Page 87 of The Billionaire's Secret

He reaches the door and my pulse rate ratchets up. Surely, he is not going to walk away, while I am hungry and aching and wanting…wanting. My skin feels too tight for the rest of my body. His massive shoulders fill the doorway. I take in his narrow waist, the tight fit of his pants cross his gorgeous arse… My sex clenches. I inch my fingers toward my clit. He raises his hand over his shoulder, "Don’t you dare, Gigi."

"What?"

"You will not bring yourself to orgasm. Have you forgotten about that?"

"The hell?"

"Hell is when I bring you to the edge of coming a few more times, when you walk around throbbing for my dick to fill you up, for my lips on you, my fingers inside your arsehole, for every part of me teasing you up the slope only to…"

"To," I breathe.

"To leave you unfulfilled, of course."

He shoulders open the door. I walk my fingers toward my center once more.

"If you disobey me… I’ll…"

I swallow. "What? What will you do?"

"I’ll punish you and the spankings you’ve received so far will seem like I’ve been teasing you all along."

"As if you’d know," I scoff.

He turns to survey me, "Oh, trust me, I will. Your every orgasm belongs to me from now on. Do you understand?"

21

Saint

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I swear as I swipe myself from root to head. My dick lengthens and my balls throb. I slap my other hand against the wall of the restroom on the ground floor of the hotel. Pathetic.

I’d walked out of my suite, commanding her not to come. The call could not be put off; so I had made it out, completed my errand, and returned to the hotel, in record time.

But damn if I am heading back to my room. I do not need her. I am not dependent on her. No way am I going to allow her to see how vulnerable I am with her.

Which means I’m left me with balls the size of all the number one hits of The Beatles put together…Fuck, had I thought that?The woman’s affliction for those losers is getting to me.

I have to fuck her out of my system… Or at least, jerk her out, to get relief.

So, I’d walked into the men’s restroom and locked the door behind me. I blow out a breath, then scan my reflection in the mirror—dilated pupils, irregular breathing, a sheen of sweat dampening my brow...Fuck.What a dumb idea it had been to think I could get through this unscathed. I’d thought I was in control… How wrong I had been. I’d thought I could keep her close, so I could steer the proceedings, slow the pace when needed.

Fuck, fucking fuck.I squeeze my cock and pain grips my groin. I massage myself once again. The blood thrums through my veins and my pulse rate ratchets up. The scent of her—sweet and sexy, warm and giving, and opening to me—clings to my nostrils, percolates into my skin, winds its way down to coil in my groin. My thighs spasm and my balls draw up. Her green eyes—beseeching, half-drugged with lust, stormy with anger. The sound of wet flesh closing around my fingers. Her mouth around my dick, sucking on me, dragging her teeth up the underside of my swollen shaft. Her slickness, her little moans, her head thrown back as she’d verged on the edge of climax.

The tension in my belly twists in on itself. I squeeze the base of my cock harder.Fuck me, but I am going to come, I am going to—

A banging on the door filters into my consciousness. I ignore it, focus on my own pleasure—how I am going to thrust forward into her sweet cunt, rip into her melting pussy and— "Saint, open up this second, you asshole."

I whip my head around, stare at the closed door, "Fuck off."

"If you don’t open it, I am going to kick this door down."

"It’s an antique door, you tosser." Not that I fucking care about the money. I could replace it, of course, but damn, if I don’t have a soft spot for history and heritage…and all that emo shit… And beautiful women who hurt from the inside out, who pretend to be strong when they are already broken.Since when had I given in to the urge to collect wounded things to my collection?

There’s another bang and the entire door frame shudders. "I swear, I’ll take it out of your share of the profits, wanker."

"You’re the wanker, beating yourself in there into your hand like a pathetic pussy."

"Bitch," I swear aloud.