Page 106 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

“I’m not anymore. Please, please. I need you.”

I’d barely taken my next breath before he was shedding his clothes. It had to be a record for the time it took him to get naked. I looked over my shoulder to see his thick cock, dripping with precum and ready for me.

In one swift movement, he pulled my hips back and pushed my back down, bending me over. My hands sprawled on the mirror and my butt jutted out. He slammed inside me. Hard. I moaned. His hands gripped my hips as he pulled out almost all the way, only to thrust back inside me.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned, grinding against him. Then he rode me, hard and unapologetically. His skin slapping against mine. Flesh against flesh echoing in the bathroom.

I caught the image of us in the mirror. My orgasm coiling, building. The sight of him was magnificent. So big. So powerful. All mine.

His tanned skin glistened with perspiration as he dug his fingers into my hips. The look of sheer ecstasy as he watched me through hooded eyes—both of our gazes locked in the mirror—had me spiraling. This man made me lose my head.

“Harder,” I moaned.

He slapped my ass hard and growled, “I make the demands here.”

But his pace picked up and his thrusts came deeper and harder. I cried out, my insides clenching around his shaft. The orgasm that shattered through me stole my breath away.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Now it was his turn to scream out.

My body contracted around him as his cock jerked deep inside me. I shuddered with the intensity of it, both of us gasping for air.

My body still bent over, palms splayed against the mirror, Byron’s chest came down to cover my back as his lips brushed against my earlobe.

“Anything you want, baby,” he murmured, nuzzling my nape. “All you have to do is ask.”

I looked into his eyes, my heart bleeding and glowing at the same time. It scared me so much the control he had over my heart. Like no time had passed.

Chapter43

Odette

Ishowered for dinner, wrapped the towel around me, then skimmed through a fully stocked closet at a loss for what to wear. I preferred wearing casual, but Byron always seemed to be dressed in his Brioni—or was it Armani—suit.

A knock sounded and, gripping the towel around me, I padded to the door and opened it.

“Billie?” My eyes roamed around. “Is everything okay?”

She waved her hand. “Yes, just peachy.” She entered the bedroom, her eyes curiously skimming the room. “Wow, this room is much bigger than mine.”

My sister was dressed in a black Valentino dress with golden accents around her waist and on her shoulders. She looked gorgeous.

“Want me to ask him to give you his bedroom?” I joked. Her answer was an eyeroll. “You look beautiful.”

Her smile softened. “You can wear rags and you’d still shine. Your beauty is timeless.”

I chuckled. “You’re biased because you’re my sister.”

Her eyes traveled to the walk-in closet and she made her way to it. Her fingers skimmed over all the beautiful garments Byron had secured in the matter of a few hours. I had no idea who or how he did it.

“Did Byron yell at you?” she asked casually. The realization sunk in. She was worried about me. Her eyes found mine. “About the money.”

I shook my head. “No. I told you, he said he’s okay with it.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded. “He seemed off when we got back.”

Letting out a sigh, I said, “He wasn’t mad about that at all. I promise you.”