Page 63 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

His words should have been degrading, but they only served to stoke the fires of my arousal. I was beyond shame, beyond rational thought. All that mattered was the feel of Matt’s body against mine, the relentless drive of his cock inside me.

Before I could respond, Matt’s cock plunged into me again, the force of his thrust slamming me against the cool glass. He fucked me with a brutal intensity, each stroke a powerful reminder of his dominance—and my surrender.

The view of the city blurred before my eyes as he drove into me over and over again, the world outside fading into insignificance as I lost myself in the storm of his passion.

There was something thrillingly illicit about being displayed so brazenly, my body bared for any wandering eye that might chance a glance up at the towering penthouse. The thought of being watched, of being so exposed and vulnerable, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through my veins.

“Look at you, pet,” Matt murmured against my ear, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. “So desperate and needy, aching for my cock. Who do you belong to, pet? Who owns this tight little ass?”

Before I could muster a retort, Matt’s hand was on my face, his fingers biting into my cheek as he turned my head to meet his intense gaze.

His other hand wrapped around my chest like an iron chain, the grip unyielding as he pinned me against the glass.

My bound wrists and arms were held up over me, my legs spread apart as Matt claimed me with a savagery that left me breathless.

His cock drove into me again and again, each powerful thrust forcing a cry from my lips. The window fogged with the heat of our bodies, my own hard cock pressed against the cool glass, leaving a trail of my arousal as evidence of my shameful desire.

I came hard, my body convulsing as my release spurted, painting the window in streaks of white, a shameless display of my surrender to his dominance.

But Matt didn’t relent. He fucked me through my climax, his cock unyielding as it pushed me toward another peak.

I came twice more, my cum splattering against the window with each brutal thrust.

Then, with a savage growl, Matt turned my face toward him, his lips crashing against mine in a fierce, punishing kiss.

His tongue was an invading force, fucking my mouth with the same ruthless rhythm as his cock inside me.

I was helpless against the onslaught, my own tongue battling his in a futile attempt at defiance, to assert some semblance of control.

But I was losing this battle, surrendering to the savage claiming of my mouth, my body, my very soul.

And then it happened. A fourth mindless, body-racking climax tore through me, so intense that it bordered on pain.

My inner muscles clenched around Matt’s cock, milking him with a desperation that I hadn’t known I possessed.

I felt Matt’s cock swell within me, felt the hot jets of his release as he came deep inside me, marking me in the most primal way possible.

I thought it was over. I thought we were done. But as Matt’s orgasm subsided, he showed no signs of stopping. His cock, still hard inside me, resumed its insistent rhythm, each stroke reigniting the fire that threatened to consume us both.

This time, Matt lifted me up, my legs spread out before the world, my hard cock stiff in the air like a steel rod, coated in my own cum. His cock drove deep inside me, fucking me with a brutal intensity that left me gasping for air.

My head was spinning from the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain when I heard his words, a sultry command that seemed to echo inside my very soul. “Show them, pet,” he said. “Let them see who you belong to.”

His lips came crashing down on mine once more, a demanding, bruising kiss. He wanted—no, needed—to hear me say it, to give voice to the truth that was written in every line of my body.

“Who do you belong to, Andy?” His breath was hot against my skin, his voice a low growl that resonated deep within my chest. “Say it, pet. Tell me who owns this tight little ass.”

But I was too dazed, too out of sorts from the mind-numbing orgasms he’d wrung from my body.

My mind was a whirlwind of sensation, my thoughts scattered to the four winds.

I couldn’t form words, couldn’t give voice to the surrender he demanded, couldn’t give voice to the truth that my body had already betrayed.

Matt’s response was a thrust so hard and deep that it stole the breath from my lungs.

He fucked me with a renewed fury—harder, faster, his cock an inexorable piston that drove all rational thought from my mind.

I squirmed beneath him, my body pinned against the glass by the force of his thrusts, but there was no escape.

I was trapped, utterly at his mercy, and the knowledge of my helplessness only made my cock ache with need.

“Who do you belong to, hmm?” he demanded again.

A whimper escaped my lips, the sound raw and needy. My body arched into his, seeking the sweet agony of his possession, desperate for the release that only he could give me.

“You…” I finally gasped out, the admission torn from me as another orgasm ripped through my body. “I belong… to you… Matt… Caine. I’m… yours…”

My release was a shock to my system, my body convulsing with the force of my climax, my cum once again painting the window in streaks of white as Matt’s feral growl of triumph filled my ears. He followed me over the edge, his cock pulsing inside me as he spurted hot seed deep inside my ass.

We both collapsed against the window, our bodies slick with sweat and our breaths coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Matt kissed my forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture that was at odds with the savagery of our lovemaking.

“That’s a good pet,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and satisfaction.

Then, with a gentleness that belied his earlier ferocity, Matt lifted me from the window and carried me to the plush sofa. He settled me onto his lap, my body still trembling from the aftershocks.

His cock, still semihard, nestled against my ass as he began to move again. But this time, it was different. The pace was slow and gentle, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to reach deep into my chest and squeeze my heart.

I clung to him, my arms and legs winding around his body as I buried my face against the firm column of his neck. I breathed in the scent of him, a heady mix of sweat and the musky cologne that seemed to cling to his skin.

Matt’s hands were gentle as they roamed over my body, tracing the lines and curves of my flesh as if memorizing them.

His lips found mine in a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of more than just physical desire.

It was a kiss that reached into the depths of my soul, laying bare all the walls and defenses I’d built up over the years.

We moved together in a rhythm, our bodies in perfect sync as we sought to reaffirm the connection that bound us together.

There was no rush, no urgency this time.

Just the two of us, lost in the moment, our lovemaking a slow, sensual dance that promised to go on and on.

It was a beautiful, bittersweet agony, and as we gave ourselves over to the pleasure of the moment, I realized that I was lost to this man in ways that I had never imagined possible.

I was his, in every way that mattered. Matt Caine had done more than just claim my body. He’d claimed my heart as well.

M y mind was a foggy wasteland, the details of how I ended up back in the penthouse lost to the haze of lust and exhaustion. I couldn’t recall the journey from Matt’s office to here; it seemed likely I’d been swept up in his arms, too dazed to notice the world spinning by.

Now, as the water cascaded over us, I stood still, trying to regain my bearings.

Matt’s hands moved over my body with a tenderness that was at odds with the fierce intensity of our earlier coupling.

He washed me with the kind of care one might reserve for something precious, something cherished.

His touch was light, almost reverent, as he traced the lines of my muscles, the curve of my spine, the dip of my waist. And then there were his kisses, soft presses of his lips against my skin that left a trail of warmth in their wake.

The back of my neck, my shoulders, my back, my chest, my nipples—each kiss felt like a silent promise, a vow.

I felt his breath on my ear, and shivers danced down my back despite the warm water cascading over us. “Andy,” he murmured, and something in his voice clawed at me, desperate to respond.

When we stepped out of the shower, he patted me dry with a tenderness that felt like a betrayal to my resolve.

He insisted on helping me dress, his hands deftly buttoning my shirt, tucking it into my jeans.

All the while, I avoided his gaze; looking at him was like staring into the sun—blinding and too intense.

My heart pounding in my chest as the reality of my feelings for him settled over me like a shroud.

I was in love with Matt Caine. The realization was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

I had never been in love before, had never given any man that kind of power over me.

And yet here I was, utterly and irrevocably lost to him.

Matt Caine owned every part of me—body and soul—and it was too much to bear.

Dressed and utterly spent, I collapsed onto the sofa, a regal sprawl of limbs that felt boneless with fatigue.

He took his time getting dressed, moving with a grace and confidence that only served to underscore his power and status.

When he was done, he came over to me, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Behave, pet,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made my heart flutter despite my resolve. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”