Page 227 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Solene

I freeze, then slowly straighten. This time, when I meet his gaze in the mirror, I flinch.

Those blue eyes have turned into frigid chips of ice.

His gaze is sharp enough to cut through my skin, and pierce through any barriers I might have erected around my feelings.

His jaw tics. His left eyelid twitches. He looks pissed.

Very pissed. So pissed, I’m surprised he hasn’t grabbed me and turned me over his knee and spanked me.

Goosebumps pop over my skin. And oh, god, I’d like that so much. Too much. There’s no redemption for me. I wasn't lying when I said I don’t want him to treat me like a whore. I just want to be treated like I'm his whore. His slut, who takes any punishment he bestows on me, and asks for more.

When did I turn into such a masochist? How did he loosen that part of me and allow it to rise to the surface?

How did he know how much I wanted to be possessed by someone as strong, as forceful, as dominant as him?

And how long can I keep up this pretense of not wanting everything I sense he can do to me?

Everything he’s mentioned, as well as everything I've glimpsed in his eyes, but which he's never voiced to me. How long can I hold onto that part of me I refused to give up through all the years I was controlled by my family? Isn’t this just another kind of subjugation, though? So, why do I crave it so much?

"You can turn around and leave now, but if you stay, I’ll take it that you want what I’m going to do to you."

Liquid heat thrums through my veins. I want it. I want it. I. Want. It. I tip up my chin and force myself to hold his gaze. "I’m done running."

"Then, say you want what I’m going to do you."

I swallow. "I want what you’re going to do to me."

"Good. Now bend over and grab your ankles."

I hesitate.

"Now."

I comply. Like a bow he’s strung to his specifications, I widen the space between my legs, then curve my back, thrust out my butt and circle my boot-clad ankles with my fingers.

Through the space between my legs, I watch him approach. He stops so close behind me, the heat from his body curves around me. It cocoons the two of us in a halo of anticipation, of expectation, of the degradation I know he’s going to unleash on me. And I welcome it.

He grips my hip, then yanks off my panties.

I cry out. My thighs clench. Moisture pools between my legs, and to my horror, a fat bead of cum slides out of my slit and down my inner thigh.

He instantly scoops it up. I hear the pop as he pulls his finger out from between his lips.

Heat sweeps through my skin. My blood pumps harder.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. The noise of my pulse drums in my ears.

He stays silent. Unmoving. Waiting. Waiting. For what?

My muscles tighten. My stomach twists itself into an infinity shape.

A heavy pulse settles between my legs. My clit seems to have attracted all the blood in my body.

My nerve-endings stretch. My hearing is tuned into the slightest change in his breathing.

I wait. Wait. Yet when he moves, I don’t see it coming.

All I feel is the sting between my legs when he slaps my pussy. I squeal. And instantly, orgasm.

"Fucking hell."

His hold on my hip is the only thing holding me up.

I shudder and pant as the orgasm slams into me.

Black spots prick my vision. The gushing sensation between my legs intensifies.

I sway, and he plants his heavy hand on my other hip, helping to right me.

The aftershocks pulse through me. My consciousness seems to have separated from my body, and I’m looking down on this spectacle.

As if from a distance, I hear the clink of his buckle, the r-r-rip of his zipper being lowered.

Then the crinkle of a condom. In one thrust, he impales me.

I groan as the blunt crown of his cock slams into that spot deep inside me. Through the thin membrane of the condom, his piercing digs into the sensitive walls of my pussy. Shockwaves of sensation zip up my spine. My head spins and I scream, "Declan!"

"I’m here, Rabbit. If you could see how your pussy is molded around my shaft, how your swollen clit is begging for me to abuse it, how the puckered hole between your arse cheeks is ready and waiting for me to violate it, you’d know that I’m not letting you go until you orgasm at least three more times. "

"You’re crazy," I gasp, then yell when he pinches my clit.

Sparks of sensation sear my pain centers.

Then, he stuffs his digit into my back hole with no preamble, no warning—Okay, so he did state his intention, but honestly, I didn’t think he’d go there again so soon after the last time, and—he pulls out of me until he’s balanced at the edge of my slit, then thrusts forward with such force, my entire body moves forward.

His hold on my hip is firm enough that I don’t unbalance.

He begins to fuck me. Fast. Hard. In-out-In.

Every time he slams into me, he grunts, growls and swears.

"Fuck, Rabbit. Fuck." He picks up pace, going even faster.

He begins to pluck on my clit, circling it, pulling at it, chafing it, knowing exactly how to send signals to my pleasure center that my body is not mine anymore.

It's his instrument to do with as he desires. To take me. Use me for his pleasure. To inflict the kind of agony that will only heighten the next orgasm, which sweeps out from where he’s slammed into me again.

I yell as I come. I swear I see stars this time. Sweat beads my hairline. My limbs tremble. "I can’t. I can’t. No more," I groan.

"Three more."

I blink. It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in.

"That’s what you said last time, you pezzo di merda," I yell.

In reply, he spanks my arse. Once-twice-thrice, in quick succession. I groan as the pain from the contact arrows to my center. My clit hurts. My insides shudder. That’s when he adds a second digit to my puckered hole.

I groan. My thighs spasm. And he’s still fucking me. The man’s a machine as he pummels into me again and again. He doesn’t stop. He’s not even out of breath.

"Dec-lan," I gasp.

"Come for me, Rabbit. Right fucking now."

And I do. This time, the orgasm blooms in my center, then spreads to my extremities like a gentle rain. Pleasure flickers across my brain. A soft sigh leaves me. I sway like fruit on an peach tree. Ripe and ready to be plucked.

And still, he thrusts into me. He releases his hold on my clit, only to wrap those fingers around the nape of my neck.

I shiver. And yet, I feel grounded. Tethered to this plane, to him.

Tuned into his every command. His needs.

Mine. His. So, when he puts his cheek next to mine and licks the shell of my ear, I shudder.

He pulls me closer, twists his fingers inside my backchannel, then tilts his hips and drills into me in such a fashion that his balls thwack into my clit.

Shudders of pain and pleasure alternate through my veins. I gasp, and hear him growl, "Come."

And I do. Again. The orgasm envelops every part of me.

My cells are filled to overflowing. My scalp tingles.

My legs hurt. Even my toenails are flushed with the pleasure-pain he’s jolting through me with every flick of his fingers and stab of his cock.

Then, his hold on my neck tightens. I try to breathe, but my lungs burn.

My entire body shudders. I release the hold on my ankles and claw at his wrist. Darkness streaks across the fronts of my eyes.

A part of me registers that he’s pulled out of me again and that he’s waiting, poised at the entrance of my channel.

And then he sinks into me, all the way in, deeper than he’s ever been before.

He hits a part of me I didn’t even know existed.

"Come with me." He loosens his hold around my neck. Oxygen inflates my lungs and dilates my cells as I gulp down air. I hear someone screaming, then realize it’s me, and I shatter. The last thing I remember is his groan as he empties into me.

I black out after that. I have a vague recollection of Declan pulling my sweatshirt over my dress, then carrying me out the backdoor and to the car.

Thankfully, there are no paps to witness my sex-hazed state.

Along the way, he speaks to one of the shop's assistants and orders them to deliver all of the clothes and shoes in the dressing room to his place. Guess everyone in that shop heard me scream when I climaxed earlier. I flush. To see the expressions on their faces, you wouldn’t guess, though.

Guess they're paid enough by Declan to ignore the goings-on.

I fall asleep in the car and wake only when he carries me to his room. He strips me of my clothes, fucks me again—very slowly this time—then spoons his body around mine before pulling the covers over both of us.

I wake to find him moving about the room getting dressed. He walks over, kisses me and orders me back to sleep. I want to ask him where he's going. A part of me knows he's leaving. But I can’t not obey him. Besides, I'm exhausted, and when he tucks the blankets around me, I fall asleep again.

When I awaken, I'm alone with a slim rectangular jewelry case and a note addressed to me on his pillow.