Page 144 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

He breaches me and the pain slices through me. I yell out, try to wriggle away, but his grip on my waist tightens.

"The fuck, Sparrow, it can’t be… Is it… You mean to say you are—"

"A virgin? I was; not anymore."

His grip turns punishing. I hiss in pain, and his grasp loosens. His thickness inside me, however, seems to grow even bigger, thicker, stretching me on his girth.

A moan bubbles up, and I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s embarrassing enough he’s my first. I’m not going to humiliate myself further by giving voice to the pain that judders out from our point of contact.

"Guess I did hurt you, after all; just not in the way I thought." He says the words on a breath, and I sense the surprise and the uncertainty in his voice.

"You thought I slept with the entire cricket team in high school. Guess you were wrong," I spit out.

"Apparently, I was. And while I still find it difficult to believe, the proof is, no doubt, smeared on my cock as we speak, so I have no choice but to accept it."

I toss my hair away from my face, but don’t dare turn to face him.

"Surprised you’re my first, asshole? Don’t read too much into it.

I was simply too protected by my family.

It made it too challenging to sneak in boys and—" I gasp, for he’s pulled out of me, then lunged forward so he’s buried inside me.

"Oh, my god," I dig my fingers into the bedsheet and blow out a breath. He’s so big, so wide, so full, so everything. The pain fades and is replaced by a yawning, yearning pit that gapes low in my belly. I clench my inner muscles about his shaft, and he groans. A warmth grips my chest. My cheeks flush. Apparently, I’m not the only one affected by this encounter.

I tilt my hips, and he slips in further.

I groan; so does he. He stays where he is, allowing me to adjust to his size, then places both of his palms on the globes of my arse cheeks.

The chafe of his skin against the welts he’s left sends stars shooting through my vision.

Then his cock throbs inside me, and frissons of pleasure pulse across my nerve endings.

The pain and pleasure cross and sensations zip about my cells.

I’m at the crossroads of the old and new, of the known and the unknown, a confluence of awareness I hadn’t thought possible.

He squeezes down on my arse cheeks, and pain slices through my conscious mind.

My inner muscles tremble, and he slips in further.

"Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod." I pant and bite down on my lower lip with enough force that the metallic taste of blood fills my palate.

"It’s too much. I can’t take it," I groan.

"Yes, you can," he shoots back.

"It hurts, it hurts," I whine.

"You can take it."

I laugh, and it comes out as a strangled sound. "You have no idea how bloody massive your monster cock feels," I huff.

"If that was meant to be an insult, you’re mistaken. Also"—he leans over me and the heat from his body swirls over my back—"I hate to tell you, but I’m only halfway in."

"Wait, what?" I twist around and glance at him through the gaps between the strands of my hair. "You’re joking."

He smirks. "Does it feel like I’m joking?" He pushes forward, settling in even deeper, and the tingles from his intrusion vibrate out to my extremities.

"I can feel you all the way up to my chest," I mutter.

His smile widens. "And now?" He punches his hips forward and drills in deeper.

I groan and lower my head. "Now... Now, I can feel you in my throat."

"Excellent." He pulls out, balancing at the rim of my entrance, then lunges forward with enough force that the entire bed shakes. My body jolts, and his balls slap against my sensitive skin as he slides inside me all the way and hits a part of me that’s so deep inside, I’m sure he’s going to penetrate right through me.

A trembling starts in my toes, then inches up my calves and my thighs, gathering speed as it envelops my core. "Ohmygod, Cade. Cade. Cade."

"Hold on, baby."

He pulls out, then thrusts forward, again and again.

Each time, he hits that same spot, sending explosions of rapture up my spine.

My climax gathers speed, growing bigger, wider, stronger, until it seems to fill every part of me.

I want to tell him I want to come, want to tell him I need his permission to come, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is a strangled sob.

But he seems to understand, for he leans over me and pinches my nipple. The orgasm shoots up my spine, and pressure gathers behind my eyes. That’s when he thrusts his fingers between my thighs and squeezes my clit. "Come for me Sparrow, come right now."

The orgasm crashes over me, and I scream.

My climax grips me with the impact of a tidal wave, pulling me along as flashes of white spark across my vision.

My body spasms, and I can’t stop the shaking as my knees turn to jelly, and I begin to slump.

It’s only his hold on my breast and his throbbing cock inside me that hold me up.

He begins to move again, thrusting into me, burying himself in me.

The wet slap of skin against skin, the thrum of his balls against my skin, the nip of his fingers around my clit, the sensation of his groin hitting the abraded skin of my bottom—all of it serves to reignite that familiar trembling, this time in my lower belly.

No. It’s not possible. He’s going to kill me—and I’m going to love it.

"I can’t come again, I can’t, not so soon," I gasp.

"You can and you will. Come with me again, baby."

And it’s the fact that he calls me baby, the fact that his voice is almost soft, that he’s panting and cursing…

And I feel the tension thrumming off of him, feel his cock pressing against my inner walls, and his fingers leave my breast, only to wrap around my throat, and that coaxes me over the edge.

My orgasm is like that of a gentle English rain, unlike the monsoon it resembled previously. I sigh as my climax topples me over the edge, then feel him lean over me. He digs his teeth into the curve of my shoulder, and his cock pulses as he empties himself inside me.

My arms give way, and I slump into the bed.

Only, he catches me. He pulls me up to my knees, wraps his arms around me, and holds me as the aftershocks oscillate through both of us.

I close my eyes and allow myself to float.

Feel the world tilt, but don’t open my eyes.

I’m aware of him moving, of holding me close to his chest, his bare chest—he must have removed his shirt at some point—and I cuddle in.

If he’s being gentle, I’m not going to question it.

I’m going to take every morsel of emotion he’s willing to share with me.

If that makes me pathetic, so be it. I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore.

He’s not only taken my virginity, but also every bit of defiance I mustered in the face of his mission to take revenge over the last few weeks.

I close my eyes, and what seems like only a few seconds later, the sound of water running cuts through the layers of my sleep.

I peel my eyelids open and find he’s holding me in his arms next to a fast-filling bathtub.

"What are you doing?" I slur, and it comes out sounding like, “Wha-u-do-n?”

"Didn’t I tell you not to ask me questions?

" His words are hard…but his voice? It has that same edge of something… That almost-tenderness I thought I heard earlier. I know I’m not mistaken—the look in his eyes confirms it.

His mis-matched irises are pools of heat, and his features, for once, hold no animosity.

He holds my gaze, and when the tub is almost full, he steps inside. I squeak in surprise as he lowers himself and me into the water. Only when he has me secure between his massive thighs does he twist to switch off the tap. Silence descends, broken by the drip-drip-drip of the water.

He pulls me against his chest and whispers, "Relax.

" He tucks my head under his chin, and plants his arms about my waist. The combined heat of the water and that of his body sink into my blood.

I feel my muscles unwind, the last vestiges of tension draining out.

I close my eyes and allow sleep to pull me under.

When I awake, I’m under the covers of my bed, alone.

I turn to find him sitting in the chair next to the bed.

The starlight pouring in through the un-curtained windows highlights the angles of his face.

His jaw is set, his lips a thin line, and he’s pulled on his pants, but hasn’t bothered to wear a shirt.

The muscles of his shoulders bunch as he locks his fingers together in front and leans forward.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?"