One Weekend with the Billionaire Chapter 59

*Julia*

At first, I only want Braxton to hold me in his strong arms and assure me that I am okay, that nothing has changed in the few days that we’ve been apart, that he still loves me and wants me. But the longer I linger in his embrace, the more I realize I want more from him.

I want him.

I nuzzle my face against his neck, and his grip around my shoulders increases. We are sitting on a couch in the living room of his apartment. His place, even this small one that isn’t actually his home, is large and well appointed. It makes the shitty little apartment I shared with Jeff look like a hovel. But my eyes are not on the room. They are on the man. I inhale deeply, wrapping his scent around my insides. I have missed the smell of him, the smell of a true man, the smell of someone who is strong, secure, and loves me.

My lips peck against the sensitive skin of his neck, lightly at first, but then increasing as I am overcome with the emotions welling up inside of me. I can’t deny the fact that I want him. I can’t pretend that my body doesn’t automatically respond just being close to him.

He seems reluctant at first, as if he is not sure that I am making a conscious decision to kiss him. He may think that I am too traumatized by my fight with Jeff to be thinking straight.

He’s not completely wrong since I am probably not thinking so straight at the moment, but it has nothing to do with Jeff. The longer I am in Braxton’s embrace, the more I lose my mind. I am no longer thinking with my brain; I am just responding to the man who is holding me so tightly yet so gently.

I kiss his strong jaw, and he lowers his head to look at me. I can see the question in his eyes. He’s asking, “Are you sure?” I nod briefly and then raise my lips to brush against his. It is my second kiss that gets a response from him. It is a light kiss at first, but then, I can feel the urgency within Braxton, the same as it is in me. He raises a hand to the back of my head, pressing me to him. His tongue slides between my lips and I welcome the taste of him. He is just as sweet as he was two days ago. Has it been that long since I have had him in my mouth? That’s far too long.

Our kissing intensifies as our hands roam everywhere, pulling and tugging on clothing, pressing through barriers. He does not take his time, and I do not want him to. Soon, we are both stripped of all of the obstacles that have stood between us, and we are naked in each other’s arms on his couch.

I mount him fluidly, dripping wet with my lust for him. Braxton slides inside of me as if he is meant to be there, fitting me perfectly. I gasp with the feel of him as I begin to move my hips on either side of him. Having his thick cock inside of me again is like returning home after being away on a journey for many years. I close my eyes and lift my head to the ceiling as he presses my hips so that we are grinding together. He is hitting me in all of the right spots.

Braxton lowers his head and takes a nipple between his lips, sucking, pulling, nipping. His other hand pulls my other peak until it is hard and erect, longing for its turn to feel his tongue against it. When he switches, I let out a moan and glide my hand along the back of his head, my fingers splaying against his hair. I can’t get enough of him.

It doesn’t take me long to lose myself completely, though. I am panting, calling his name, interspersed with curse words as I come undone. Braxton lets go of my breasts and kisses my neck, lighting my flesh on fire. His hands knead my bottom as he thrusts deeper, stronger, faster. I can hardly breathe. My head lurches forward against his shoulder. “God, I love you so much,” I say in a broken exhale.

Braxton fills me completely with his seed. I feel his warmth spreading inside of me as his muscles tighten and he grunts. Then, our foreheads are together, our arms around one another, and I wonder how I ever managed to let go of him to begin with. Why would I ever do that? How could I possibly ever let this man go again? Without the weight of a meaningless ring on my finger, I know for certain I cannot be away from this man even one more day.

“I love you so much, Julia,” he says with such emotion, I think I might cry. I think he might cry.

“I love you, too,” I remind him as I gently stroke his cheek. Then, I kiss him with all of the remaining passion I have pent up inside of me. I am exhausted from the tip of my head to the bottom of my toes, and I know I will fall asleep soon, comfortable in his embrace and certain that when I open my eyes again, Braxton will be there.