Page 139 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

I throw my head back and cry out. The sound mingles with the incessant throbbing of my vibrator, which he holds against my clit.

My entire body arcs into one long spasm from which there is, surely, no return.

Then his cock throbs in my back channel, and all of my attention hones in on that part where we’re connected, where I’m spread around his massive shaft.

His thick, fat column with which he has impaled me.

Clearly, he used the vibrator to divert me, to, once more, bring me to the edge. Then, using my almost-climax to distract me, he invaded my no-longer-virgin channel. Tendrils of pain shimmer out from where he’s embedded in me. He’s so big. I’m so full. It’s too much. Too. Much.

A tremor grips me, and my entire body trembles.

Something like panic bubbles up my chest. Oh god, he’s going to fuck me in a place where no one else has.

He’s going to skewer me, and it’s going to hurt.

I dig my fingertips into the headboard, my knees sinking further into the mattress.

My breath comes in pants and all of my muscles coil with such force my head begins to hurt. I can’t do this. I can’t.

"You can do this," he growls.

I shake my head. No. No. No. This is not what I want.

He leans in closer and the heat from his chest sears my back. "This. Exactly this. Is what you need."

With one hand he holds the vibrator against my core. The fingers of his other hand wrap about my throat. It should feel threatening, but somehow, it has the opposite effect.

"Give in to me, Abby. Open yourself up. Trust me."

Oh, god. Can I trust him? After everything I did to him, after everything he’s told me he plans to do to me, can I let myself trust him?

"Do it." His voice lowers to a hush, and the panic seems to calm down with it. I draw in a deep breath, then another, and become aware of the thud of my blood in my ears. The rapid flip-flop of the beats of my heart like that of the wings of a hummingbird. Or a sparrow.

"That’s it. Draw in another breath. Another. Put yourself in my hands, baby."

Maybe it’s that term of endearment that allows me to follow his command.

Or perhaps, I’m a fool for allowing him to take the lead.

Either way, the decision is out of my hands.

There’s no way he can ask me to do something, and I could refuse.

He’s simply too dominant, too confident, too alpha for me.

That’s always been his appeal. It’s why, when I thought he had a girlfriend in school, I was filled with such bitterness.

Enough to agree to the plans hatched by his teammates to discredit him.

Even then, I knew nothing I did would keep him down for long. That incident changed me. No longer the spoiled mafia princess, I’m now a much better person. Someone who’s more attuned to the feelings of others, empathetic toward others.

Only, he doesn’t believe it. It’s why I’m here—with his cock grounding me and his fingers about my throat making it easy for me to completely give up control. The tension drains out of my shoulders. My breathing calms.

He must sense my submission, for he switches off the vibrator.

He lets it drop to the bed, then slips two fingers inside my cunt.

I gasp. Tendrils of lust shoot out from the point of contact.

He begins to move his fingers in and out of me and the squelching noises are so lewd, they only turn me on more.

My pulse begins to drum at the base of my throat—this time, with arousal.

"Good girl."

His praise envelops me with the comfort of a warm blanket. He curves his fingers inside me, and the climax, once more, inches forward.

He begins to move then. He tilts his hips, pushes forward, and sinks further into me.

The trembling of my body intensifies. My climax begins to spin as it gathers speed.

He pulls back, then thrusts forward. His balls slap against my flesh, and he hits a part of me deep inside I didn’t even know existed.

It propels my climax up my back, spreading to my extremities.

I squeeze my eyes shut behind the scarf, riding the wave forward, when he presses his lips close to my ear, "You will not come until I give you permission. "

My climax instantly stalls—it doesn’t progress, it doesn’t retreat. The sensations simply stay poised on the brink of boiling over. What. The. Hell?

He ups the tempo of his thrusts—long, smooth lunges that push my body forward, then back, then forward, hitting that same spot inside me.

His breathing grows harsher, and the drumming of his heart at my back mirrors the tempo of the blood pounding in my ears.

His entire body jolts. "Fuck, I’m going to come. "

He releases his hold on my throat, then pulls out of me completely.

With his fingers still inside my pussy, I hear the wet slap-slap-slap of flesh against flesh and realize he has his fingers wrapped about his shaft and is jerking off.

A low groan spills from his lips, then hot streams of liquid lash against my back.

I can’t see what he’s up to, but my imagination fills in the blanks.

And it’s such an erotic, filthy awareness, knowing he’s taken pleasure from my body, that it’s my hole that made him come, that my climax stutters forward again.

That’s when he leans into me. I feel his touch on my back, then he shoves his fingers inside my mouth. "Clean me off," he orders.

I lick my tongue about his digits, and the combined taste of his cum and mine only turns me on further. I whine against his fingers, and he paints my lips with the mixture. Then, he proceeds to rub his cum into my back before sliding off the bed.

I hear his footsteps retreat, then the sound of the water running in the bathroom reaches me.

The fuck? He left me with his drying cum on my skin, and the evidence of my arousal dripping down my thighs.

Not to mention, I’m still bound and gagged and blindfolded.

And he stopped me from coming. OMG. He still hasn’t allowed me to come.

The thoughts go around my head in circles. How dare he treat me like this?

And how different is it from what you did to him?

I was young enough not to know what I was doing.

But he’s older now, more mature, more…angry, even.

I knew he was going to hate me, but the level of his loathing for me is not something I ever expected.

That, and the fact that he wants to punish me by using my body for sex…

I’m only too happy to let him do so. What does that say about me?

The water shuts off, then I hear his footsteps approach me. I hear a r-r-r-i-p sound as he zips himself up. He didn’t take off his clothes, nor did he bother to take off my sleep T-shirt before he fucked me. I really was just a hole to him.

My pussy clenches, and heat flushes my cheeks.

Why does that thought turn me on even more?

Why does thinking of myself in such degrading terms only seem to appeal to that forbidden part of me?

That subservient part of myself I’ve never wanted to acknowledge.

Not until he came back into my life. Or perhaps, I don’t want to be submissive to anyone other than him.

I sense him approach, and my entire body goes on alert. I sense him staring down at my compliant position, and my breasts seem to swell further.

"Such a beautiful slut you are, Abby. Who’d have thought the mafia princess would turn out to be the poster child for an obedient slave?"

Something cool touches me between my butt cheeks, and I sigh as he dabs the wet washcloth between my legs.

He spreads a salve over my arse-cheeks, and the burn instantly fades to a low-level throb.

A heaviness drags down my arms and legs, and I sink my cheek further into the pillow.

I hear him cap the ointment and place it on the bedside table, then I shiver, for he’s dragged his finger down my lower cleavage.

"Are you tender?"

I nod.

"Did it hurt?’

I nod again.

"Mission accomplished."

I hear the smirk in his voice. Goddamn him. Anger curls under my skin. I dig my fingers into the wood of the headboard. What a bastard he’s turned out to be. And you’re responsible for it. So, it’s only right you’re the one paying for it, too, right?

Heat cocoons me, and the next second, he’s unwound the ties around my wrists. He pulls off my blindfold and removes my gag. I blink, then sit up on my knees. I hear his steps move toward the doorway, and I pivot around on the bed.

"Where are you going?" I call after him.

He doesn’t stop.

"Cade!" I push off the bed. My knees tremble, and the space between my legs throbs, but I limp out of my room and am halfway across the living room before I find him standing by the doorway.

I slow to a halt, and he turns to face me over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I…" I swallow. "Can we do that again?"