Page 399 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Gio

I’m not a virgin. I've never been with a man before, but I have used vibrators to get myself off. So, there’s no reason it should have hurt as much as it did when he penetrated me.

But this is Rick. And his cock is bigger than my XXL-sized dildo.

He’s too much, too huge, too everything inside me.

I’m stretched around him, pinned down and unable to move.

It’s a pleasure-pain that focuses my entire attention on that part of my body where we’re joined and sends a line of sensations zipping up my spine.

Then there are his filthy words? They are so over-the-top. I’ve read the heroes of my smutty novels talk dirty to their women, but coming from Rick, it’s more erotic, more primal, more raw. More real. Duh, of course, it's more real. But it's more than that. It's more him.

I hold his gaze, and the intent in his eyes is laced with lust and need, but there’s something more. Something I don’t dare identify. Something so intense, it brings tears to my eyes. I try to pull away, but he curls his fingers around the nape of my neck and stops me.

"Don’t be ashamed of how you feel.” His voice is soft, and so tender and there he is, the man under that ice-cold exterior, the man I’m falling for. The first man I’ve been with because I know, he’s the one.

And no way, am I going to explain that to him because who reaches the age of twenty-nine without being with a man?

All of my experience comes from my smutty novels and my creative usage of my Steely-Dan.

This is my secret, one I’ve never shared with any of my girlfriends.

Because really, someone as confident as me, someone who loves power-dressing and is confident enough to make it in a cut-throat profession like PR…

who’d guess I'd never had sex with a man?

The thought crossed my mind when I met Dennis, but I was secretly happy when he didn't want to sleep with me until we got married.

On some level, I was relieved to find him cheating.

It meant I didn’t have to sleep with him because, the truth is, I hadn’t been attracted to him that way.

But he ticked so many boxes, assumed the problem was me.

I simply wasn't interested in sex with a man.

So, I opted to pour all of my energies into building my career instead.

Of course, I'd hoped to one day meet a man who’d sweep me off my feet.

Who’d know what I wanted when he met me.

Who’d be the kind of man who would be my partner in every part of my life.

Who’d fulfill me in bed and emotionally satisfy me.

A man who’d make me feel secure. A man like Rick. A man with whom I don’t have a future.

“Don’t be ashamed of what you feel.” He tilts his hips, a subtle movement, but one which sends the blood roaring in my veins.

“Rick,” I gasp.

“You’re so tight, Goldie. So wet.” His gaze intensifies. “If I were to die now, I’d have no regrets, because I’m inside you.”

My heart stutters. A warmth fills my chest. No one has ever said those words to me. No-one else can match his passion, his ardor how he makes me feel. There’s no-one else except him for me. “Me too,” I whisper.

His eyes flash, the blue a glowing azure which makes my breath catch. “Fuck, baby, you’re making it difficult for me to control myself.”

He grits his teeth, and a bead of sweat slides down his temple.

His biceps bulge as he balances on his arms. His cock stretches me, and it feels so good and so full and just a tad painful as he throbs against my sensitive inner walls.

Then, I flex them, and a growl rumbles up his chest. The sound is so primitive, so raw, my nerve-endings detonate.

My brain cells melt, and all thoughts empty from my head.

I lock my ankles around him, tilt my hips up, and he slips in further.

His gaze narrows, a nerve pops at his temple.

"Don’t try to top from the bottom," he growls in that familiar hard voice, and I’m instantly wet…

I mean, wetter. My slit quivers around him, and he must feel it, for he unhooks my ankles from around his waist, only to prop them over his shoulders, so I’m almost bent in half.

Then he unclasps my arms from about his neck and twists them over my head.

He curls my fingers around the border of the headboard. "Hold on."

Before I can say another word, he pulls back until he’s balanced at the edge of my slit, then thrusts forward.

He buries himself inside me in one smooth move, and I swear, I can feel him in my throat.

I open my mouth, but no words emerge. He holds my gaze, stays where he is, allowing me to feel every ridge, every groove, every pulse of his cock inside me.

I’ve never been more owned, more possessed, more everything.

He slides his hand up the back of my thigh and squeezes.

Then, holding me like that, he drills into me again with such force, the entire bed moves.

Something crashes in a corner of the room, but he doesn’t stop.

He plunges into me again, and when I cry out, he’s already there.

He kisses me again, absorbing the sound, and buries himself inside me at an angle where he brushes up against the most secret part of me.

The orgasm swells to a crescendo, and I’m swept up in it.

His gaze still holds mine as he releases my mouth long enough to whisper, "Come," and I shatter.

He fucks me through the waves of my climax, the blue in his eyes turning almost completely silver, until finally, with a low groan, he follows me over the edge.

He presses his forehead into mine as we both pant and come down from the high.

His cock pulses inside me, and it’s the single most intimate experience of my life.

I’m changed from here on. I’m no longer only my own.

I’ve given him a part of me—and I don’t mean the fact he’s my first. It’s more than that.

I’ve allowed him into a part of my life no one else has been welcome before.

I’ve allowed him a peek into the mess that is my heart and my soul and my mind, and I’m not sure if he’s even aware.

When he begins to pull away, I shake my head and cling to him.

He kisses me again, and I almost burst out crying and…

Nope, nope, nope, I'm not going to be that cliché of a woman who cries after the first time she’s had sex.

I swallow down the emotions that block my throat, focus on his lips on mine, his tongue sliding over mine, the feel of his cock between my thighs, focus on how good it feels to have his weight on mine.

When he pulls away again, I let him slide my legs down. He glances down and I follow his gaze to the blood on his cock. I flinch. “In case you’re wondering, I’m not a virgin.”

“Did I hurt you?” His features harden. “Did I, Goldie? Is that why you’re bleeding?”

I nod. “You are enormous. Thicker than I’d anticipated.”

His eyes gleam. “Was I too rough?” He bends his knees and peers into my eyes. “Not that I regret it, but, if I caused you pain—”

I place my hand on his lips. “You were perfect. You were everything I imagined and more.”

He searches my features but doesn’t seem convinced, “I caused you to bleed.” His jaw tics. “If I made you suffer in anyway, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You did make me suffer by making me wait so long before you fucked me.”

“And the anticipation built, and every part of your body was primed for release, so when you finally came, it blew your mind,” he says with that arrogance that is so very Rick. So very annoying. But also arousing. My lower belly contracts; moisture coils between my legs.

He must sense my reactions for his eyes gleam, “Admit it, it was worth the wait.”

I set my lips.

“Go on say it.”

I tip up my chin. “It was worth the wait that you were my first.”

He looks up at my face, and his eyes widen. “What do you mean, I’m your first?”

I look away. “You’re the first man I’ve been with.”

“But you’re a—?” He shakes his head. “It’s not possible.” He peers into my features. “Is it?”

“I’m not a virgin, but you are the first man I’ve been with.”

“But how—?” He clears his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Because…who reaches the age of twenty-nine without being with a man, right?” I begin to pull away, but he leans his weight on me.

“Hey, no hiding from me. You can tell me anything, Goldie.” The tenderness in his voice is my undoing. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I blink them away. The understanding in his features squeezes my chest. The empathy in every angle of his body unlocks something deep inside of me.

“My mother was an addict. I spent my teenage years defending myself from her boyfriends. Ran away at sixteen, moved to L.A, lied about my age and joined the mailroom of a PR company and worked my way up. By eighteen, I was the assistant to the PR manager of a very famous Hollywood actor.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Something like anger? But it’s gone so quickly, I’m sure I imagined it.

“And you didn’t sleep with anyone during that time?”

“Not that I didn’t want to. But I was nowhere as confident or as put-together as the woman you see today.

I had to work on that, on my appearance, on using the money I spent to finesse my appearance.

I didn’t approach men and shut down anyone who showed any interest. Anyway, I didn’t miss it.

I was too busy building my career. Besides, I had my toys—”

“Toys?” He frowns.

“Sex toys.”

“Which you won’t be needing anymore.”

“Not to mention my smutty book-boyfriends—”

“Who you’re not allowed to think of again,” he growls.

I arch an eyebrow. “Is that an order?”

“It’s a statement of intent. The only man in your life from now on is me. The only toy you’ll be needing is this one.” He reaches for my hand and places it on his still erect cock. And this, after the man just came a few minutes ago.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you, baby.”

“And a sweet talker.”

“Only when it comes to you.” His eyes gleam, then he stiffens. “What about your douche ex—"

“Didn’t want to sleep with me until we were married. We were together for a year, and I thought it was romantic he wanted to wait until our wedding night. I realized later he was getting it on the side.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “This is so mortifying. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” He cups my cheek. “I’m your first. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

This time, it’s me who shakes my head.

"It makes me want to…" He swallows, seems to get a grip on himself, then thrusts out his chest. "It makes me wish I’d never been with anyone else before you. It makes me realize the others don’t count because nothing felt as perfect as when I was inside you. It makes me”—he leans in until our eyelashes intertwine—"want to fuck you over and over again, until I’ve marked every part of you as my own.

Until I’ve branded you with my cum and rubbed it into your skin, so you never get rid of the scent, so if any man ever comes close to you again, they’ll know you’re taken. "

His words send a visceral thrill up my spine. "And you say you’re not passionate?"

He blinks, then a slow smile curves his lips. "You bring out a part of me I didn’t know existed. I’ve saved the best parts of me only for you, Goldie." He kisses me again, then rolls off the bed and walks toward the ensuite.

A-n-d I can’t take my gaze off that tight butt of his, or his powerful thighs or the way he moves like he’s still on ice, or the scars that mark his back.

I hear the water run then he comes out with a damp towel that he presses between my legs.

I wince, then sigh as the remnant of pain dissolves.

He tosses the cloth aside, then slips under the covers and pulls them up over the both of us.

Then, he turns me over and spoons me, and oh my god, this is even better than the fucking.

Okay, almost as good as the fucking. I push back so my butt nestles against his groin.

I wriggle a little more, trying to find that groove where I’m surrounded by him completely…

That is, until he growls, "What are you doing?"

"Making myself comfortable."

"Any more comfortable, and I’m going to have to take you from behind in this position."

"Oh." I freeze.

"Oh, indeed,” I hear the humor in his voice.

His thigh muscles flex and I’m aware of the hard length nestled between my butt cheeks. "Oh," I gasp again.

He blows out a breath. I feel his chest swell, then still. "Go to sleep."

I close my eyes, sure I’m not going to be able to do so, then surprise myself when I surrender to the darkness.

When I open my eyes, I know I’m alone. On the pillow beside me is my phone.

I pick it up and swipe the screen to find a message: "Gone for practice. See you after work. Dress warmly. I’m taking you out. "

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. I accept it as a voice call.

"I can’t see you, why can’t I see you? Are you naked, Gio?" Mira’s voice filters through.

"I’m—"

"You’re naked and freshly fucked, admit it."

"Okay, fine, are you happy now?"

Her screech almost takes my ear off, and I hold the phone at a distance. "I knew it. Does this mean you two are together?"