Page 125 of The Billionaire's Secret
"To use…"
"To use."
"To rip apart."
She hiccups.
I glare at her.
She pales."To rip apart." Her lips glisten.
"To piece back together." I scan her features.
A tear slides down her cheek, I lick it up. "Don’t stop, Gigi."
"To piece back together," she whispers.
I lower my forehead tohers, "So help me, God."
"So help me…"
I thrust forwardand she screams, "God!"
I close my mouth over hers, absorb the sound. I fuck her, with more intensity than I’ve done anything else before in my life. I pull her close enough that her breasts are flattened against my chest, her nipples hard enough to imprint themselves into my skin.
My balls draw up; the pressure builds at the base of my spine.
I pull back, gaze into her eyes. "Come for me, Gigi," I growl.
Her body bucks, her eyes roll back in her head, her spine arches, the trembling sweeps up her legs, her breasts thrust up, and her mouth opens. She shatters, and so do I. I come, shooting hot gusts of cum inside of her, watching her, matching her, taking her with me, over the edge. Sparks of white flash behind my eyes. My knees seem to buckle under me. I stagger back, still inside of her, holding her to me. Make it around to the bed and sink down on my back, pulling her to me.
Tension drains from my limbs. I cuddle her and she turns her head into my chest. I tuck her head under my chin. Her muscles twitch, her breathing evens out.
I let sleep pull me under, making sure to keep her plastered to me.
The images swamp me. I know I’m dreaming but I can’t stop myself.
"Don’t go, Mom."
My mother grips my arms, " I wanted to stay for you, but I can’t. I can’t do this, Saint. I’m sorry."
"So that's it?" Anger suffuses my chest, " You're leaving?" I take a step forward. At thirteen I already tower over her.
Her lips firm. "I tried, Saint, I really did. But it's too hard. You know what they say about ensuring you have your oxygen mask on before you fit it over your child, during turbulence on a flight—?
"What’s that got to do with anything?"
"This is my version of it, Saint." Her lips twist "I need to breathe. I need to make sure I survive, else I'll be of no use to anyone else."
She turns away, wheels her suitcase along as she heads for the door.
"Jasmine," my father calls after her, "if you leave, you'll never get another penny from me."
She pauses at the door. "You think I married you for your money, William? You are wrong. All I wanted was you, a home for us that I could fill with love. But that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted more power, more money…more everything. It’s why your son was kidnapped, and even then, you didn’t have the time to negotiate for his release."
"I paid up, didn’t I?"
She whirls around. "Open your eyes, William. Money doesn’t buy everything."
