Page 42 of Kinks of a Billionaire
We were taking the long way home, but I didn’t complain. The yacht was lavish, sunshine abundant, and food delicious.
Dark, tinted windows ran along the side of the catamaran, meaning we had complete privacy from any curious onlookers when we docked in exotic places. Although the name on the side of the boat,Illicit Sins, probably let everyone’s imaginations run wild. Mine definitely did.
If only there were some illicit sins happening between us, but Royce remained a perfect gentleman.
Except, there was a shiny gold band on both our fingers that served as a healthy reminder.
We got into a routine as we sailed island to island, coastline to coastline.
Every morning he fixed breakfast and woke me up with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, then he used the satelliteto connect into his business network and work on his various surveillance assignments, his outdoor gear empire, and real estate portfolios. Lunch was my domain, which we’d taken to eating on the upper deck. Dinners we always prepared together, working around each other with an ease I’d never found with anyone else. My favorite part, though, was when we could finally relax and cozy up on the couch together.
Today was no exception, but unlike previous times, Royce disappeared into his room shortly after I showed up, mumbling something about my silky pajama shorts and matching sleeveless top.
He’d stared at me with a burning gaze that I practically felt on my skin, like the sun’s caress on a cold winter’s day. I thought—hoped—he’d finally touch me, kiss me, but instead, he bolted out of the room like the devil was on his heels.
Alone and edgy, I attempted to focus on the employment ads that stared back at me from the laptop, but restless energy got the best of me. I threw myself back on the couch in the lounge area, staring out the boat’s dark windows, seeing nothing but the glow of the full moon.
I wanted to be around Royce, hear him talk and tease, maybe even feel his body brush against my sensitive flesh. I’d heard that pregnancy hormones made you incredibly horny, but this was more than that.
My eyes flicked to the clock on the side table, the green digits showing 10:00 p.m.
“Maybe I should masturbate… just to take the edge off,” I muttered under my breath. I considered it for a moment, imagining how it would end if Royce found me that way. Would he do something about it? I shook my head and sighed. “Nah, don’t be ridiculous.”
Talking to yourself was ridiculous too, scolded a voice inside my head.
With a ragged huff, I slid off the couch, feeling deflated and unsatisfied. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d go for a nightcap to cure my restlessness and insomnia, but as it was, that wasn’t an option.
I padded toward my bedroom, my heart thumping and heat twisting through my belly.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted a light pouring from Royce’s cabin down the hallway from my own room, and my heart tripped over itself with excitement. Before I could think it through, I walked toward it.
The door was just barely ajar, but enough to hear a faint, growling moan. I stopped in my tracks as the sound shattered through the air and tingles raced through my body. Unable to resist, I leaned forward, and my breath caught.
Royce was inside, splayed out on the big bed, totally naked with a bottle of lube open on the nightstand. The soft glow threw shadows over his muscular, inked body. I stood there, my mouth forming a perfect O, and attempted to look away.
Okay, fine. I wasn’t really trying. Blame those pesky hormones—I was here for the show.
My gaze trailed the length of him, arrested by the sight of his strong hand wrapped around his shaft.
He was jerking off.
A raw magnetism and almost animalistic energy permeated the air as I watched him clutch at the silk sheet, his thickly muscled thighs spread wide to accommodate his hands, one pulling hard and slow at his cock, the other cupping his sac. I felt his grunts deep in my core.
His head was thrown back against the stack of pillows, neck corded with tension and pleasure staining his beautiful face. I wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes from him if I tried.
My thighs trembled with need as his rugged masculinity drew me in, tempting me with the promise of exquisite pleasure that I knew only this man could give me. He pulled those thickfingers up his shaft again and a bead of precum pooled on the head of his cock. I licked my lips greedily. My mouth literally watered, and I gulped while picturing that thick, long cock between my lips.
It would be so easy to push this door open and beg him to have his way with me, but the fear of rejection held me back. So, like a voyeur, I stood there, admiring his erection that would be the envy of any dildo store.
Dazed, confused, and uncomfortably aroused, my eyes shot back up to my husband’s face to find his eyes on me. Something dark and sinful burned in those coal-colored depths. I didn’t react, my body refusing to move, and slowly, Royce wrapped a palm tighter around his swollen length.
His tense muscles clenched as pleasure racked through him, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth as he worked faster and harder, fucking into his fist with long, brutal strokes.
I moaned, he grunted.
My gaze followed the movements as he squeezed almost violently each time he passed over the crown.
My own arousal dampened my underwear, escaping and trickling down the inside of my thigh. I ached for him, and my mind stumbled over visions of sex with this man, what his big cock would feel like inside me and what he would taste like—salty or musky or sweet.
