In the Billionaire's Lair

ANNA MY HEART was pounding when I opened my eyes. I lay on top of the steamy sheets in my bed, my sweat a thin film, shimmering in the dark as it covered my naked body. My breathing was laboured, and I could feel the desperate pulsing of my s*x. “Not again,” I whispered in frustration. “Not him again.” Well, I dreamed of him again, his magnetic eyes boring down at me, his handsome face filled with the fiercest desire I had ever seen on a man’s face. His powerful body slid against my own and our limbs tangled on the bed. I dreamed of his c**k piercing me over and over in an erotic possession that made me want to wish it was all real. Every time I wake up, though, I was grateful to be alone. I knew nothing about him. He had no right to invade my bed and my dreams. I couldn’t wake up wet and trembling and wanting completion. He had no right to make me crave for something I would never have. Son of a b***h. But my body still vibrated with the memory of his lovemaking. Feeling like a wretch and grateful no one knew, I stood up and went down on my knees in front of my dresser to pull at the lowest drawer. There he was, in a box, my sweet Mr. Beefy, waiting for me as patiently as the last time I used him, which was last night. I was dreaming of the man every night now since last week. “Poor you. You’re going to work hard again, sweetheart,” I told it affectionately as I took it from the box. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And it did finish the job for me. But it was Mr. Dumas’ face that I saw behind my eyelids as I closed my eyes when I came hard…