scrolled through my inbox and checked if I had emails from women I could meet this weekend.

I deleted the other messages I wasn't in, especially fake profiles. Then, another email popped up. The message was from Ericka. The one and only email I kept in my inbox for some compelling reason. She was twenty-eight, a Harvard graduate, working in an IT company in Cambridge. We'd been sending senseless emails for three months. She was fun to talk to, and she was sexy as fuck when she started the dirty talks.

I opened her message.

Subject: I need help

I need help on deleting your unlimited messages. What is this all about? There were tons of woman to find in this app, and you're supposed to be with one because it's Saturday and yet, you're interrupting me in the middle of my meditation because my mother was trying to set me up to a loser and that loser was my ex-boyfriend I dumped last month. Well, it's not her fault. She didn't know about him.

- Ericka

Subject: Re: I need help

Well, I was waiting for you to finally open your account to tell you that I'm in Cambridge right now, just a few steps away from you.

Maybe this is the right time to finally show yourself to me. You've been teasing me for three months with your smart ass mouth.

But, I don't think that you need help on anything, but you just wanted to tell me your loser ex-boyfriend.

Now, will you tell me where are you right now, so we could talk face to face?

- Jax

Subject: Re: Re: I need help

Well Jax, I already told you that I'm sharing a room with a female. There's no chance we could meet. However, even if I'm alone, I will never show my face to you. It's against my rules. I never meet a man online.

- Ericka

Damn it. I tossed the phone on the bed. We'd met through an app ProExpress Chat founded at Harvard. It was a simple social networking application which only allows the user to chat anonymously. No profile pictures, feeds, comment box or even blogs, nothing, just an inbox and a few details such as name and age, gender, relationship status, and occupation.

Every user must be a professional and a graduate of Harvard. You must be invited by the admins for the registration link. It's either you were a doctor, a professor, architect, artist, or a CEO (like me). I never wanted to try the app, but since I don't mix any of my shits anymore, but only hard sex. I gave it a try.

The app was intended for professional chat only, but I say, screw the rules. My one protocol was to get their personal number so I could call them.

And I had Ericka's number.

"Why don't you just give me your address and your real name? I'm tired of just talking to you over the phone."

She laughed, deliciously. I just liked hearing her voice. "We'll never meet. It's impossible. Besides, I'm busy."

"I don't care anymore about your excuses. Would you like to know my address and my name? I just moved in."

"I don't know why you're in Cambridge right now, but I'm not interested. I can't lose a friend when you only want is one night, and then you're done. You're going to throw me away, just like the others."

"I'm very sure that it won't be just one night for us, " I admitted. "I can make an exception since you've gained my trust."

"Oh, really? This should be good."

"Yes, so what tell me? I'll be willing to come and get you."

"I don't think so. Hey, I need to go Jax."

"Wait! Okay. I'm giving you a week. If you don't show yourself to me, I'm done talking with you."

She chuckled. "I'm sure you won't do that."

"I am sure that I would."

"No, you won't."

"Why not?"

"Because you like the sound of my voice."

"I'm pretty sure I like the sound of you, moaning." I sighed. "Look, I can't continue our friendship like this. I need to see you. One week, Ericka."

"I can't. I'm going to New York to see my parents this week. Did you remember? It's been a long time since I last saw my mother."

"That's good then. I'll put New York to my schedule this week, and then I'll meet you. I'll take you to New York."

Silence.

"Ericka?"

"What? I don't know. I can't promise."

"Listen to me very carefully. I'm very good at tracking people. I could find anyone in just one blink and the only reason I wasn't doing it because I respected that you're not ready. But, this isn't going anywhere. I need to be buried inside you. I would like to hear you scream my name, my real name, and devour every inch of you. If you don't say yes, I'm going to find you."

I heard her skipping a breath. "Don't you think it's illegal?"

"I will take every risk."

"Jax, " she called. "Okay, but not this week but next two weeks. Please? This week is a bad time."

"Done. Fourteen days and you will tell me your address. Fourteen fucking days, Ericka or we're done."

"Okay! Okay! Stop intimidating me."

"Good. That's good then, Ericka. Good night."