Page 138 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

I should let him walk away. I should tell him to get out of my bedroom, out of my apartment, and out of my life, except…

This is where I’ve fantasized about him being.

In my bed… Or rather, next to it, where he’s standing now.

I tug on my arms, and the knots around my wrists shift.

Pinpricks of sensation crawl up to my shoulders.

I shouldn’t find the fact that he tied me up so much of a turn on.

I should be upset that he laughed at the suggestion that he could develop feelings for me.

He threw my declaration of love in my face, then proceeded to face-plant, drunk, in my bed.

Then, he had the temerity to wake me up with his head between my legs—not that I’m complaining—and when he licked my pussy, in all honesty, I almost came right then.

No doubt, it’s the thought of the possible orgasm that has me on my knees, bent over, bound, blindfolded, and gagged.

That, and the fact my pride won’t let me turn him down.

I will not let him scare me. I will not let him prove that, at heart, I’m still a spoiled mafia princess.

That I can’t take whatever form of erotic punishment he has planned for me.

A trembling grips me. I hold onto the headboard and try to stop myself from shaking, but I can’t. And it’s not because I’m afraid of him… It’s…anticipation and lust, mixed with a healthy dose of expectation of what’s to come.

"Do you want me to leave, Abby?" His hard voice sends another burst of sensations firing across my nerve-endings.

"Do you?"

I shake my head and hear a low exhale from him. "Good girl."

My heart seems to swell in my chest. My belly quivers. Moisture pools between my legs, and I squeeze my thighs together.

The next moment, he thrusts his fingers into my pussy.

What the— I try to wriggle away, but he grips my hips and holds me in place. "Did that arouse you? Did you like it when I called you a good girl?"

My inner walls instantly clamp down on his digits, and he chuckles. It’s a low, malicious sound that vibrates down my spine and straight to my core. My nipples tighten until they’re pinpoints of torment. A flare of heat coils in my lower belly, and more moisture slides out of my slit.

"Jesus, you’re soaked. You’re loving this, aren’t you?"

I shake my head. I have to deny it; I have to. It’s one thing to have my body betray me; it’s another for me to admit to it.

"Lying now, are we? Fine then." He pulls his fingers out, and I miss the intrusion at once.

He already aroused me to fever-pitch when he ate me out, and the authority with which he handles my body now only serves to set every cell alight with desire.

I hear him move away, and I wriggle around.

I manage to whine and tug on my bindings enough that he stops.

"Changed your mind?" he growls.

I nod.

"So, you’ll answer me truthfully? Does it arouse you when I praise you?"

Yes, you bastard! Not that I say that aloud, of course. Instead, I jerk my chin again.

"That’s my good girl."

A thousand little fires seem to ignite under my skin. I push my cheek into the pillow, and a whine spills from my lips.

"You turned on, Abby? Do you want me to fuck you like the slut you are? Do you want me to take you from behind? Do you want me to stuff your arse with my fingers while you’re stretched around my cock? Do you want me to violate every hole in your body, good girl? Do you?"

He’s calling me Abby, not Sparrow. A sharp sensation lodges behind my ribcage.

But that doesn’t stop my breasts from swelling and my nipples from digging into the bedclothes.

I squeeze my eyes shut behind my blindfold, then lock my thighs together to stop the gnawing ache that blooms there.

Oh, god. His words are so filthy, so horribly wrong.

He’s treating me like I’m an object—his object.

His plaything, his fuck toy, his hole to do with as he wants. And I want it all. And that’s so wrong.

The mattress dips. Heat flushes the backs of my thighs.

A crack ripples around the room a second before a white slash of pain zips up my spine.

It explodes behind my eyes, and I scream, or I try to.

The sound comes out muffled, and before I can gather my wits, his palm connects with my arse, on the same arse-cheek, in the same place he walloped me earlier.

Jesus! This time, the pain blooms across my butt cheek, then vibrates up my spine. I try to wriggle away, but his big hand is wrapped about the curve of my waist and he holds me in place, seemingly effortlessly.

I sense his other arm move through the air, then his palm connects with my other butt cheek.

Then the first, the next. The first. Each time his palm connects with my arse, my entire body jolts.

In a way, it’s a blessing he’s going so fast, for I don’t have time to pull away.

Don’t have time to breathe or form any thoughts or even try to scream.

Every part of my awareness is fixed on the part where his palm connects with my body.

The next time his palm connects with my butt, the entire bed jerks.

The headboard shudders. Something crashes nearby.

And still, he doesn’t stop. He continues to whack me until I lose count. And then he stops.

In the silence that follows, I hear his breathing.

His inhale and exhale, which mirrors the in and out of my own breath.

At some point, tears squeezed out of the corners of my eyes, and I didn’t even notice.

I taste blood and realize I must have bitten down on my lower lip.

I stay frozen in place, except for the aftershocks that pulse through me.

The trembling of my body seems to have multiplied.

My knees wobble, and I’d collapsed, if not for his grip on my waist still holding me up.

I sense him move back, then he cups my butt cheek.

He massages the tender skin, and little shocks of fire sizzle up through my blood.

They arrow to my core, and to my complete embarrassment, a stream of moisture trickles down my inner leg.

Something wet slides up my thigh to scoop it up, and the heat from where he slapped me on my butt zips out to engulf my extremities.

My face feels like it’s on fire. Oh, god.

He licked up my cum. The cum is proof that, while he inflicted pain on me, I enjoyed it.

I am the slut he calls me, and I wasn’t even aware of it.

He continues to massage my arse, and it’s as if he’s rubbing the pain into my cells. He’s imprinting his palm-prints on my butt-cheeks. Oh, hell. I’m definitely going to feel it the next time I sit down.

"You’re not going to be able to sit down for a few days," he drawls, as if he’s read my mind. "And you’re going to feel me inside you for days."

I freeze. What does he mean?

"I assume you’re not a virgin. Not that it matters to me, one way or the other, but the thought of taking a hole no one else has, has a certain appeal, you understand?"

He fingers my back hole, and I freeze. He doesn’t mean… Surely, not? He scoops up my cum and smears it in the valley between my arse cheeks. I swallow. Oh, god, he does mean it.

He pries my legs apart, then plants his bulk in the space between my feet.

Heat sears my back, the denim of his jeans grazes the bruised skin of my butt, and I flinch.

He tucks my hair behind my ear, his gesture so tender that I still.

Then his breath sears my cheek. "Do you want me to stop? Nod, and I’ll back off right now. "

Do I want him to go? Do I want him to walk out on me? Do I want him to take his hands off me, his warmth away from me, stop striking me with the meanness of his words and leave me on my own in my bed with the feel of his touch on my body? I shake my head slowly.

His chest rises and falls against my back. "Good girl."

He turns my head, then runs his tongue up my cheek. The gesture is so lascivious, so calculated at making me feel like nothing but an object made for his pleasure, that the trembling in my body begins anew. His grip on my waist tightens. Then he runs his tongue around the shell of my ear.

"You don’t have to do anything but put yourself in my hands. Give yourself up to me, Abby. Let me show you what it is to pay for what you did. Let me take my pleasure from you, the way you took from me. Let me show you how it feels to be used."

Yes. Yes. Yes. I nod. I can’t see the expression on his face, but the intensity of the feelings that flow from him and wrap about me leave me in no doubt that I’ve pleased him.

He straightens, I hear the jangle of his belt, then the ripping sound of his zipper being lowered. The hair at the base of my neck rises. My pulse begins to drum at my temples, at my wrists, at my ankles. A roaring sound fills my ears and my muscles tense.

"Relax." He plays with the puckered hole between my arse-cheeks, and that only makes me clench.

"This is going to hurt, and you trying to resist is only going to make it worse."

What the—? If I weren’t gagged, my jaw would drop open. What a complete sadist! He knows saying that will only crank up my fear, and even if I hadn’t anticipated it hurting, he’s put the thought in my head. And that’s only going to intensify the pain.

Then he slides his hand around to pinch my clit.

A flash of red explodes behind my eyes. I pant, my attention solely focused on where his fingers squeeze the swollen bud.

Next thing I know, he’s slid a finger inside my back channel.

I half-chuckle, half-sob. Bastard distracted me enough to enter that forbidden part of me.

He stays, giving me a chance to adjust, then he returns his other hand to my clit.

My pussy clenches, my heart seems to drop down to my center, and a second finger joins the first. He stays there again, and every part of me is anchored in the space between where he’s pinching my clit and where he’s intruding into my back hole.

He scissors his fingers inside me and a flash of pain so intense it tips over into pleasure slices through my brain.

A tremor of sensations quivers up my legs, and I push my butt out.

His fingers slip further inside, stretching me, and I gasp.

My entire body quakes. I can’t be heading for an orgasm.

Not already. Not when he’s fucking me with his fingers.

He must sense I’m already heading toward a climax, for he growls. "Don’t you dare come, Abby."

Instantly, my climax retreats. OMG. How did he do that?

More importantly, why is my body listening to him more than me?

Is my will no longer my own? Is my mind, like my heart, no longer my own?

Oh, god! What craziness is this, that every part of me seems so attuned to him?

That I’ll do anything just for a chance to come for him?

He releases his hold on my clit and the pain bleeds out through my veins toward the pleasure centers in my brain.

A melting sensation grips me, and I feel my brain dissociate from the rest of me.

I feel like I’m out of my body, looking down as he pulls his fingers out.

Only something bigger, larger, much blunter replaces his digits.

I drop into myself again, every cell in my body once more lighting up with awareness.

A second. Another. Then a whirring sound fills the space. What the—? Did he find my vibrator?

Vibrations engulf my engorged clit, and every happy point in my body seems to light up. Guess he did find my vibrator, after all. My toes curl. My thighs tremble. Little balls of fire ricochet around in my veins. The climax that had retreated thrums in earnest. That’s when he breaches me.