Worth Every Cent (Worth It 2)

Command more of me.

His tempo grew until the bed banged against the wall. Until the four posters of the bed we marked with our bodies rattled and shook like an earthquake was rattling the whole of Chicago. I cried out his name. I dug my nails into his back. He rose his face and latched onto my gaze again, and I watched his eyes darken with desire. I clung to him and rode his wave. I gave myself over to the tyrant exposing himself to me. His forehead fell to mine as he pounded against my body, leaving pleasantries behind and slipping into the wetness of my body.

“Gray. Shit. Keep going. Take what you want from me. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.”

“Michelle. Holy shit. The things you do to me. I can’t—I don’t have—it’s—”

Hearing his broken phrases brought tears to my eyes, and the second my lips connected with his I fell over the edge again. My pussy fluttered around his cock and pulled him deep, forcing his hips to still against mine. I locked my legs around his calves as my arms tightened around his neck, grabbing onto him for dear life as I spiraled into a pleasure that left me deprived of my own senses. I gasped. Groaned. Whimpered as his cock pumped his cum into my body. Thread after thread, until it shot out as my pussy clamped against him.

The two of us collapsed to the bed, huffing for air and wrapping our limbs around the other.

I fell asleep in his arms like that, with his cock still sheathed within me. I slept better than I ever had in my life, and when I woke up and had a chance to look into Gray’s sleeping face. He looked relaxed. Like some pictures of the little boy I’d seen in that album. I reached my fingertips over and traced his jawline, drawing up the features of the small boy I

saw in that photo album.

“Stalker.”

My eyes rushed to his and I found a playful grin staring back at me.

“I can’t help it that you’re handsome even when you sleep,” I said.

“Well, I hope you got enough sleep, because we’re going shopping today.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Look at the clock.”

I rolled away from his grasp and looked at the bedside clock, my eyes bulging with shock.

It was already noon?

“Come on,” Gray said with a grunt. “Jump into your clothes and we’ll go find ourselves another outfit to change into.”

“Oh! Is there a Target around here?” I asked. “There’s this cute dress I saw online I figured might be a little cheaper in the store.”

“Oh, Michelle,” he said, as he slid from bed. “You’re so cute.”

“Why?” I asked.

Thirty minutes later, I realized why he’d made that comment. He ushered me into all of the incredible shops that lined Michigan Avenue, and we tried on all of the most beautiful outfits. Personal stylists put me in clothes I’d never dreamed of ever wearing, much less owning. Hats with floppy brims that matched my hair color and dresses with silk and cashmere and other beautiful fabrics wrapped up into one beautiful package. Gray tried on suits that made me salivate for more of him and came out in jeans that left nothing to the imagination. He rolled up cuffs and buttoned-down buttons while I tried on heels that made him do nothing but stare at my legs.

“Gray, you know I can’t afford any of these things,” I said.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not paying,” he said, as he fixed the cuff on his suit coat.

“I’m not letting you buy me these things. It’s too much.”

“Then I guess you’ll be walking around Chicago in your birthday suit.”

He grinned at me from the mirror, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about all of this. About being spoiled by a billionaire. Most women would’ve dreamed of something like this, but I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to do this. One outfit from one of these places was enough. Hell, one outfit from the Walmart on the other side of town would have done just fine. But the longer he stared at me, the more I understood I really didn’t have a choice.

“Look, I’ve seen you in a lot of beautiful clothes that I really enjoy on your gorgeous figure. Either you pick them out, or I will. Your choice.”

I blushed at his comment before I rose from my seat.

“Okay,” I said. “But I’m getting the cheapest items.”

His chuckle filled the small room as I walked back out onto the floor. My personal stylist followed me around, picking out more clothes for me to wear. And one by one, and shop by shop, I picked out what felt like an entire new wardrobe. One dress turned into two, and one pair of flats turned into four pairs of heels. One pair of pants became three in different colors and two shirts became four blouses that made me feel alive and beautiful for the first time in my life. Belts and accessories and purses that were out of this world. Jewelry that had real stones in them and fabrics that slid against my body and screamed of comfort.