Married to the Secret Billionaire

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Then you’ll have to say the magic word.” He leans back a little, and at the same time, blows a cool breath of air across my pussy. It makes me gasp and shiver harder this time.

“Yes…. Please,” I add, at a glance from him. “Yes, please.”

“Yes please what?” He arches an eyebrow. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, Sinclair.”

I swallow hard. But the command in his voice was steady, strong. There’s no disobeying it. “I… I want you to lick my pussy. Please,” I add, remembering.

He leans in and drags his tongue along me. I moan aloud. I forget that we’re on a public beach, that anyone could come down that road and stumble across us. All I can think about is the warm sun, the cool ocean breeze, and Ankor. Ankor’s tongue, Ankor’s hot breath, Ankor’s sculpted shoulders, the bulge of his muscles as he kneels over me.

“Lick my pussy until I come, Ankor,” I tell him. “I… I want to come for you.”

His hand slides between my legs. His fingers stroke along my slit, gathering moisture as he catches my juices on the tip of his finger. He moves in a slow, lazy motion, never taking his gaze from mine. “I plan to. But you’ll only come when I tell you to, understand?”

My eyebrows rise. I’m not sure I can do that—control it. But he’s staring at me, waiting for an answer, and the tone of his voice brooks no room for disagreement. It’s a command. Nothing more, nothing less. I lick my lips a little nervously and bob my head. “Yes. Sir,” I add, because it seems like the thing to say at this point.

To judge by the hot, hungry flash of approval in his gaze, it was the right thing. “Good girl.” He winks at me, and at the same time, curls his finger and presses it between my lower lips, into my pussy.

I moan a little as he inches it deeper, deeper, until he’s knuckle-deep inside me. He curls his finger again and gently strokes it along my inner wall, making my breath hitch and my hips rise up off the blanket automatically, as I press my body closer to his.

His mouth lowers again, and his tongue tracks the line between my navel all the way down to the top of my mound. I shiver, breath hitching again. “God, I love watching you come undone.” He’s grinning up at me again, his eyes focused in that way he does, laser-sharp, like I’m the only person in the world for him right now. Like everything else has vanished and it’s just the two of us.

His lips slide lower again, and his tongue grazes my clit, and I raise my knees on either side of his head, gasping, my hands buried in his hair once again. He licks me until I’m crying out faintly, his finger moving at the same time inside me, and then, without warning, he draws his finger out of me and pauses again, smirking at me. “You’re so sensitive, Sinclair. It takes you almost no time to get right up to the edge, you know that?”

“Don’t… stop,” I protest, trying to arch my hips toward him. All I can think about is the pulse between my legs, the urgent need to finish.

But when he lowers his hand back to my pussy, he just circles my lips slowly, teasing. “Your climax will be stronger if we delay, though.” His fingers press just a little harder, circling the edges of my swollen clit, and I moan aloud this time, unable to help it. He grins, enjoying what he’s doing to me. How crazy he’s making me. “A little frustration is a good thing, Sinclair.”

I bite my lower lip and try to will myself to stillness, to order my body to stop reacting so sensitively to him.

He flashes me a wink and leans down to run his tongue along my slit again. I inhale sharply but manage not to moan this time. “We’re going to go slow,” he tells me, his breath hot against my skin. “And you’re not going to come until I tell you to. Understand?”

“Y-yes,” I manage in a wavery voice.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yes what?”

I press my lips together for a second before I lock eyes with him, steeling myself. “Yes, sir.” The words send a flutter through my stomach, at the power. At how much I enjoy this—him taking control, telling me what to do with my body. I’ve never let anyone do something like this before, and there’s something so freeing about it.

When he bends to press his face between my legs again, I force myself to hold still. But it doesn’t take long before that tongue of his makes me forget about it. I let my head fall back against the blanket. Behind the edge of the umbrella, I can see blue sky, and hear the crash of waves. But the only thing I can concentrate on is the way his tongue feels as he presses it between my lips and deep into my pussy, curling inside me, in and out, until I’m bucking my hips up toward his face again.