Page 385 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Rick

"What?" she says in a breathless voice.

"Don’t make me repeat myself," I say in a hard voice.

I’m sure she’s going to refuse, then she slowly slides her legs apart.

I keep my attention on the road—doesn’t mean I’m not tuned in to her.

Enough to have noticed she was turned on.

Enough to have smelled her arousal and sensed her squeeze her thighs together.

Enough to wrap my fingers more firmly around the wheel and ensure I don’t look at her.

If I do, I’ll lose control, and I can’t have that, not when my pillow princess is riding in the car with me.

"Pull up your dress," I order.

Her breathing grows rougher, then I hear the whisper of the fabric over her skin as she draws it up.

That sweet scent of her arousal intensifies, and my mouth waters.

The blood drains to my groin and my balls grow so hard, I have to spread my own legs to accommodate my erection.

Jesus H Christ, all I have to do is smell her and I’m so turned on I want to pull over, yank her to me, fit her over my erection and thrust up and into her, over and over again, until she orgasms. The air in the car thickens.

That unseen chord that has bound us since we met tightens.

"Now slide your fingers inside your panties."

"What?" she squeaks.

"You heard me, Goldie."

She draws in a breath, then I sense her following my instructions. I know when she’s brought her fingers to her core, for she moans.

"Touch your clit for me, baby."

"Rick, no, please. I’m so sensitive there. I can’t do this. I can’t."

"Yes, you can.”

I know she’s blushing something fierce, for the heat in the enclosed space dials up a few notches.

A bead of sweat slides down my temple, and my vision narrows.

My fingers tingle, and I’m this close to saying to hell with the trip, turning right back so I can take her back to the room and fuck her until she’s screaming my name.

But I promised Grams I’d bring her for a visit, and until I met her, Grams was the most important woman in my life.

So, I can’t disappoint her. "Don’t disappoint me, Goldie.

Feel how swollen that little nub of yours is.

Feel how moist your channel is as it prepares itself for my cock. "

"Rick, oh my god," she gasps, then cries out, and I know she’s fondling her clit.

"That’s it baby, like that. Circle that little bud for me."

She shudders, then arches her back as she follows my orders.

"Now slide two fingers inside yourself."

The slurp of her wet skin giving as she fucks herself with her fingers fills the air.

"Did I give you permission to get yourself off?" I growl.

"What the—" she begins to protest.

I cut her off. "If you swear, I’ll have to punish you for it, and I’ll take great pleasure in it, too."

She makes a sound halfway between a snarl and a groan.

A chuckle rumbles up my chest, but I manage to swallow it back.

She’s so fucking adorable when she gets all antsy and so filled with lust that she can barely think straight.

And I’m the one who got her there. Not that asshat of her-ex.

Her soon to be no-longer-ever-in-her-thoughts ex, if I have my way.

I’m going to show her how much pleasure I can give her.

How much in touch with her moods, her emotions, her every little need I am.

I’m going to take such good care of her, she won't want anything to do with him.

"Now, stuff a third finger inside yourself."

"Another one?" she cries.

In comparison to my cock, three of your slim fingers is less than half the size."

"One fourth, but whatever," she mumbles under her breath, but I hear her.

"What did you say?"

"That there’s a reason your ego’s as big as an arena."

I allow my lips to curl. "Did you compliment me there?"

"I suppose I did," she scoffs.

I frown. "And how many have you seen?"

"Is this the conversation you want to be having while I have my fingers inside myself?"

I shoot her a sideways glance, then look back at the road. "Just for that, cram a fourth finger inside yourself."

"What?” She gasps, “If I had long manicured fingernails—”

“You don’t. Do it, Goldie. Now."

A whimper spills from her lips. Then she throws back her head, "Oh god—"

"Oh, Rick," I correct her.

"Oh, Rick. I’m so close. So, so, close."

"You may now start fucking yourself."

The slap of wet flesh against flesh fills the air. The sweet scent of her cum is so intense, it goes straight to my head. I force myself to stay focused, then flip the indicator and take the turn off that leads to Grams’ place.

"Faster," I snap.

The intensity with which she’s fingering herself increases. She gasps, groans, and wriggles her hips as she obeys me. Her entire body shudders. Her movements get more frantic. I know she’s there. I know she’s about to come.

"Stop."

"Eh?"

"Pull your fingers out, right now."

She does so, then inhales. The tension vibrates off of her body as I guide the car to a stop.

I turn, circle her wrist with my fingers, and bring hers to my mouth.

I lick the cum off her fingertips, and the honeyed taste adds fuel to my arousal.

I hold her gaze, curl my tongue around her fingertips, and her pupils dilate further.

"Why didn’t you let me come?" she cries.

"Do you think you deserve to come, Goldie mine?"

She blinks rapidly.

"Do you?"

She slowly shakes her head.

"Good girl."

Her chest rises and falls; a whine escapes her lips. "I am so aroused, I might self-combust."

"Excellent." I reach for one of the wet wipes on the dash and rub it over her fingers. Then I bring them to my nose and sniff. I wipe them again, sniff, then nod.

"What are you doing?" She clears her throat.

"Making sure no one else can smell the evidence of your arousal."

Her already flushed features turn a bright red. "Do you have to be so uncouth?" She coughs.

"Do you have to be so coy?"

"You don’t have to spell out every little detail of our… Whatever it is we're doing." She waves at the space between us.

"You mean my bringing you to the edge without even touching you?"

She glowers at me. "You don’t have to look so pleased, and you better let me come next time, you hear me?"

In a flash, I’ve unsnapped my seatbelt, leaned toward her and wrapped my fingers round the nape of her neck. "What did you say?" I ask in a voice infused with dominance.

She draws in a sharp breath, and a flicker of excitement threads through her gaze.

"I said, you’d better let me come, you—" She gasps, but I swallow the sound as I close my mouth over hers.

Her lips, her scent, the beating of the pulse at the base of her neck, the bite of her fingertips as she digs them into my shoulders and holds on…

All of it sinks into my blood, empties my mind of all thought, and cranks up the lust in my bloodstream, until all I can feel is this overpowering need to own her, possess her, to have her in every way possible, to make her mine. Mine. Mine.

I tilt my head, deepen the kiss, and with a sigh, she melts into me.

She kisses me back with a hunger that has my lust flaring, deepening, extending to every part of my body, my cells, my very soul.

I tear my lips from hers, pull back enough that she has to withdraw her hands, and stare at her, chest heaving, breath coming in pants.

What insanity is this that I only have to touch her to feel like every part of me is being taken over with this overpowering need to claim her?

What witchcraft is this that she holds so much power over me?

Why does she affect me so? Why her? Why now?

Why, when I’ve been happy with my life so far?

When I’ve rededicated myself to the game I love. When I ...

She reaches up to touch my face, and I grab her hand. "Don’t. If you touch me again, I won’t be able to stop."

"So don’t."

"I also think you were right."

"About what?"

"We need to set some boundaries."

"I don’t understand." She blinks.

"I mean"—I release my hold on her neck and sit back—"I think we should keep up the pretense of being a couple only in front of others and not when we’re alone."

"What do you—"

There’s a rap on my window. I turn to find Grams peering in through the glass. "You two coming in any time soon?"