Page 105 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
He turned me around, bringing us face-to-face. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Every fiber of me drummed in anticipation to have him again. Last night, he took me so many times, my thighs still ached from it. It was the sweetest kind of pain.
“What I mean is, the world is at your feet.” Arousal danced like fire in his eyes, and he took my bottom lip between his teeth. I didn’t break the kiss. I wanted him. “Raise your hands.”
I instantly obeyed, and he yanked the sweater over my head. My bra was unfastened and discarded onto the floor next. Trailing his mouth over my jaw, reaching my ear and nibbling my earlobe. He expertly unbuttoned my jeans and shimmied them down my legs as he dropped to his knees. I raised my left foot, letting him slide my flats off. He did the same with my right foot.
Without another word, Byron tore my underwear off in one fluid motion, then dragged his tongue up my slit. I gasped. He growled.
My husband’s teeth grazed my pussy as my head fell back against the mirror. “Ohhh.”
He thrust his tongue between my lips, striking my nerves. My hands came to his head, gripping his strands.
“Byron,” I whispered, while he laved me in a sensual rhythm, his growling noises vibrating through me. “Don’t be rough. I’m sore from last night.”
“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he murmured against my pussy and my knees turned to water. His lapping turned into languid French kissing. Heat simmered in my core, threatening to send me into a spiral.
My nipples hardened the moment Byron took my clit between his teeth, sucking on it lazily. An orgasm curled in the pit of my stomach, spreading down to my toes. Ache forgotten, I fisted his hair and rode his face. Desperate. Needy.
“Ahhh… Byron.”
He drove his tongue back into me, massaging my clit with his thumb and tearing me apart. My moans shattered the air, his name a constant on my lips. His tongue sank deep inside me, and I arched my back, holding on to him. I trusted him to have me. Again and again—like he did last night.
It was so counterintuitive. He broke my heart six years ago, but I trusted him to have me now. At least, my body did. He nipped my clit. Gently.
I moaned so loud, skating on the edge of orgasm, that I thought I’d die if he stopped. I gripped his hair so tightly, my knuckles turned white. I was slick with arousal, grinding shamelessly against his face, needing him more than I needed air to breathe. The thrust of his tongue. And another. My orgasm shot through me, shudders seizing every muscle in my body.
I rocked against his face, unraveling inch by inch and letting the most beautiful sensation flood my body. It felt like floating on a cloud over the warm waters of paradise.
Byron rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while his other hand curved around my neck, drawing my ear to his lips.
He gave me a slow, satisfied smile, but his eyes darkened. “I see Marco sniffing around you again, and I’ll end him. His career. His family. His entire world.”
His eyes burned, his mouth still glistening with my arousal.
“You touch him, and you won’t see me again,” I said, my tone slightly breathless from the orgasm he gave me. “I told you, he’s married and it’s strictly a friendship.”
He cupped my face, leaning in and pressing a slow kiss to my lips. His tongue swept through my parted lips.
“Maybe for you, but not for him,” he whispered.
He kissed me again, deep and hard, swallowing my protest. My eyes fluttered shut in bliss. Kissing with Byron was almost as good as sex. The way he devoured me, like I was a luxury he wasn’t accustomed to. Every touch and grunt covered my body in goose bumps, and I could orgasm from this alone.
He gripped my hair with his one hand, tilting my head so he could taste every inch of my mouth. He trailed his lips down my neck to my bare shoulders, turning me around.
The reflection of the two of us. Byron towering behind me, his eyes hooded as his hands roamed my body. With his lips on my neck and his teeth scraping my skin, he brought his hand around and parted my wet folds, sliding his fingers through them.
His cock was hard against my butt. He’d just given me an orgasm and here he was, taking care of me again. Our arousal pumped thickly between us, bouncing off the bathroom wall. I could taste it—his need—and I wanted to take care of him. The way he took care of me.
“Byron, I want to—”
The words died on my tongue as he slid two fingers inside my clenching pussy while his other hand cupped my breast.
He slid another finger in and the burn of three thick fingers fucking me felt hot and addictive. The sound of my wetness echoed through the air. Filthy and erotic. I lifted my leg, propping it on the corner of the luxurious, freestanding bathtub. Fuck gentle. I needed his fingers inside me deeper and rougher.
“Byron,” I whimpered. “Please, I want you inside me.”
I pushed my bare ass against him, grinding so he knew I meant it. He hissed.
“You’re sore, baby.”
