Page 43 of Kinks of a Billionaire
Could I even fit him inside my mouth?
The dirty, debaucherous thoughts awakened a starved beast within me. I had never been into voyeurism, but suddenly it felt like I’d been missing out. The pleasure of simply watching this scene unfold elicited more desire from me than any ex-lover had before.
Rooted to the spot by Royce’s heavy gaze, my breathing turned harsher as I waited for the inevitable. There were so many times I’d tried to picture this man coming, the face he’dmake and the sated look that would no doubt replace the usual tension on his face, but nothing had come even close to this.
And I hadn’t even touched him.
His hand contracted around his swelling cock, and I sucked a sharp breath through my teeth when his tempo turned erratic. His muscles bulged as he let out a breathy “Willow” before closing his eyes and climaxing.
His cock thrust one last time, shooting cum across his six-pack. His orgasm seemed to go on forever, spurting out of him and dripping off his fingers as he kept hold of his softening cock.
The sight was such a turn-on that for the first time in my life, I understood the draw of watching from the shadows.
My breathing was labored like I’d just run a marathon. My chest rose and fell, the pulse between my thighs beating like a drum and ringing in my ears.
I startled when Royce slid out of the bed, his eyes leaving me as he headed for his en suite. The moment his muscular ass disappeared from view, I fled like a thief caught in the act.
I made it back to my room on wobbly legs. My skin was hot, and my nipples were so hard they could cut glass. Even the faintest brush of air on my sensitive skin made me tremble.
I stripped down and slid into bed, shivering with the yearning that burned through me. I wanted him. I needed a release, yet as I dipped a hand between my legs, I found the thought lackluster. And lonely.
The sight of Royce was branded into my mind, and my body craved the release that I instinctively knew only he could bring me. But he only wanted his hand, not me, and that left me horny… and indescribably sad.
Chapter 21
Royce
Your brother Byron wants to use this picture to announce the nuptials.
The text message was short, much like most messages from Willow’s parents. They weren’t tech-savvy, and they never would be.
The sun poured through the cabin windows of my makeshift office. The usual catamarans had to be navigated at all times. This one had a navigation system that was first class with an autopilot option, and a destination already programmed in it. It let me detour, but not change the end destination, which I found peculiar.
We were somewhere between Europe and the Americas, but the location wasn’t what had my interest.
It was the attachment Willow’s parents sent with the text.
The more I stared at it, the stronger this peculiar feeling of possessiveness gripped me. It was a photo that someone had snapped during our vows, the grandeur of the church behind us, but the most magnificent sight was Willow. Her, flashing a smilethat could disarm armies, and me, with a look in my eyes that communicated only one truth:Mine.
Her bruises were invisible to the unsuspecting eye, and I was glad for the person who was proficient in photoshop. This would be a photo we’d show our children one day.
The next file contained the photo of us that was snapped when Willow graduated college. She wore her gown, and someone had captured the moment she’d taken her cap and thrown it up in the air, her free hand in mine.
My lips tugged up at the memory of how Willow panicked the next second, not wanting the hat to fall on the ground or get mixed up with someone else’s, so I had to jump up in the air to catch it. Fuck, I’d descend to hell and climb to the gates of heaven just to keep her happy.
My mind flitted back to the night a week ago when she caught me jerking off in my cabin. I hadn’t slept much since then, still tasting the disappointment I felt after returning to my room to find Willow gone. I couldn’t concentrate on work this morning, my mind completely stuck on my wife. I’d jacked off so much since then, my cock was painfully chafed.
I had to fuck her soon or I’d lose my goddamned mind. But I needed her willing and open-minded, and I suspected she still wasn’t ready, because each time I hinted at the incident, she’d change the subject, a sadness briefly crossing her features before she replaced it with a pleasant expression.
A text message popped up, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Byron: You could have told me.
Me: Tell you what?
Byron: Don’t be an idiot. The world thinks you’ve kidnapped her.
Me: And I care because…?
