Page 165 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

His words send a thrill up my spine. My breathing intensifies. Dampness pools between my thighs. I gasp as he rises to his feet, taking me with him.

He walks over to the bed, throws me down on it, and before I’ve stopped bouncing, he’s torn off my sleep shorts and planted his bulk between my thighs.

He covers me with his body, and oh, god, his weight on me, pushing me into the mattress, sends a primal need coursing through my veins. “Fuck me, Cade.”

“I know I said I’m not going to fuck you, but—”

“But?” I swallow.

“But fuck that.”

He holds my gaze, reaches down between us, and positions his cock at my opening.

He thrusts forward and into me, and dear, lord, this is what I’ve been missing—his length inside me, his thickness straining at my inner walls, his cock wrenching me wide as he plants himself deep inside me.

Then, he’s moving with long, slow, smooth strokes.

In-out-in, again and again. Sweat beads his forehead, and the tendons of his neck stand out in relief.

His jaw is so hard, his cheekbones stand out.

I reach up to cup his cheek, but he grabs my hand and twists it over my head, then the other.

He shackles my wrists with his fingers, then brings his other hand down to rub at my clit.

I bow off the bed, my eyes rolling back in my head. “Cade, Cade, Cade,” I chant his name as I scream up the slope.

“Eyes on me.”

I snap open my eyelids and hold his mismatched gaze.

He slams into me so deep, I’m sure I can feel him all the way up in my throat.

“Come with me, Sparrow. Right fucking now.” As if I can refuse.

The orgasm tears through me, and I cry out as wave after wave of pleasure courses through me.

And still, he holds my gaze and thrusts inside me once, twice, thrice, before he shudders and empties himself inside me.

I drift, and when I come to, I’m curled into his side. Cade is on his back, one arm around, me holding me to him, the other arm folded behind his neck.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He glances down at me. His lips quirk. “Was I too rough?”

I gape. “Can you repeat yourself?”

He laughs. “I take that as a no, then?”

“You can take that as a not rough enough.” I crawl up his chest and press my mouth to his.

I must take him by surprise, for his lips part.

I thrust my tongue inside and deepen the kiss.

He lets me control it for a few seconds, then flips me onto my back and licks into my mouth.

He kisses me like he fucks me, with his soul in every thrust of his tongue in between my lips.

My blood hums, my nerve-endings buzz, and a current of electricity runs down to my core.

I push my pelvis up and into his thick throbbing cock, which is, once more, erect between us, when he pulls back.

He looks at me with such regret that my high instantly recedes.

A trail of cold slithers up my spine. “Wh-what’s wrong? ”

“That was the singular, best orgasm of my life, but we can’t do it again.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” I splutter.

He chuckles. “Cute, but you mirroring my style of speaking is not going to distract me from the fact that… That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Seriously? You’re going to fuck me and then tell me that shouldn’t have happened?”

“I don’t regret it, but until I speak with Knight, this can’t happen again.”

I gape at him. “So, you want to speak to my brother and get his blessing before you can fuck me again?”

He winces. “Not how I’d put it.”

“Well, how else are you going to put it? Cade-motherfucking-Kingston?” I slap my hands against his chest, but the jerkhole doesn’t budge.

“I’m trying to do the right thing—"

“So, you keep saying.”

“I mean it this time.”

I make a rude sound. “What-fucking-ever.”

He frowns. “Don’t be pissed, baby.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, you piece of—" I stop because he’s narrowed his gaze, and that dangerous look is back in his mismatched eyes, and while I feel confident enough to stand up to Cade, I’m not sure I want to push him quite that far. Yet. “You’re a pussy, you know that?”

“Thought I was just inside yours, darlin’, and I wager there’s no headier taste than that of your cunt. It’s going to haunt my every waking moment and make me sport a permanent chub, which is not going to help me when I train, but I can’t let Knight down. I can’t.”

I stare between his eyes. My heart sinks. Damn, trust the meanest asshole in the world to find his conscience just after he gives me the best sex I’m going to have in my life.

“Okay,” I murmur.

It’s his turn to look taken aback. “Okay? That’s it?”

“You’ve shown me you’re serious about not shagging me. That’s fine.”

“It is?”

I nod. “There’ll be plenty others who’ll be happy to oblige.”

“The fuck?” His eyebrows slash down. “What others?”

“Oh, you know, if I walk down to the pub there’ll be more than enough takers down for a jolly romp in between the sheets.”

His jaw tics. A pulse pops at his temple. His eyes narrow to slits. The anger leaps off of him and that familiar anticipation thrums across my nerve-endings. “Of course, you could simply satisfy me, and then I wouldn’t have to do that.”

He makes a noise deep in his throat—something between a growl and a groan—and a thousand bubbles pop under my skin. His shoulders bunch. He leans in until our eyelashes tangle. “Well played, baby, but you forget, I’m a sportsman.”

“So?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.

His frown deepens. “So, I’m deeply competitive, and you’ve just poked the beast by talking about other men in our bed.”

Our bed. He said our. Probably doesn’t mean anything. But still, he said our. That’s good, right?

“What’re you going to do about it—" I squeak, for he’s grabbed hold of the neckline of my sleep shirt and tugged. It tears down the center, and he glances down at my bare breasts. He licks his lips, then smirks. “Hope you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions.”

Turns out, I wasn’t ready. Not for the non-stop fucking that ensued for the next eighteen hours.

And none of it was missionary style. It started with him flipping me on all fours, arse in the air, and taking me from behind.

Then, it was against the window, in the shower—where he used the conditioner to redefine just how good anal could be— before we fell asleep in a delicious tangle.

I woke up, found the bed empty, and walked to the kitchen to find he’d made coffee and breakfast—scrambled eggs and toast. We resumed the fucking right after, with an orgasm on the kitchen counter.

Then he took me over the sofa in the living room, followed by a post breakfast and post orgasm snooze.

Lunch ended with us retiring to the mat in front of the fire.

He lit it, claiming the sparks from my eyes were enough to keep him warm, but he wanted me to be at the right temperature.

Then, he stripped me off his shirt I’d pulled on at some point and proceeded to eat me out at the same time that I sucked him off—the classic sixty-nine position, which even I knew about—before he flipped me around on my back and eased into me.

Now, I look up into his gaze and wrap my arms and legs about him. “I love you.”

He blinks; a strange look comes into his eyes. “What did you say?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell was that?

A confession, just as things were getting on somewhat of an even keel between us?

Not that anything is settled, but the fact he blew off practice to stay with me, and never stopped wanting to be inside me, over and over again, has to count for something, right?

Or maybe not, for he pulls out of me and then slides off the bed so fast, he stumbles.

In fact, his speed of retreat is so fast, I’d laugh.

Except it’s not funny, at all. Not when I just poured my heart out to him, and he looks like he’s going to be sick.

Why did I have to go and open my big mouth, huh?

Clearly, the sex addled my brain into thinking that because he’d been making love to me for the past twenty-four hours, he was in love with me.

Which he, clearly, is not, based on how he’s looking at me now.

“I said, I love you.” Yeah, nice; repeat it so there’s no mistake.

But once I said it aloud, I’m not going to retract it.

That would just be cowardly, and it’s the truth, so too-fucking-bad.

I rise to my knees and slap my palms on my hips.

“Did that scare you off, big boy? Things get too real for you suddenly, huh?”

He rakes his gaze down my breasts, to the triangle between my thighs, and when he raises his eyelids, lust hangs heavy in his irises. “All I’m saying is that there’s no need to bring feelings into what we just did.”

“What?” I stare at him horror. “What did you just say?”

“Uh. Just that we can be civil about what happened between us, can’t we?”

“Oh, my god, are you hearing yourself?” I screech.

He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, except for your big, fat cock, which you haven’t hesitated to stuff into every one of my holes every chance you got.”

He smirks. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“That’s beside the point,” I huff.

“That is the point, baby.”

“No—" I shake my head. “No, no, no. You don’t get to sound all smirky and full of yourself, when I’m the one who’s been full of you the past almost twenty-four hours.”

He blinks slowly. “Wow, Abby, your ability to sound dirty has gone up exponentially.”

“Not as much as my anger has.” I walk on my knees to the edge of the bed, once more noting with satisfaction that his gaze is locked on how my breasts jiggle with every step.

Men! I swing my legs over, then march over to him and stab him in his chest. “Don’t you dare turn what happened between us into something it’s not. ”

“Ah, I thought you were the one doing that.”

“Jesus!” I throw my hands up. “You seriously can’t be doing the stereotypical guy thing of turning tail and running when the four-letter word is mentioned.”

“Hey, I love four-letter words. In fact, I am all for four-letter words that begin with F and—"

“Stop!” I hold up my palm in his direction. And he must see something in my eyes that he lets me get away with giving him an order. Twathorse! “You know which four-letter word I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t. I’m not buying it.”

He draws in a breath and releases it. And damn, but it swells that gorgeous, sculpted chest of his and draws attention to how lean his waist is, and all of it sets off that heavy cock of his—which, incidentally, is still standing upright against his lower belly.

Motherducking hell! I swoop out and wrap my fingers about said cock, and a groan spills from his lips. “Ah, baby, that feels so good.”

“Does it, baby?” I lower my head and take him in, all the way in, down my throat.

He gasps, then holds my hair back from my face, no doubt, wanting to see his beautiful, monster dick disappearing inside my mouth.

I sweep my tongue up the bottom of his shaft, and he moans.

I drag my teeth across the tender skin over the crown, and every muscle in his body seems to tighten. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I pull back so quickly, his fucking, stunning cock falls out with a sucking sound. “No, fuck you, baby.”

I rise to my feet, then snatch up my torn sleep shirt from the bed. I shrug into it anyway, allowing the ends to gape in the front, before stepping into my sleep shorts.

“What are you doing?” he growls.

I don’t answer. I brush past him and head for the doorway.

“Abby, the fuck you think you’re going?”

I huff, reach the door, and twist it open.

“Abby, stop.”

I do.

I fucking stop, with my foot raised over the threshold, then force myself to place it down on the other side of the entrance.

There, that feels good. I went against the alphahole’s order.

He doesn’t hold any power over me anymore—if I say that often enough, hopefully, I’ll be able to convince myself, eh?

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” I glance at him over his shoulder. “What’s there left to say?”

“Our engagement.”

“Our what?”

“Our fake engagement. We’re going to get married—not for real, of course—"

“Of course,” I snap.

His lips twitch. “There’s my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.”

“You’re right, soon you’ll be my fiancée—fake fiancée.” He hastens to correct himself. Because of course, the thought of getting married for real or having a relationship that is genuine is anathema for this jerkhole.

“And if I refuse?” I tip up my chin.

“You won’t.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll announce the engagement at a press conference tomorrow evening. If you’re not there, I won’t hesitate to tell Knight about your run in with your stalker.”

I pale. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Only you’d stoop low enough to use my brother’s concern against me.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Fuck you.” I ball my fingers into fists at my sides.

He clicks his tongue. “Running out of insults, are we?”

“There is no we.” I narrow my gaze on him, and his lips twitch.

“There will be after we’re pretend married.

The sex that follows will, of course, be all too real.

” He plants his hands on his naked hips.

Asshole’s still naked and still hard. Goddamn his virility.

Not that I sneaked a peak at the column between his thighs.

Nope, of course, not. And I’m not going to look there again, not now.

Not going to let him see how much his nakedness is affecting me.

“I’m not going to sleep with you again,” I vow.

His smile widens. “Is that a challenge, baby?”

“It’s a” —I look him up and down— “promise, baby.”