Page 116 of The Billionaire's Secret
My vision tunnels. I swipe my throbbing cock across the valley between her arsecheeks. She shudders.
"Do you want me here?"
She nods.
"Say it aloud."
"Take me, Saint. Please."
Thank Fuck. I draw back, then insert my thumb inside her puckered hole. She groans. I ease my finger inside. She bangs her forehead against the pillar. With my remaining fingers I scoop up some more of the moisture from her pussy, then add a finger to my thumb.
"Oh." Her shoulders hunch. "It’s… it’s…"
What?"
"Different," she huffs.
"No shit." I set my jaw, "I am going to ensure you never forget our first time."
I dip my other palm between her thighs. I cup her pussy, shove three fingers inside her soaking channel, and her entire body bucks. She throws her head back, her hair rippling about her shoulders. "Ohmigod," she gasps. "Saint… I… I…" A trembling sweeps up her legs. Her breathing goes shallow. A whine spills from her lips. "I’m…going to come—" she gasps.
The doorbell sounds and I pull out my fingers.
"No!" Her body jerks as if she’s unable to stop herself. She whips her head in my direction. "Don’t you dare leave me—"
The bell sounds again.
"Sorry, sweetheart, no choice."
I take a step back, lose my footing and stumble.Shit.I’m as off balance as she is. Truth be told… If the doorbell hadn't rung—as I’d planned for it to—I’d have taken her right then, in the arse, then proceeded to tear into her pussy too. Good thing I don’t trust myself around her anymore.Since when have I needed checks and balances around another person, huh?
Since I met her.
Since she’d flipped the entire situation by proposing the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything—to take her as mine, to make her submit, to bend her will to mine, have her shatter around me.Fuck.I drag my fingers through my hair. Who is breaking whom here? I’m no longer sure.
The bell rings again. She straightens, "Saint…?"
I don’t reply. I pivot on my heels, push my dick back into my pants as I walk out of the bedroom, past the living room, and wrench the door open.
A room service attendant straightens. Her face pales. On the cart in front of her is a bottle of Champagne, a bowl of strawberries, and a variety of cheeses and dips.
"Should I wheel this in?" Her voice trembles.
"No," I growl.
"Ah…compliments of the—"
"Leave," I pull the cart into the room.
"The staff and the management wish you—"
"Fuck off—"
"But… Damian wanted me to tell you—"
I glower at her.
She pales, opens her mouth again.
