Page 333 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Penny

Oh, my god, I detonate into a ball of fire. Just when I think he couldn’t turn me on further, he has to go and talk filthy to me in that rough voice that’s sure to send me over the edge.

"Well?" He glowers down. "What’s your preference? Not that I’m giving you one right now, but theoretically, if I were to, which would you choose?"

The force of his personality presses down on my chest. I peer into those green eyes, now flashing with a mix of possessiveness and need and lust and… I swallow. "Is that a trick question?"

"I take that as an assent to whatever I have in mind?"

"What do you have in mind?"

He ghosts his lips up to my temple, and I shiver. He licks the shell of my ear, and I all but climax right then.

"Sir," I gasp out. "Please."

"You beg so beautifully, my Little Dove, it makes me want to throw you down and fuck you until you can’t think straight."

"Do it." I turn my face so I can meet his lips, but he clicks his tongue.

"Not so soon, sweet girl."

"But I wanna," I whine.

His lips twitch. "So impatient to have my cock inside you, hmm?"

"Very impatient." I reach down to grip the tent in his crotch, but he grabs my wrist and twists it behind my back.

In this position, my breasts are thrust out.

He bends and nuzzles my nipple and I moan.

My pussy spasms, I try to close my thighs but can’t because he’s standing between them.

Every part of my body seems to light up at his proximity.

I strain against his hold, trying to shove myself closer to him.

I want to push my breasts into that hard wall of his chest and feel his unyielding muscles dig into me.

He steps back a little, and I look up into his face.

"I need you, please. If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to—" I gasp.

He grabs the front of my jacket and tugs.

The buttons scatter. Before I can react, he grips my camisole.

He yanks on it, and it tears down the front.

I cry out. He shoves my bra-straps down so my breasts are lifted up.

Then, he reaches for my jeans. He unhooks the button and draws down the zipper.

He reaches around me and makes a sweeping gesture.

I turn in time to see papers go flying, while a pen and some pencils clatter to the floor.

Then, before I can get a word out, he plants his palm on the front of my chest and pushes down.

The next second, I’m flat on my back, and he’s pulling down my jeans and my panties, throwing them aside.

My head spins. Little sizzles of anticipation zip under my skin.

I hear the hiss of his zipper being lowered, and goosebumps pop on my skin.

He throws one of my legs over his shoulder, then the other. Our gazes meet.

There’s a helplessness in his eyes, something I recognize because I see it in myself, too.

This inability to keep away from him. This need that's a living, breathing thing inside of me; which seems to fill every inch of me and push against my skin from the inside, threatening to tear out of me.

This yearning to be joined with him, to be broken by him and consumed by him, to become one with him…

It seems so much bigger than me, than him, than whatever it is either of us can control.

His jaw clenches, and a nerve beats at his temple.

He seems to be simultaneously angry and turned on, as evidenced by something big and blunt that nudges my slit.

He slides his palm up to curl around my neck, and a shiver grips me.

He stays poised on the verge of entering me as he searches my features.

And this… This way in which he consumes me with his eyes is almost more erotic than the act of fucking me itself.

His cock throbs at my entrance. I swallow.

"Do it," I say in a hoarse voice. "Do it right now."

"You think you can tell me what to do, Little Dove?" His mouth curls. "You’re not in charge here."

I open my mouth to tell him off, then cry out when he pulls away and slaps my pussy. I orgasm at once.

Little flashes of heat travel up my spine. My vision fades for a second, and I see stars, and planets, and perhaps, the entire Milky Way. Little shocks travel up and down my spine, like the flashing lights of a high striker at a fair ground. When my vision clears, all I see are his eyes.

He holds me captive with his glare and sinks an inch inside me.

I groan. His chest rises and falls. His throat moves as he swallows.

Something flickers in his eyes. Then he enters me another inch, and another.

He grits his teeth, and his jaw clenches.

He’s holding back deliberately. It’s more arousing than having him enter me in one smooth move.

I try to push up and take more of his length inside, but he squeezes my throat with enough pressure to cut off the oxygen to my lungs.

I writhe, grab at his arm, then dig my fingernails into his wrist. He slides in another inch, and another.

My channel stretches and flutters around the intrusion.

I want to tell him he’s so big, that he feels so good inside me, that I’ll never feel like this with anyone else, that I want him to fuck me until I come again and again, and he must read my expression.

He pushes the hair from my face. The gesture is tender, but when he speaks, it’s anything but.

"Hold your pussy lips apart for me," he orders.

I instantly shove my hands down between us, and when I squeeze the folds around my clit, the skin is so sensitive, my eyes roll back in my head.

"Look at me as I fuck you, wife," he growls.

Oh, my god, he called me his wife! Why is that so insanely hot?

I raise my heavy eyelids, and this time, when our gazes meet, his are as raw as I feel.

His features are flushed, his lips drawn back as he thrusts forward and impales me.

He hits that spot inside of me precisely, and another orgasm begins to build out from my core.

It grows bigger and bigger until it seems to fill every part of me. Until it’s bigger than me.

I whimper and wheeze, and then he’s fucking me in earnest. In and out of me, as he does that thing with his hips where he tilts them and continues to hit me right there over and over again.

I lock my ankles about his neck, and continue to hold myself open to him, which means my clit is exposed for every thrust. The feel of his cock stretching my channel, and his gaze pinning me down as he cuts off the last of my air is too much.

The world recedes. All of my senses are focused on where he’s joined to me.

To where he’s pushing in and out of me, and when he commands, "Come," and releases his hold on my neck, I shatter.

The oxygen rushes to my lungs and my orgasm ignites.

It roars through me like a fireball, burning me up.

I combust. I’m aware of him following me over the edge with a hoarse cry.

As if he’s unable to hold himself back, he slumps over me.

We stay that way as I float in the aftermath.

His shoulders shudder. I feel his heart slam into his ribcage, the rhythm as fast as mine.

When he begins to pull back, I protest. He gathers me up in his arms, and without pulling out, sits down so I’m straddling him.

"You can release your hold on your pussy lips," he murmurs.

I comply and sigh as my limbs relax. I manage to wind my arms about his neck, then sink into that massive chest. It’s soooo good to be held like this.

I press my nose into the skin bared between the lapels of his shirt, fill my lungs with him as my eyes flutter down.

I doze off, and the sound of his phone buzzing wakes me up.

I try to sit up, but he urges me to stay still.

Wrapping one arm around me, he reaches over and snatches his phone.

"What is it?" he grunts.

I hear the voice at the other end say something, the tone apologetic.

"Cancel all of my meetings for the rest of the day." He shuts off the phone and tosses it aside, then goes back to holding me.

For a few seconds, we stay that way, then I clear my throat. "You’re not working for the rest of the day?"

"I’m working… on you."

I blush. "Oh."

"Oh, indeed." I hear the smile in his voice. He begins to run his fingers down the length of my hair. His fingers snag on a knot, he gently loosens it, then digs his fingers into my scalp, his touch tracing a path along the strands of my hair again. I can’t stop the purr that wells up my throat.

He chuckles. I still. Whoa, his entire body is as relaxed as when he was in that small room off of his closet. More relaxed than his penthouse proper, for sure.

"You don’t like your apartment very much, do you?"

He pauses. Damn, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I’m filterless, remember?

For a few seconds, I’m sure he’s going to pull me off his lap, then he continues the soothing movement of his fingers down my hair.

I sigh and curl into him again. Crisis averted.

Keep your lips zipped and enjoy his touch.

Maybe that’s pathetic, but all I know is it feels sooo right to be in his lap and in his arms like this.

"Am I that obvious?"

"To me, you are," I echo the words he said to me a few days ago. Gosh, was that only a few days ago? So much has taken place since.

He blows out a breath, and his muscles unwind further.

"You know, I was taken captive by the enemy. What I haven’t told anyone is that for most of my stay, they kept me confined to a forty-square foot cell,”—he swallows—"until they buried me in a space no bigger than a coffin for forty-eight hours.”

“Oh, my god,” I gasp.

“They kept me there without food and water. Of course, by that time, I might as well have been dead after what they did to my team. They flayed them alive in front of my eyes, then cut them up into little pieces and made me watch."

A ball of emotion obstructs my throat. A heaviness drums behind my eyes.

I don’t dare move or breathe. This complex, tortured man is revealing what he hasn't told anyone else before, and I feel honored. I feel like he’s laying a huge responsibility on my shoulders.

I feel like I can’t let him down. I feel like I owe it to him to help him through whatever he's going through.

I stay silent as he gathers his thoughts.

His touch on my hair is almost mechanical now.

"They electrocuted me. They attached electrodes to my extremities—to all of my extremities—" He swallows.

I try to look up then, but he grips the back of my head and stops me.

"They used e-stimulation to make me orgasm against my will.

Then one of my captors, who was a woman, fucked me. Over and over again."

His heartbeat picks up against my cheek. His entire body tenses again. His muscles are so hard that the planes threaten to cut through my skin.

I swallow but dare not move for fear that he'll stop speaking. I’m not sure I want to hear this, but surely, it’s helpful for him to share what happened to him. It’s the only way for him to start healing, after all.

"I hated my body then. Hated the fact that, despite what I’d been through, it could find a way to react and be turned on.

Hated that I could get an erection, despite being beaten and cut and tortured.

" He laughs bitterly. "Apparently, having my own men flayed alive was not enough to douse my libido. "

"That’s why you didn’t want to develop feelings for me? That’s why you tried to stop yourself from making love to me?"

"I fucked you. I didn’t make love to you," he growls.

Hmm. He looked into my eyes when he took me the last few times. In my books, that counts as making love. Also, I saw it in his eyes; he's developing feelings for me. Not that I’m going to tell him that, of course.

I stay silent, and after a few minutes, he lets out a breath that raises the hair on my head. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that."

I pull back and stare at him. "Did you apologize to me?"

He scowls at me, then one side of his mouth twitches. "You’re being sassy, again, Little Dove."

I flutter my eyelashes. "Does that mean you’re going to punish me, Sir?"

"That means I’m going to—"

There’s a knock on the door, then a woman’s voice—it’s the receptionist, I’m sure—calls out, "Mr. Warren, there’s someone here to see you. I’m sorry but I was unable to stop her, and—"

The door swings open, then a new voice exclaims, "There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you."

"I said I wasn’t to be disturbed for the rest of the day," he growls through gritted teeth.

"You promised you’d come today, and when you didn’t, I missed you. I… Oh—" She must notice me. "Who is she?" Her voice is suspicious.

My heart slams into my ribcage like it’s a battering ram trying to break its way out. Who is she? Why is she? Why is she talking to Sir like she knows him? Does she know him?

Knight’s muscles tense. "I think you need to leave, right now."

"But I… I’m your wife."