Page 227 of Mr. Beast


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Guess I should probably get up soon, I thought tiredly.

I liked my sleep and had gotten too used to sleeping in since graduating college. I wasn’t really looking forward to starting any sort of job but knew my dad wouldn’t let me get away with being a pampered and spoiled rich kid who didn’t do anything to contribute to society.

I rolled over onto my back, sighing with pleasure at the warmth and comfort of my bed. I’d chosen a ridiculously large, ornate, four-poster bed with engraved wood and embroidered curtains. It was beautiful but looked a little out of place in the modern surroundings of the purpose-built mansion my dad had commissioned after finally accepting how wealthy he was. Even still, his eyes had watered when he saw how much the bed had cost.

I snuggled farther into the covers and closed my eyes, my mind wandering.

There’s probably enough room for two Cruz Millers in this bed…

I began to visualize the curtains being drawn back on either side of me as two huge, muscled figures climbed onto the bed.

I didn’t think I could handle two, though. One would have been plenty enough…

I smiled to myself and adjusted the fantasy in my mind, one of the imaginary Cruzes disappearing to leave me alone with the other.

I imagined looking up at the figure kneeling on the bed beside me, skin taut over huge muscles, wearing nothing but some tight and revealing boxers. His big hand reaching down to brush my hair from my face, then running down my chest to gently squeeze one of my breasts. I grabbed my left breast to accentuate the fantasy. Whereas my hand was barely large enough to give my breast a good squeeze, I guessed Cruz’s was large enou

gh to fit most of it in just one of his.

I shuddered slightly at the thought, the fantasy deepening. In my mind, I leaned over, looking up at him, his handsome scarred face looking down at my naked chest. I imagined slowly pulling his boxers down. My mind visualized what would be under them, large and stiff…

I ran my hand down my stomach, under my panties…

Until there was a loud knock at my door.

I sighed in frustration. Great timing.

I hadn’t taken care of myself in a while now, and I was beginning to get more and more sexually frustrated as the days passed.

I guess I’ll get some alone time in the hotel.

Before I could stop myself, my thoughts lingered on Cruz and his large hands…

And then I remembered the knock at the door. “Come in!” I shouted, drawing back the curtain of my four-poster bed.

The door opened slowly, and Olivia’s head poked out from behind it.

“Wake up lazy!” she shouted, smiling. Olivia had always been an early riser and bored easily. She had probably lost interest in attempting to wake Lucy, who could sleep through anything.

“I am awake! I’m just dozing,” I said. “What’s up, anyway?”

“I’m hungry. Breakfast?” She approached the bed. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?” she asked, noticing my flushed cheeks. She hesitated suddenly, raising a hand to her mouth. “Oh, did I… interrupt something?” She poked me and started laughing.

“No!” I said, a little too indignantly. She’d probably already made up her own mind about what I was doing before she entered though, and no doubt would tell Lucy all about it later. “It’s just hot under these covers,” I lied. “What do you want to eat?” I asked, changing the subject. Olivia loved food. Especially expensive food.

“Hmmm. Reckon your dad’s housekeeper will knock us up some pancakes and bacon?”

“Good idea. I could use some strong coffee as well. All this champagne is catching up to me. Meet you downstairs!” I shouted as she walked out.

*

A little while later, I walked into the large kitchen to find Olivia at the breakfast bar devouring pancakes with bacon and maple syrup.

“Jeez, you couldn’t wait?” I said good-naturedly. “Morning, Sue,” I said to my dad’s housekeeper, who served as a maid, chef, cleaner, and general helper around the house. She lived here most of the time and had her own suite at the end of the mansion.

“Morning, love,” she replied in her strong British accent, turning to face me. “I’m afraid your hungry friend couldn’t wait for you to get down here. She said she was bloody starving, bless her.” Sue gave a motherly smile. “Yours will be ready in two minutes, dear. There’s coffee in the machine.” She waved a finger absently at the coffee machine, turning back to finish cooking the fresh pancakes, which smelled delicious.

I grabbed a large cup of coffee, added lots of cream and sugar, and joined Olivia at the bar. She had nearly finished her breakfast.

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