Page 44 of My Cruel Billionaire

He gasped, his eyes squeezing shut. I admit to finding a certain satisfaction at being able to make this man who is normally in such total control lose that control. Lose that control because of how he felt about me.

I took more of his length, and he couldn’t take it. He pulled me off of him and stood up to his full height.

“I don’t remember this part,” I said between pants.

“This part is new,” he growled.

I cried out as he spun me around to face away from him. He bent me over the padded armrest. I went willingly, resting my elbows on the cushion on the opposite side. I spread my legs apart as he ran the throbbing head of his member through the groove of my pussy.

I couldn’t wait to feel him inside of me. I lifted my hips, grinding my bottom against him in search of relief. He positioned himself behind me and then pushed his cock inside of my trembling body.

My eyes fluttered closed, and my hands made fists on top of the cushion as he glided inside of me. He filled me, stretched me, sent shivers of pure delight through my whole body. My pussy convulsed around him as he slid all the way in.

Michael pulled himself out about halfway and then thrust back in. My mouth became an O as he continued to thrust, moving his body in just the right way to hit just the right spots. I worked my body in concert with his own, remembering the way we used to heave and rise together.

Spots exploded in my vision as he thrust me toward the precipice of a thunderous orgasm. I saw it coming and couldn’t do anything to stop it, like watching a runaway train about to become a train wreck.

I sucked in a ragged gasp of air and let it out as a scream that left my voice hoarse afterward. Michael’s hands grasped my hips, controlling my body as he thrust in again, slow and deep.

He thrust in again and stayed there, and came inside of me. His cock throbbed like mad and I tore at the cushions so hard I broke a nail. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me. I rode the surf of pleasure helplessly until I collapsed over the divan, panting like I’d just run a marathon.

Michael gently took me in his arms and then sat down on the divan. I lay draped across him, resting my head on his chest as we snuggled close.

“I needed that so much,” I sighed into his skin.

“Good,” he said. "Then you’ll be ready to work tomorrow at nine am sharp.”

Chapter Fifteen

Michael

“This is unacceptable.”

I tossed the file onto the meeting room table in disgust. After all of the things that had happened to potentially derail the merger between NonPoint and Leisure Unlimited, I was hoping for a little good news. I was hoping to grease the wheels of success instead of rusting them up into immobility again.

And then, I’d been faced with this report.

My eyes took in the totality of the meeting room. I sat with my team on the north end of the table. Chad looked between me and the others, trying to pretend he felt no emotions. Blake sat beside him, scribbling on a yellow-lined notepad with one hand and toying with his phone in the other. Trent looked as if he hoped I would whip out an ax and start chopping off the other team’s heads one by one.

In a way, I felt like doing like he wished.

On the other side of the table sat Jenna and her team. Jenna wore a sharp charcoal blazer pant-suit combination that made her look like a government agent who shopped at places with valet parking. Beside her, Becky Storm tried to look less uncomfortable than she probably was. Next to her, Polnaraff tried to stare me down, but that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. The man who can stare me down hadn’t been born yet.

Old man Joestar rolled his eyes and looked at his watch as if exasperated at how much time we were wasting. He might have been right, but I couldn’t help feeling frustrated.

Jenna licked her lips and stood up.

“What do you mean, this is unacceptable? Can you be a little more specific please?” she asked.

She pointed at the file folder I’d tossed onto the table. “You asked us to prepare those documents, and then you barely glance at them before throwing them onto the table in disgust. You need to tell us what part of them displeases you if we’re going to rectify the situation.”

They were, of course, the documents that had gone missing. Rather, they were an attempt to recollect the documents that had gone missing when the thief raided the office safe.

And a very poor attempt they were indeed, at least in my opinion.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” I sputtered.

“Here,” she said, taking the file folder, straightening it up, and handing it back to me. “Let’s start at the beginning, and we’ll go through everything that you find unsatisfactory one by one until we’re done. How does that sound?”

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