Page 95 of Trailer Park Billionaire

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my orgasm started the moment he slammed me against the RV, the moment our lips touched for the first time.

But that’s not a thing, is it?

An orgasmic feeling that just… won’t stop?

When I feel his breath on my pussy—his hands now firmly on my tits, tormenting my nipples with the most tantalizingpressure—I think maybe I am not coming just yet because, somehow, that sensation still builds, still grows.

When he finally encloses me entirely with his mouth, warmth spreads through my entire body. It spreads through every limb, makes me arch into his face without meaning to. Ben moans into me, looks up—his entire mouth and beard drenched—then he slowly pulls back.

“No, no, no,” I cry, grabbing his arms. “Just… just one more lick. Just… a little, little lick…” My hips move on their own, chasing him. But he stays just out of reach.

“Beg,” he commands coldly, blowing gently across my wetness, causing me to shiver.

How dare he?

“I already did, you fucker!”

That brings his devious grin back, paired with a chuckle that promises retribution. A second later, he’s already flipped me over onto my stomach, one hand pressing my head into the mattress.

“Okay, sorry,” I huff out, muffled against the sheets. “I didn’t mean that. What I meant to say was: how dare you torture an innocent, little woman like this, you barbarian!”

He laughs, deep and dark, then bows down to whisper in my ear: “I think we established long ago that there’s no innocent little woman in you, Helena. And right now, I’m going to treat you like the defiant little slut you actually are.”

His words nearly send me over the edge. Now all I need is the tiniest touch—just a little pressure, one lick, one stroke—to get me over.

Maybe if I rub my legs against each other.

Ben’s hand lands sharply on my ass. “Spread them,” he orders, slipping his fingers between my thighs, deliberately avoiding the spot I need him most.

This is the best torture I have ever experienced.

A moment later, I can hear him unbutton his shirt, perched comfortably on top of me. I try to turn my head to sneak a glimpse, but am rudely pushed back into the pillow.

“Avert your eyes, little woman. This is no sight forthe innocent.”

I try to turn once more, and he stops me again.

This is the worst torture I have ever experienced.

“Please, Ben. Please,” I huff, entirely out of breath. “Stop saying all the right words and doing all the wrong things. Unless you want me to fucking combust.”

“Stay,” he groans, and removes his hands.

I do as I’m told because I’m not sure how much longer I can endure, how much more of this I can take.

I need him.

In me.

On me.

All of it.

Everywhere.

I can only listen as Ben takes off the rest of his clothes.

Then I can feel him when he lowers his body onto mine, careful not to rest his full weight on me. I feel his cock press against my ass—hard as marble, yet pulsing like it’s about to explode.