Page 17 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Liam

The boom-boom-boom of the beats reverberates through my body.

It seems to echo the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t dance.

I also don’t like nightclubs or crowded dance floors.

Two girls giggle next to me at the bar. One of them brushes my arm, and I scowl at her.

She blinks, then looks away. Good. The last thing I want is to engage in extraneous chatter with anyone else.

A bead of sweat slides down my back. The blood thumps at my temples.

Why is it so hot in here? I undo the buttons on my shirt, but that doesn’t seem to help.

"Who sent you?" The man asks.

"N-no one. I came here on m-my own," I stutter.

"Liar." He laughs then flips a switch. Instantly the beats from the trash metal track pump through the earphones I’m wearing.

The sound sears through my brain. It feels like someone stuck a hot dagger through my head.

I squeeze my fingers into fists. I will not give up. I will get through this. I must.

I squeeze my fingers around my glass of whiskey and peer through the crush of bodies on the dance floor.

There in the center, with the laser lights crisscrossing her body, is my LadyBird.

The red highlights of her hair glint as she moves.

Her dress twirls about her knees. She thrusts out her leg and a strip of her thigh flashes.

What the bloody hell? I should have gone onto the floor when she’d asked me, but the thought of being stuck in the middle of that heaving mass had made my insides crawling.

I contented myself with sticking to the bar, where I could source liquid sustenance and ensure I don’t let her out of my sight.

She turns her head and her gaze clashes with mine.

She widens the space between her legs, bends her knees, and begins to grind her hips as she lowers down.

Heat coils under my skin. My cock hardens.

My mind insists I need to get out into fresh air, but my body and my heart insist I not take my gaze off of her.

Still swaying, she runs her hands up her torso, over her breasts and splays her fingers across her clavicles.

The blood drains to my groin. My heart has turned into the goddamn rotors of a chopper.

If I continue this way, I’m going to have a coronary, no doubt about it.

The vixen must sense how close to the breaking point I am, for she slides her forefinger into her mouth and sucks on it.

My balls tighten. Holy fuck, I think I just came in my pants without having touched her.

Without breaking the connection, I throw back the rest of my whiskey and slam the glass back on the counter.

That’s when the man dancing behind her clamps his palms on her hips.

Anger flushes my blood. Before I realize it, I’m moving.

I plow through the dance floor, elbowing people aside, and then I’m at her.

I grab the shoulder of the man who still has his paws on her.

I yank him off of her and throw him aside.

He hits the man next to him and they go down in a tangle of arms and legs.

I bend down, grab the man by his collar, and haul him to his feet, then grip his wrist. I twist his arm and the man yells…

At least, he opens his mouth. The sound is lost in the decibels that blast through the air.

Someone pounds on my shoulder. I turn to find Isla yelling at me.

"Let him go, Liam. You’re going to break his arm.

" I jerk my head back to find the man no longer screaming. He’s panting; his chest rises and falls, his shoulders bent forward.

I release him, and he slumps to the floor.

I turn, lock my fingers around her wrist, and stalk out.

The crowd parts in front of us, and in minutes, I’m at the front door.

I step outside and take big gasps of the cool night air.

"What was that?" Isla pants. "Why did you do that? We were only dancing, we—"

I glare at her. Some of the color leaches from her cheeks. She looks between my eyes, and I’m sure she’s going to tug her hand away. Instead, she steps closer.

"Liam, I’m okay. It was innocent."

My heart still slams into my ribcage, my pulse rate sky-high. My breath comes in pants like I’ve run a marathon.

"He touched you," I say through gritted teeth. "He had his hands all over you."

"That’s what happens when you go to a nightclub. You dance, Liam."

"And I don’t."

She sighs. "I don’t want to condone the violence, but Liam, that was—" She swallows.

"I shouldn’t find it hot. But... Oh, god, I do.

" She cups my cheek. "Who are you, Liam Kincaid? The thoughtful dinner companion who turns vegetarian for the meal because he wants me to be comfortable. The billionaire with so much money he can buy and sell corporations around the world. The man who wants to marry to secure his inheritance. The son who doesn’t want to upset his mother. The possessive alphahole who can’t stand to see another man touch me.

The dominating, controlling, morally gray man who only has to look at me to turn me on. The—"

I drop my head, close my mouth over hers, thrust my tongue between her lips, and kiss her. It’s a deep, long, demanding kiss. I suck on her tongue, draw from her, and she gives me what I need. She opens herself up and allows me to drink from her.

I scoop her up in my arms and stalk toward where my motorboat is moored. I step on, lower her to the floor next to me and start the engine. Keeping an arm around her, I steer us away from the jetty and toward my island. That’s when she sinks to her knees and lowers my zipper.

"Isla, what—" I gasp. She’s pulled out my cock and clamped her mouth around it. She grips my thighs, tilts her head, and swallows around my girth. Desire shoots up my spine. Lust slams into my chest like a ten-ton truck has crashed into me.

"Isla, what the fuck?"

In answer, she slides open my belt buckle, unbuttons my pants and massages my balls. Then she takes me down her throat. A groan rips from me and is torn away by the wind.

She gags around my girth, then swallows. Sensations zip out from the point of contact. My groin is so hard, it feels like that ten-ton truck is now strapped to my waist. I grip the wheel of the motorboat and give it full throttle. The vessel leaps forward, bouncing off the waves.

Each time we hit the water Isla seems to swallow me deeper.

The hot wet column of her throat closes around my length.

My groin hardens. My thigh muscles ripple.

I groan, then widen my stance, giving her even more access.

She releases my balls, only to slide her hands around to cup my butt.

She squeezes and brings me closer still.

She hums around my cock, and the vibrations bolt up my belly.

My eyes cross. I’m sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

I lower the speed of the boat and shut it off. In the silence that descends the wet plop of my dick as she allows it to slide to the rim of her mouth is like a thunderbolt. I release my hold on the wheel and clamp my fingers around her neck. "I’m going to fuck your mouth now."

She draws in a deep breath, but before she can speak, I’ve come through on my earlier promise.

I wrap my fingers about the nape of her neck and gently pull her back, then forward.

I slide down her throat in one smooth thrust. Tears flow from her eyes, and mascara streaks her cheeks.

Saliva drools from the corners of her mouth, and I’ve never seen a more enticing picture.

She grips my butt, and I begin to fuck her mouth in earnest. Each time I pull out, she gasps.

I feed my cock to her, and she stares up at me.

Those blue eyes of her are almost purple in this light.

"Touch yourself," I snap.

She instantly slides her hand under her dress. A groan boils up her mouth as she weaves her fingers in and out of her center. A quiver courses up her spine and the trembling that grips me seems to be a continuation of the same convulsion.

I speed up my movements, thrusting my cock in and out of her mouth.

Her actions increase in intensity, mirroring the thud-thud-thud of my heart.

The blood pounds in my ears, and my pulse rate jackknifes.

Her back arches and her fingers dig into my hip.

I pull out, then lunge forward and down her throat.

My balls draw up. "Fuck, I’m coming, baby. "

Her entire body jolts, and I shoot my load down her throat.

My orgasm seems to go on and on, and she swallows it all down.

A drop trickles down the side of her mouth.

I scoop it up, pull out of her, drag her to her feet, and kiss her fiercely.

Our teeth clash and our tongues meld. I taste myself and the sweeter, more delicate flavor of her, combined to form the kind of aphrodisiac that has my dick swelling again.

I tear my mouth off of hers, chest heaving, sweat dripping down my temple.

She grips the front of my shirt and I lower my forehead to hers. We stay that way for a few seconds and she swallows. "That was—" she coughs. "That was—" She seems to be at a loss for words.

"Yeah." I kiss her nose, then her mouth. "I need to be inside you again."