Page 267 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Declan

"This, baby. This is what I’m gonna do."

I slide down my sweatpants, then grip her hips, and position her exactly over my swollen cock. I thrust up and into her, hitting the exact center of her core, brushing over her throbbing clit, and sliding into the hole of her slit, which hasn’t stopped dripping since she crawled over to me.

Her eyes roll back in her head. She grips my wrists, throws her head back, exposing the sweet column of her throat, the sensuous turn of her shoulder, and the thrust of her breasts with the engorged nipples that stab through the fabric of her camisole.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I intend to follow the doctor’s rule to the letter.

No physical exertion for my baby. Doesn’t mean I can’t find a way to make her come, with me doing all the work.

A slight discomfort crowds my side—the site where they took my kidney.

Where I’m proud to display the mark of life. The life that I could offer her.

How many lovers can say they shared their life with their soulmate, literally?

The fact that I could do this for her is my privilege.

And my honor. It’s the one good thing I’ve done in my life.

The media thinks it’s selfless—I say it’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.

I did it for myself. So I could have her with me, at my side, in my life.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I would have died for her.

But this is so much better. To live with her and watch her flourish again, thanks to a part of me that will be part of her—which will connect me with her forever. I am the luckiest man alive.

"Declan, I am so close."

She lowers her chin and looks at me from between her hooded eyelashes.

Her skin is flushed, her lips parted. The dark circles under her eyes are almost gone.

We’re still under observation, and she’ll be on medication for the rest of her life, but we’ll grow old together.

And she’ll be able to perform again, once we get the all-clear.

It’s a second chance, the kind that makes me feel humble and appreciative in a way that I’ve never felt before.

My heart swells in my chest. The emotions that have always felt at arm’s length away seem so much closer now.

I increase the pace of my thrusts. My cock feels like it’s about to stab right through the crotch of my sweatpants.

My balls grow heavy. The blood drains to my groin, and I grunt.

She leans over me, her glorious hair a curtain about us. "I love you," she gasps.

"The time in my life when I didn’t love you was when I was the most bereft."

Her eyes soften. Her chest rises and falls.

The next time I piston my hips up and into her, I hit that sweet spot inside her exactly, and she gasps.

A trembling grips her, and I know she’s about to— "Come for me, baby," I order, and she does.

I continue to rub my erection against her slit as she moans and cries out, and with a final whimper, slumps forward.

I lower her to my chest and wrap my arms about her waist. "Sleep, Rabbit. We’re together now. "

Two months later

"You sure you’re up for this?" I hold out my hand to my fiancée.

She glances up from the smutty book she has open in her lap. "Thought you were always up for this?"

"I see you’re getting bratty, Ms. Sabatini. Time you were taught a lesson, hmm?"

Her grin widens, and color flushes her cheek. "What did you have in mind, Mr. Beauchamp?" She flutters her eyelashes.

"Jesus, baby, when you use that tone of a voice, I’m tempted to drop everything, throw you over my shoulder, and march you right back home to our bed."

"That would make the crowd of reporters out there very happy." She stabs a thumb in the direction of the doorway. We’re back in the bookshop I purchased for her. The one I refused to part with, even when selling it could have meant bridging the gap in the capital needed toward financing my film. I would never consider parting with it; would have done everything in my power to keep it. Other than our bed, it’s the one place where she’s most happy.

After the doctors pronounced her well on the mend, I set up a reading corner for her in a back room of the bookshop.

It’s next to the main shop floor with the books, with French doors that lead out into a private garden.

I changed the parking lot behind the bookshop into an oasis of greenery.

Away from prying eyes, I furnished a comfortable loveseat, arranged with blankets and cushions, then added a fireplace opposite so she’ll always be warm.

Then I slipped in a coffee and tea bar and arranged for her favorite biscotti to be stocked.

Now, she reaches for one and bites into it.

"These are delish. I forgot to thank you for arranging to have them in the shop. "

"Everything you love under one roof," I note with satisfaction as she crunches down on the confection and swallows it.

"Including you." She goes to brush off the crumbs, but I circle my fingers around her wrist. I squat down in front of her, bring her fingers to my mouth and lick off the traces of the cookie.

"Yum." I lick my lips.

Her gaze grows heavy. "You’re doing that on purpose." Her voice is breathless.

"Doing what on purpose?" I tease.

"Drawing my attention to your gorgeous lips, knowing I’ll never be able to resist the call of your sexy body."

I reach for a napkin, pat her fingertips dry, then flick the waste into the trash can.

"You didn’t answer me, baby," I murmur.

"What was the question?" Her tone is distracted, her gaze still fixed on my lips.

"Keep looking at me that way and we’re never leaving this room."

"Nothing wrong with that." Her mouth curves.

I take the book from her lap and slide it to the side.

When she parts her legs, I lower my head and press my nose into the space between her thighs.

I inhale deeply, and the sugary-sweet scent of her pussy goes straight to my head and to my cock, which instantly swells.

"Fuck, Rabbit, I need to bottle the scent of your cunt and carry it around with me. "

"And then how will you relieve your are-you-happy-to-see-me-shaped baseball bat in your crotch?" She reaches between my legs and squeezes my shaft, and I almost come in my pants.

"Woman, you’re a menace," I grumble.

"You taught me well, Tiger."

I blink. "Tiger, huh?"

"You call me Rabbit; figured it was time I came up with a name for you," she says in an innocent voice.

"Hmm." I sit back on my haunches—my head, my heart, my soul still full of her scent, her taste, her very essence. These weeks we’ve spent locked in my house have been the best of my life. And if I could, I’d simply stop the production of the movie and devote the rest of my days to keeping her high on post-coital endorphins.

But I need to keep her in the style she deserves.

More importantly, I need to ensure she gets her chance at reviving her career.

I cannot—will not deprive her of this. "I’m rather partial to you calling me Lord or Master. "

She rolls her eyes. "Of course you are."

"Yep, definitely time."

"For what?"

"For now, it’s going out and facing the press."

"Which should be a breeze, since I’m with you." She raises a shoulder.

"So much confidence in me, hmm?"

"Always, Tiger. Always."

"I’m keeping count of the number of ways you sass me, and I’m going to return it to you with interest," I say in a low voice.

A shiver runs up her spine. She leans in until her nose brushes mine. "I’m counting on it."

"You two ready?" Giorgina’s voice says from the doorway.

Neither of us looks away.

"The crowd is getting restless," Harry’s voice pipes up from somewhere in the same direction.

I rise to my feet, and this time, when I hold out my hand, she takes it.

I pull her to her feet. Once more, I scan her features—the lack of black circles under her eyes, the healthy color of her cheeks, her pink blouse and skinny jeans teamed with Doc Martins.

On her right wrist she wears the bracelet with the charms I’ve given her.

On her left hand is the engagement ring.

All pieces of jewelry that I gave her. And inside her is a part of me. I touch her side. "How does it feel?"

"It doesn’t hurt at all." She smiles. Then, in a move that mirrors mine, she presses her palm against my side. "How does it feel?"

"Don’t feel a thing anymore." So, maybe I’m lying a little.

Maybe the lingering pain in my side is one that may never go away.

It’s similar to the pain of a phantom limb, the doctor told me.

It might fade with time, or grow worse, or neither.

So, I might need to take painkillers until I find a better way to manage it.

But it’s worth every bit of inconvenience, every twinge that grips me when I move, every bead of sweat that slides down my spine as I entwine my fingers through hers and turn to face our managers lurking anxiously by the doorway.

"You sure you’re okay?" She tugs on my sleeve.

I glance down at her. "As long as you’re by my side."

Her eyes light up. "I’m a sucker for romance, and you know it."

"I’m just getting started, too, baby."

We grin at each other, and I know the look on her face echoes the complete adoration on mine.

And I probably look like a sappy, pussy-whipped stronzo, but fuck that.

My Rabbit is fine and back on her feet, and the happiness and satisfaction I get from knowing I played a role in that is the most satisfying feeling in the world.

Giorgina clears her throat. "Shall we?"