Page 66 of Billionaire Devil

“Fuck me, Maddox. Fuck me hard with your big fucking cock.”

I can hear his low chuckle turn to a growl as he drives all the way to the hilt. I cry out. The pain is too intense. But the pleasure is already there, being coaxed higher and higher by his deep, hard aggression. It erupts through my body in an explosive rush. The cascading spasms are too much. I’m moaning with ecstasy, my body tugging at the length of him until I can feel the violent beat of his release and the warmth of him pulsing deeply into me.

He presses his savage groan into my neck. “Mine.”

19

Wednesday

Aspen, Colorado

The princess isin a mood and so am I.

I’min a mood because even though I’ve spent most of the past 24 hours fucking her—more than I should have, considering she was a virgin yesterday morning—I can’t get enough.

I spent the night worshipping her. Coming hard because she’s so damn responsive and her tight little squirming body pulls pleasure out of me like nothing I’ve ever known. I kissed her like a lovestruck lunatic until I was fully revived, then did it all over again. I lost count of how many times I spent myself inside her.

Of course I would never in a million fucking years haveconsidered doing that in any normal situation. Lila Sunshine Danger Bailey—and holy fuck, is she dangerous—is a Code Red emergency.

I would never have trusted another woman if she’d told me all sweetly,I’m on the pill.

I’m a hot, well-hung billionaire. I’ve heard that one before.

But no, of course I didn’t take any other precautions, because I’m so fucking manic to get inside this girl and pump her full of my overflowing cum, it’s almost like I’mtryingto knock her up.

Then she’d have to stay with me.

What the fuck am I even thinking right now?

If she’s knocked upandgets a job offer in New York, which I’ll make sure she does, she won’t move back to L.A. She’ll move in with me.

Jesus Christ.

I force myself to get a grip.

I can handle this.

Ihaveto handle it.

I refuse to lose my mind over one sassy little nymph, no matter how gorgeous she might be.

I finish making her a latte on the European coffee machine. I put some whipped cream on it, as requested, and take it into the bathroom, where she’s up to her neck in the bubble bath. She’s sore. I pushed her too far. So I ran her a bath in the jacuzzi tub and carried her in, carefully lowering her into it, making sure the jets were getting thepressure points between her shoulder blades at just the right angle.

Her silver eyes are soulful, but still with that saucy little attitude behind them, and slightly bloodshot from not getting enough sleep even though she slept in until after nine.

“One latte with whipped cream for the most beautiful girl in the world.”

The sassiness is my weakness, like a hook that sinks deep into my beating heart and refuses to let go. But the soulfulness is my fucking Kryptonite. I can deal with the kittenish anger. Any inkling of vulnerability in this girl has me on my fucking knees.

I’mtryingto tone it down. But it’s no use. One blink of those long eyelashes and I’m whipped like nothing I’ve ever known.

It’s a problem, and one I’m going to need to deal with as soon as we get to L.A.

Until then, I’m going to shower her with praise and presents until she’s smiling again. Because her smile is like water on parched fucking earth and I have no idea why.

I set her latte on the tray next to the tub.

“Thanks.” She’s still miffed about the job thing, and that’s fine. She’ll get over it. I made her reply to the email while I was running the bath to tell them of course she’d love to interview. She obeyed, barely even grumbling about how I’m trying to control her life.

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