Page 213 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 2

God, I was getting wet just thinking about him spanking me.

“So don’t pretend for a second that you’re not excited about this.” He grabbed the front of my strapless dress and pulled it down.

I felt my nipples harden from the cold.

“Or that you don’t secretly love the idea of my friends knowing what I’m about to do to you. Because they know. They’re probably picturing it right now. Wishing they were me.” He grabbed my exposed breasts and I moaned.

He chuckled and removed his hands. “This is going to be fun.”

“This is completely inappropriate, James. Our baby is going to sleep here.”

“So it’s only appropriate that we christen this room now instead of later, don’t you think?”

Well, he had a point there. It was better that we fucked in here now instead of when the baby was born. “Fine, but we’re not keeping the walls black.” Our baby would not be sleeping in a sex dungeon.

James laughed. “Of course not. But before we paint it whatever blue you decide on, we’re going to make the most of this room.”

“This sex dungeon.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he said. He pulled my dress lower and I heard the fabric rip. Yeah, there was no way he was getting that over my pregnant belly or hips.

“Did you just rip my dress?”

He didn’t respond, but he grabbed my ankle and cuffed it into something just like he had with my wrists.

“James, just unshackle me so I can get undressed.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He grabbed my other ankle and shackled it. “Your dress was strapless and you weren’t wearing a bra.” He grabbed the sides of my thong and ripped the material off. “You’re already naked, baby.”

“Stop ripping my clothes!”

“Don’t make me put a gag in your mouth.”

Would he? I pressed my lips together. And more importantly...would I like it?

“Good girl,” he said.

I’d barely gotten a good look at the nursery sex dungeon, but there must have been speakers put in, because suddenly we were surrounded by the sounds of mumbled chants. It wasn’t sexy. It was creepy. “James, what the hell is that?”

“Worshippers. We’re in a temple. You grew up going to a Catholic church. Don’t tell me you never thought about your priest taking you into a confessional booth and having his way with you.”

“The priests at my church were old and bald.”

“Hmm. Well, imagine if one of them looked like me. Would you have pictured it then?”

Of course I would have.

It’s like he knew what I was thinking. Because even though I didn’t respond, he lightly brushed a finger against my clit. “Imagine me eye-fucking you from the altar.”

I swallowed hard.

“Waiting till I could get you alone for a moment after the sermon.” His thumb slid lower, brushing against my wetness.

Mmm.

“I think you’d linger in the pew once everyone left. Hoping we’d have a moment alone.”

His thumb slid inside of me, his fingers digging into my ass cheek. “I think you would have dreamt of what we’d do if we were ever alone, without a whole congregation watching our every move. Isn’t that right?”