Page 199 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Declan

With that, she unhooks her seatbelt and drops to her knees in front of me.

Interesting. I should be shocked. No, I am shocked by her forwardness, but only because this is Solene—the girl I thought was innocent, the girl I know was a virgin when I last saw her, the girl responsible for turning my life upside down.

I’ve had plenty of women since then. I tried to drown out the lure of those green eyes by burying my cock in as many warm holes as I could find, but nothing helped.

I need closure. I need to face that specific ghost from my past and put it to rest. Which is why I offered to take her to LA with me.

I'm helping her find herself; but more importantly, I'll finally get over my obsession with her.

Seeing her every day will be a kind of exposure therapy.

Soon, I'll be able to flush her out of my system. That was my rationale. It didn’t include her kneeling in front of me with a half-eager, half-terrified look in her eyes.

"The fuck you doing, Solene?" I growl.

Take it out. Now, squeeze it from base to crown and lick off the precum. Good girl. That’s it. Now take it all the way, until you choke on it, until I can wrap my fingers around your neck and feel my shaft ensconced by the walls of your throat.

Without taking her gaze off my crotch she gulps. "I…I…I…" She squeezes her eyelids shut. "I’m so pathetic I can’t even do this properly." She jumps to her feet, then races down the aisle. The bathroom door opens, then closes behind her.

I blow out a breath. Jesus, that was close.

If she had touched the snap of my jeans, I’d have been a goner.

I wanted to watch the reaction on her face when she was greeted by the sight of my fully erect cock.

A cock that throbs and extends and presses painfully against the fabric of my crotch, determined to get out.

I widen my stance to accommodate my erection, then throw my head back against the seat and groan.

Did I make a mistake inviting her to come with me? I’ll admit, I saw something in her. I recognized how lost she was. How she’s floundered to try to find a path for herself. I think allowing herself to be trapped in an arranged marriage was her last effort to find some meaning to her life.

But I’ve heard her sing. I’ve seen how terrified she was of her brother.

That was not the life for her. Her talent needs to be shown to the world.

And it's only a few phone calls for me to arrange to introduce her to the right people. I know, I know, I was planning to seek revenge, but instead, I did the right thing for her, decided to be the bigger man. I invited her to come with me so she could pursue her dreams. Clearly, I didn’t think this through.

I was sure I was over her. That I’d be able to resist her.

I hadn’t realized that gorgeous girl had blossomed into a sexy siren.

I rise to my feet and walk toward the bathroom.

I push it, and the door opens. There, in the fairly spacious room—because, private plane, duh—she’s standing with her back to me.

She has the fingers of one hand pressed onto the lip of the sink.

Her head is thrown back, and in the mirror, I can see her eyes are screwed up in concentration.

And here's the important bit… She has the hem of her dress pulled up and the fingers of her other hand are stuck down her panties.

I step in, and the door swings shut behind me with a whisper. Silently, I step toward her.

"Declan, oh god, Declan," she breathes heavily.

"Are you touching yourself while thinking about me?"

Her eyelids snap open. Her gaze connects with mine in the mirror.

Her fingers are still down the front of her panties.

I close the distance to her until my chest is flush with her back.

She shudders. Color heightens her already flushed features.

Her eyelids are heavy, her lips slightly parted.

She looks like a woman who just masturbated.

It was thoughts of me that spurred her on.

Satisfaction fills my chest. I grip her hip, and she shivers.

Pull up your skirt, take off your panties, then present me with your arse. Your every hole is mine to fill. Mine to take and possess and use in any way I deem fit.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist.

She flinches but doesn’t pull away.

"Have you been fingering your pussy, Solene?"

Red stains her cheeks. Delightful. She’s not as innocent as she looks, yet she’s undiscovered. Untouched by the world. And fuck, if I don’t want to keep it that way.

She tries to pull her hand away, but I tighten my grip.

She stills. Her breathing grows rough. She swallows and the pulse that flutters at the base of her throat speeds up.

The scent of her fear leaches into the air, and mixed with it, the unmistakable tang of need, of want, of lust. I bring her fingers to my mouth and suck on them.

A moan spills from her lips. Her pupils dilate until only a circle of green remains around the circumference. My dick stabs into the fabric of my crotch, and I widen my stance to accommodate it. The movement sends a shudder through her. "Declan…" she sighs.

Her soft voice reaches some part deep inside of me. A part I forgot about in my rush to get to the top of my chosen field. I release her hand and step back. "I came to make sure you were okay."

On your knees, arms behind your back. Open your mouth, press down your tongue. When I thrust my cock down your throat, you’ll take it without gagging.

"I’m okay," she whispers.

I’m not. And if I have my way with you, you won’t be, either, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me hornier and even sorrier for inviting you into my world. I smirk. "Didn’t sound like you were okay. Sounded to me like you were masturbating with my name on your lips."

She blinks. "You m-must be m-mistaken."

"Oh?"

She nods. "I-I wasn’t… m-masturbating."

"So why do your fingers smell like your cunt? Why does the taste of your cum still coat my tongue?"

She flushes. Through the dress, her nipples are pointed. Goddamn. She’s wearing a bra; I’m sure of that, but it hasn’t stopped the tight little buds from being outlined against the fabric. Take off your dress, then bend over so I can squeeze your breasts as I take you from behind.

She lowers her chin so her hair falls over her features. "You don’t have to talk so filthy."

I laugh. "When I start talking filthy, you’ll know."

"Oh?" She peeks up at me. "How’s that?"

"You won’t be able to stop yourself from climaxing."

She gapes. "You’re joking."

"Nope. But you trying to convince me you weren’t masturbating while thinking of me is."

She shuffles her feet. "Fine, I was so turned on I tried to relieve myself, so—" She holds up her fingers and waggles them at me.

"You could have told me your problem, and I’d have taken care of it."

"I don’t need your help,” she scoffs.

"Put your fingers back in your cunt."

"What?" She gapes.

"Pull up your dress, Solene," I tell her.

She scowls. "I may be a Mafia princess, but don’t think I’m a pushover."

I look her up and down, then fold my arms across my chest. "Pull. Up. Your. Dress." I lower my voice to a hush, and she shivers. "Now," I snap.

She reaches down, and inch by inch, pulls up the hem of the dress.

"Good girl."

She shudders. Her cheeks flush. She continues to raise her dress until her pale pink panties come into view. My already erect cock grows thicker. I lean in so the bulge at my crotch presses against her. She gasps and her eyelids flutter down.

"Eyes on me."

She raises her heavy eyelids, the green of her eyes reduced to a thin circle around her dilated pupils.

It’s how she looked at me that time when she was unable to stop herself from grinding on my cock.

She was too young then to realize what she was doing.

Now, she’s grown up. She’s still innocent, though.

Despite her defiance, she’s inexperienced.

And I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck her. Dammit.

I release her and curl my fingers into fists at my sides. "Now slip your fingers inside your panties.”

She swallows, then obeys me.

"You’re doing so well, Rabbit."

Her lips part. The color on her cheeks deepens. She definitely likes it. Whaddayaknow? The little princess has a praise kink.

"Now part your legs and slide two fingers inside your channel."

She increases the distance between the pale flesh of her thighs. Without taking my gaze off her, I know she obeys me, for she gasps, "I’m so—"

"Wet?"

She nods.

"And tight and soaking and saturated in your cum."

A whine slips from her lips, her knees seem to buckle, and she leans a hip against the sink for support.

"Now fuck yourself."

"Wh-what?"

"Move your fingers in and out of your sopping cunt."

The flush blooms on her neck. Then she complies. Her spine curves. Her entire body jerks. "Oh, god, oh, god." She opens and shuts her mouth; her eyelids flutter.

"Don’t look away; stay focused."

She holds my gaze in the mirror, and her features reflect the pleasure that her body’s feeling. For the first time. I’m sure of that. And fuck, if my chest doesn’t grow heavy with satisfaction.

"Now, pinch your clit."

She blinks, then purses her lips. "I… I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

She shakes her head.

"Don’t defy me, Rabbit."

She swallows, "Don’t make me d-do something I won’t like."

I frown. "How do you know you won’t like it?"

"I… I just know, okay?"

I frown "You’re not making any sense."

"Too bad." She firms her lips.

She was ready to follow my instructions. In fact, I was sure she was loving every moment of my directing her on how to pleasure herself. And my instincts are never wrong. So, what’s the problem here?

"What is it?" I tilt my head. "You can tell me what’s bothering you."

She hunches her shoulders. "I can’t."

"Try me."

She looks away, then mumbles, "I don’t know where my clit is."

"Excuse me?" I gape at her.

Her cheeks flush. She pulls her hand out of her panties. "Get out."

"No fucking way."

She lowers both hands to her sides, and her dress falls to below her knees again. "Leave already.”

"How do you not know where your clit is?"

She lowers her chin to her chest. "Oh, my god, this is so embarrassing," she whines.

"Explain this to me… Please."

She stiffens, then slowly, her shoulders droop.

"I was brought up in a strict environment. I went to an all-girls convent school. And sure, I gathered some knowledge of how things are supposed to be between a man and a woman thanks to the women gossiping in the kitchen, but I don’t know all the details. "

My jaw drops. I knew she was innocent, but to think she doesn’t know the parts of her own anatomy? Let's just say, I didn’t see that coming. "You do know how babies are made, right?"

"I was sheltered; doesn’t mean I’m stupid." She scowls at me over her shoulder. "I know what a clit is; I just don’t know where mine is located, okay?"

Her cheeks turn even more fiery. She slides out from between me and the sink and, walks over to the wall, and pushes her forehead into it, grumbling, "Somebody kill me already."

I chuckle.

"It’s not funny, you stronzo," she snaps.

"It is from where I am."

She turns around. "I knew you’d laugh at me."

"I’m not laughing at you." I spoil the effect with the chuckle that cracks out of me.

She firms her lips. "Sure looks like you are."

"I’m not, I swear." I hold up a hand. "I’m just surprised. You’re so—"

"Confident? Outspoken?" She raises a shoulder. "Trust me, it got me into a whole lot of trouble, too."

"I know," I murmur.

She must sense I’m remembering her run in with Diego for her features soften. "I never got a chance to experiment down there."

"You mean you’ve never—"

"M-masturbated before? N-no," she whispers.

This time, I don’t bother hiding the surprise on my features. "You’re kidding."

She folds her arms across her chest. "Can I go now?"