Page 22 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Next go-round? I nearly choked. My brain screamed in protest at the idea of a repeat performance, at least not anytime soon. My body was thoroughly wrung out, buzzing like a live wire.
I tried to scramble away from him, but Matt was faster—stronger.
In one swift motion, he hauled me into his embrace and pinned me up against the headboard.
I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt him, his hard cock sliding into me again.
I couldn’t believe it—he was relentless! How was he ready to go again so soon?
“You’re insatiable!” I gasped, my eyes wide as I took in his fierce expression.
Matt’s only response was a low chuckle, his eyes glittering with possessiveness. “I aim to please, darling. And it seems I’ll need to work harder to please you.”
With that, he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, sending tremors of sensation through me once more.
Damn him! How could my body still be so receptive, so eager for more after the way he’d just wrecked me?
But there was no denying it—the pleasure was building again, coiling tight in my core as Matt’s merciless rhythm took hold.
“You—ahh—you’re insane,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his biceps as I tried to maintain some semblance of control. “I—oh, fuck—I can’t?—”
Matt’s relentless rhythm left me a breathless mess, each thrust harder and faster than the last. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his biceps, struggling to anchor myself in the storm of sensation.
“You can’t what, pet?” Matt’s voice cut through the haze, taunting and oh-so-seductive.
“I can’t—ahh—take it anymore,” I gasped out, each word a struggle against the overwhelming pleasure. “It’s too much… I’m going crazy.”
Amusement danced in his stormy eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” he teased, even as his hips stuttered and he gripped my hips tighter, pulling me closer.
“Yes—no—I can’t,” I moaned, thoroughly incoherent. Despite my mind screaming for mercy, my legs wrapped tighter around his waist, my inner walls gripping his cock with a viselike intensity. I felt Matt’s breath hitch as he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of pleasure.
“Your mouth says no,” he growled, thrusting deeper and eliciting a sharp cry from me, “but your body’s telling a different story.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re squeezing the life out of my cock, and it feels fucking amazing.”
His dirty talk sent a shiver down my spine, igniting something primal within me. My body responded on instinct, tightening around him even more, every nerve ending aflame with desire as he picked up the pace. The friction was exquisite, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure escaping my lips.
Matt’s movements became almost feral, each powerful stroke leaving me gasping for air.
With every thrust, my cock rubbed against the silky friction of his abs, sending sparks of sensation through me.
The intensity between us grew hotter, more consuming with every second.
My senses were overwhelmed by the heat of his skin against mine, the slick slide of our bodies moving in perfect sync.
His eyes never left mine, locking me in place as he took us both to the brink.
“Look at you,” he murmured between ragged breaths. “So desperate for it.”
I could only whimper in response, my body trembling under his assault. The intensity of our coupling left me breathless, every thrust sending shock waves through me.
My muscles tightened further around him as he continued to pound into me with unrelenting force. The pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, my entire being consumed by the fire he’d ignited within me.
Matt’s own breathing grew more labored as he neared his peak, his movements becoming more erratic yet no less powerful. Each stroke felt like a brand on my soul, marking me as his.
“Fuck,” Matt growled into my ear, his voice rough and urgent. “You feel so damn good.”
His words sent another jolt of pleasure through me, making my toes curl.
My body arched into him, meeting each thrust with equal fervor as another orgasm built within me, hot and intense.
My mind may have been screaming for relief, but my body craved more—more of Matt’s heat, more of his touch, more of everything he had to give.
I was lost in the sensations—lost in him—as he drove us both toward oblivion, every second an eternity of bliss and torment intertwined.
My world narrowed down to the sensation of Matt’s relentless thrusts, each one driving me closer to the precipice.
Every nerve in my body felt electrified, like I was plugged into a live wire.
My breath hitched, my muscles tensed, and then—oh God—I came.
My climax ripped through me with the force of a hurricane, leaving me gasping and writhing.
Hot spurts of my release coated Matt’s abs, mingling with our sweat.
I could barely catch my breath, every fiber of my being alive with sensation. My vision blurred as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. My cock pulsed one last time, emptying itself completely against Matt’s rock-hard stomach.
Matt’s reaction was immediate. His eyes glazed over, darkening with an intensity that sent another shiver down my spine. His thrusts became erratic, each one more powerful than the last as he chased his own release.
And then he found it. With a low growl that vibrated through his chest, Matt buried himself deep inside me and came. I felt his hot release fill me, the sensation so intense it bordered on painful pleasure. His body shuddered above mine, muscles straining as he rode out his orgasm.
I watched him through half-lidded eyes, captivated by the raw beauty of his climax. The normally composed and powerful Matt Caine looked almost vulnerable in that moment, lost in his own pleasure.
When the waves of ecstasy finally subsided, we both collapsed in a tangle of limbs. Matt’s arms wrapped around me tightly, pulling me against his chest. Finally—finally—the horny beast billionaire was sated. Surely now I could wash up and get some sleep without worrying about being ravished again?
I let out a long, shuddering breath as Matt lifted himself off me. Every muscle in my body felt like jelly, utterly spent from the mind-blowing orgasms he’d just wrung out of me.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured, his voice still thick with satisfaction.
The second Matt hoisted me out of bed, relief washed over me at the realization that the beast had been temporarily sated. Maybe now I could actually get some damn rest. I was grateful to be manhandled into the bathroom without a word about going another round.
In the bathroom, I leaned against the cool tile, dazed as Matt took it upon himself to clean me up.
It was like being tended to by a particularly attentive statue—one sculpted by Michelangelo with a naughty streak.
My mind was a foggy mess, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the echo of pleasure that still hummed through my veins.
The last thing I remember before everything went black was Matt’s arms around me, carrying me back to bed like I weighed no more than a feather—or perhaps a particularly small and delicate pastry he was keen not to crush.
Waking up was like trying to see through a sandstorm—grainy and disorienting.
It took me a solid minute to remember where I was.
When reality crashed back in, it brought all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling of Matt’s bedroom, as the events of last night played in my head like some R-rated movie—except I wasn’t just watching; I’d starred in it.
A twinge of pain shot through me as I shifted in bed, an unpleasant reminder of just how real those memories were. “Damn,” I muttered to myself. My backside felt like it had gone ten rounds with a jackhammer—Matt’s brand of jackhammer.
I spotted a note on the side table and reached for it with all the enthusiasm of someone ripping off a Band-Aid—quick and bracing for pain. The sharp ache that zipped through my body made me curse under my breath. “Son of a?—”
The note was in Matt’s assertive scrawl. “Take it easy today. See you at dinner after work.”
“Chill for the day,” he says—as if I could do anything else with my body screaming every time I moved. Chilling wasn’t an option; it was self-preservation at this point.
With nothing left on the agenda but to recuperate, I let out a sigh and sank back into the pillows.
The ceiling was a masterpiece of architectural blandness. I glared at it, hoping my resentment might morph it into something more interesting, but no such luck. My stomach growled, a not-so-subtle reminder that the last meal had been hours and several… activities ago.
With the kind of groan that only the truly famished and recently bedded can muster, I reached for the phone by the bedside. “Room service? Yeah, hi. Can you send up your brunch menu? Everything on it. Yes, you heard me right—everything.”
I paused.
“And—oh, would you have Bruno bring it in? He’s probably lurking outside like the world’s most stoic jailer. Thanks.”
I flopped back onto the pillows, wincing slightly. Painkillers? Tempting thought. But I had a sneaking suspicion that numbing my senses would be a tactical error in this place—like going into battle with earplugs in and one hand tied behind your back.
Before long, there was a knock at the door—a knock that somehow managed to sound big and bulky. Bruno’s knock.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door swung open and in rolled a food cart that looked more like a feast fit for a king—or at least a very spoiled prince.
“Just leave it here, big guy,” I said, patting the space next to the bed, striving to sound casual, as if having an enforcer-turned-waiter was part of my everyday routine.