Bad Billionaire (Bad Billionaires 1)

“Very nice,” he said, leaning down and taking a hard nipple in his mouth. I lost all sense of decorum, as I always did as soon as he touched me. I moaned out a breath and wound my hands in his hair.

He finished with one nipple and worked the other. The fabric of his shirt brushed my bare skin. My dress was hiked both up and down, wrenched in the middle and probably halfway wrecked. I looked like a woman who shamelessly wanted to be fucked. I arched my back and knew that was exactly what I was.

He let my nipple go and pressed his face into my neck, the fabric of his pants touching my inner thighs. “I’ve been going out of my fucking mind,” he growled into my skin. “I want to punish you. I want to lick your hot little pussy until you beg me to come. But I won’t let you. I’ll come down your throat instead. And then I’ll eat you out again.”

I moaned and slid my hand down between us, cupping his cock. It was thick and hard through his pants. I worked at the button. “No,” I protested. “Fuck me.”

“You want that?” he said, letting me work his pants open, letting me push them down along with his boxer briefs. “You want my cock?”

He wanted to hear it. I wanted to say it. “I want your cock,” I breathed against his skin. “I want it so much. I’ll beg you for it. Devon, I’m going crazy.”

He lifted his head and kissed me, his tongue slow and demanding, and he lowered a hand between my legs. “My girl shouldn’t be going crazy,” he said, his fingers parting me, rubbing me while my hips pulsed up into him. “My girl should know that if she wants to come, she needs to come to me. All she has to do is ask.”

His fingers slid inside me, and I thrilled to it, to the words my girl. “I know,” I said.

He was moving in and out of me, his fingers working me, his thumb brushing my clit, winding me tighter and tighter. “No more running,” he said. “This is where you belong. This is who touches you, your skin, your mouth, your sexy little cunt. Only me.”

He was everything in that moment, everything I could see and smell and feel, and he was so focused on me it made me fly. I would burn down the world for you. “Yes,” I told him, squirming with how hard I wanted to come. “Only you.”

He pulled his fingers out of me, his hand away from me, and I let out a little cry of frustration. “Good,” he said. He pushed his pants further down his hips, then pushed both of my hands over my head, pinning them with one hand while he braced himself on the other. “Now I’m going to ruin your fucking dress.”

He shoved into me and I cried out. It felt so fucking good. I squirmed but his hand held my wrists over my head, so I lifted my knees to grip him instead, my feet digging into his legs. “Harder,” I said.

He pulled out and slammed into me again, the ends of his belt hitting my thighs, his cock shoving hard into me. Then he did it again. He swallowed my moans of pleasure with his perfect mouth. “That’s it,” he said. “Take it hard.”

“More,” I panted. “More.” It would never be enough. Not with Devon. He turned me wild, pulled me out of my skin. I wanted him so deep inside me I could feel nothing but him. “Make it hurt.”

He moved to get a better position and pounded into me, his hand digging into my wrists, his hips banging the insides of my thighs. I could feel the fabric of both our clothes between us, and the feeling was exciting, that we wanted to fuck so bad we could barely undress. I felt myself twisting beneath him, heard myself saying some kind of nonsense. He let go of my wrists and lowered his hand between us instead, his fingers digging into my inner thigh, splaying me open as he fucked me. I arched up off the bed. I was so close.

He sucked in a breath and ran his thumb over my clit and I exploded, the pleasure pulsing through me so hard I could only make a strangled sound as I pushed up over and over, taking him deeper. That’s it, that’s fucking good, I heard him say against my skin, and then I felt him come, the way it pulsed over his big body the way it had mine, the way it made his arms flex and his breath catch and his cock press deep, pulsing inside me. Every inch of him, every part of him, was mine in that moment. I had never felt so sexy and so deeply possessive in my life.

We were out of breath. He slid off me a little so he wasn’t crushing me, but his body still curled around mine, pressing it gently. He was still wearing his shirt, halfway buttoned. My dress was still scrunched around my waist. Neither of us made a move to do anything about it.

“Stay,” he said after a minute, tracing his fingertips over my bare collarbones. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

I did. He wanted me here permanently. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. I rolled over and pressed my face into his shoulder, inhaling his smell through his shirt. “I promise,” I said. “I love you.”

He went very, very still. It took him a long time to answer. “No one has ever told me that before,” he said finally, his voice strangely quiet.

“Well, someone is telling you now.” I rolled back and looked up at his face, which was criss-crossed with conflicting emotions. Uncertainty. A sort of banked male fear. It wasn’t easy for a man as walled off as Devon to change all at once.

I decided to deliberately lighten the mood. “Anytime,” I prompted him. “I’m waiting over here.”

“Fuck.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. This is new territory.”

“Mm hmm.” I traced my finger along his lower lip. “You can shut down drug dealers, but you can’t say it?”

“Pretty much.” He leaned down and kissed me, then pulled back. “Don’t forget I can also fuck you into oblivion.”

“Believe me, I have not forgotten that.”

He kissed me again, softly, and touched his forehead to mine. “You are the only one for me,” he said. “You always have been. I love you.”

I had been joking a minute ago, but all of that fled. Those words from his mouth floored me. This suddenly seemed very, very big. Life-changing big.