Page 125 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Cade

I haul her across my lap. Her dress rides up to reveal the globes of her butt-cheeks.

I intended to buy a dress that would show off her best assets, her legs, her tiny waist, her gorgeous breasts, the color of her eyes, the curve of her shoulders, the length of her neck…

All of her is one walking-talking siren call, one I could barely resist when I was fifteen, and it’s even harder now—pun intended—at twenty-nine. I squeeze her arse, and she shivers.

"What are you doing, Cade?"

I don’t answer. I simply push up her dress so it’s bunched around her waist. The tiny thong she’s wearing rides high between her arse cheeks. The creamy curves of her butt stare up at me.

"F-u-c-k." The blood drains to my groin. My cock strains against the crotch of my pants, begging to be set free.

"Cade, stop." Her voice trembles, and that only turns me on further.

I place my arm across the top of her back, holding her in place. It spurs her on to struggle, and I lean more of my weight on her. "Hush now. Take this like a good little girl, and it will be over before you know it."

"Take…what?" She swallows.

The scent of fear spools off her skin, combined with the sweet, sugary notes of her arousal.

"You like being at my mercy, don’t you?"

"N-no." A trembling grips her.

"Still a little liar, aren’t you?" I shove two fingers inside her sopping wet channel, and she gasps.

"Cade, stop. Don’t, please, oh—" she moans. I’ve added another finger inside her and begun to work them in and out. In and out. Every time I sink my fingers into her, her entire body jolts. Her breathing intensifies, she tries to squeeze her thighs together, and I click my tongue.

"Keep your legs wide," I order.

She obeys.

A fierce satisfaction grips my chest.

"What a willing little slut you are. A whore who can’t wait to open her legs for me."

A moan bleeds from her lips. She digs her fingernails into the leather of the seat and pushes her butt up and out, so my fingers sink deeper inside her. Moisture drips out from between her legs and down my fingers.

A growl springs up my chest. "Fucking hell, you’re dripping all over my hand. You’re going to make a mess, aren’t you, Sparrow? So, when we walk out here, everyone is going to smell your cum on me. Everyone is going to know you’ve spread yourself open for me, isn’t that right?"

She groans.

I speed up the intensity of my ministrations, and a quivering sweeps up her calves, her thighs, gripping her core so she clamps down on my fingers.

She’s close, so close. I curve my fingers inside her, and a low, keening cry emerges from her lips.

I pull my hand back, then slide my fingers to her mouth.

"Open."

She blinks, then parts her lips.

"Clean me off."

She coils her tongue around my fingertips.

"Guess there’s hope for you." I lean back in my seat, pull out my phone and begin to check my messages.

For a few seconds, she stays sprawled across my lap. Then she turns to peer up at me. "Wh-what are you doing?" she whimpers.

"Checking my emails."

"B-but… I didn’t come."

I yawn. "Not my problem.”

"But… Cade… I… You—"

My phone buzzes, and I hold up my hand in her direction before answering it. "Hello?"

"King!" my agent’s exuberant voice comes across the line. Rod Millet’s a slimy motherfucker.

Which is why I keep him on. He gets me the best sponsorship deals and consistently overdelivers on my revenue goals for the year.

So maybe he’s not the most ethical person in the business, but then, which agent is, hmm?

"You have news for me?" I snap.

She tries to slide off my lap, and I glare at her. She pales. I place the phone on speaker, drop it on the seat next to me, then slide my hand between her thighs again.

She stiffens, then hisses, "What are you—"

"Hush, stay quiet now. I need to take this call."

"But—"

I stuff three fingers inside her pussy, and her mouth falls open.

"Cade, you there?" Rod’s voice fills the space.

"Don’t waste my time, Mullet."

"It’s Millet."

"Do you have something for me or not?" I snap.

"I do. I have three sponsors vying for your next set of dates." He speaks so quickly; the words tumble over each other. "A sports brand that’ll increase your profile, but won’t pay as much—"

"I don’t roll out of bed for less than a half a million per second." I begin to move my fingers in and out of her, in and out.

"Guess they’re out then." Rod continues, "Then there’s a—"

"Spit it out, my time is money, in case you’ve forgotten."

Her eyes roll back in her head. A groan bleeds from her lips. I slap my hand over her mouth, then circle her clit with my thumb.

"No, of course not. It’s just—"

"Say it already."

She shudders, bites down on my palm, and my cock almost stabs through my pants. Fucking hell, she’s so responsive, so tight, so hot. I pinch her clit, and her entire body jolts. A whine bleeds from her lips.

Rod chuckles. “Are you with someone?”

“No one of consequence.”

Her gaze narrows. The look in her eyes is filled with lust and loathing, and beneath it all, there’s need. The same need that’s tearing through my guts and making me want to throw her on the floor of the vehicle and rut into her. The kind of need I’ve vowed never to give into. Not for anyone else.

I increase the intensity of my motions, and she shudders.

She tries to shrink away, but I haul her back into position.

Then, for good measure, I grind the heel of my palm into her pussy.

The hate I spied earlier in her eyes fades completely, pure need, lust, and desire crowding those gorgeous green eyes.

“You lost your voice, Mullet?” I growl.

“No, it’s just, I thought—”

“Don’t pay you to think. Spit it out, will ya, or I’m…"

"There’s a non-profit organization which won’t be able to pay at all, and I wouldn’t have brought it to your attention at all, except it’ll increase your share of goodwill in the market, and you could do with that, truth be told," Rod drones on.

"Are you saying my reputation is affecting my revenue streams?" I scowl.

"No, not at all. Your bad boy image, combined with your raw talent and good looks, gives you just enough edge to make you interesting for—"

"Stop blowing smoke up my arse, which is the third?"

"A liquor brand that’ll pay so much, you’ll blow past your revenue projection of the year in one month, and—"

"Done. Seal the deal, sign it."

"Hold on, it means you’ll have to shoot out of town for a week."

"As long as it’s on an island and there’s enough pussy—"

Her gaze widens. She tries to pull away again, but I curl my fingers inside her, and her inner walls clamp down on my fingers.

Good girl, I allow my lips to form the words and her pupils dilate.

I almost come in my pants like a fucking teenager.

Bloody hell, this woman is dangerous. I need to find a way to get what I need from her—mainly, my revenge—and move on before things get complicated.

"It’s a mountain top shoot, actually," Rod interjects.

"Change the location; I fancy a trip to the Caribbean."

"But—"

"How much do I pay you, Mullet?" I growl.

There’s silence then, "More than any athlete I’ve ever represented before."

"Exactly, get it done." I hang up, then pull my fingers from her pussy, and this time, bring them to my mouth and suck off her cum.

Her sweetness sinks into my blood, and my heart stutters.

It fucking stutters. I remove my hand from between her legs and she glowers at me.

"You have no compunctions, do you?" she asks bitterly.

"None at all." I smirk.

"Five minutes to our destination, Mr. Kingston." The chauffeur’s voice sounds over the speakers.

"I fucking hate you." She scrambles off my lap so quickly, she lands on the floor in front of the seat.

"Better sit up and fix yourself before we arrive," I drawl.

She glowers at me, but pushes herself up onto the seat, then reaches for her phone.

She checks her appearance, pats her hair, and touches up her lipstick.

By the time we arrive at the venue, all traces of the woman who almost orgasmed around my fingers is replaced by the innocent facade of hers which she once used to fool me.

"Still a consummate actress, I see."

"Still a vicious twathole, I see," she snarls back.

"At least your insults have improved."

"Yours haven’t."

We pull to a halt in front of the venue. I push the door open, step out, then hold out my hand for her.

She scowls at it, then up at me.

I glare at her, she pales, then places her hand in mine. I help her out as the flashlights from the assembled media go off in our faces.

"Cade, who’s your date?"

"Cade, are you excited about the upcoming cricket tournament?"

"Cade, is it true, you’re retiring from cricket?"

I pause, then turn and train my gaze on the journalist who asked the question.

I haul Abby close, bend her over my arm and kiss her.

She stiffens, but when I bite down on her lower lip, she opens her mouth.

I sweep my tongue over hers, drink from her, and the taste of her—that sweet, potent, complex taste of her goes straight to my head.

My cock thickens, my thighs spasm, and a melting sensation squeezes my chest. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. What the hell is happening to me?

I tear my mouth from hers as more flashes go off.

Her eyes are enormous, the pupils so dilated there’s only a circle of green left around the circumference. Her features are pale, her expression as stunned as mine. "Such a good little slut," I whisper, and her lips tighten.

I straighten her, wrap my arm about her waist and pull her close. "Smile, baby. Get those socialite skills of yours working now." I kiss her cheek, then turn to the journalist who asked the question.

"Do I look like I’m retiring anytime soon?"

He laughs. "You look in good shape, mate." He raises his camera and proceeds to click a few more pictures.