Page 108 of The Elusive Billionaire
Asshole.
My mouth is too full to complain, and he takes advantage of that too by dropping between my thighs, eating the piece of pancake, and then attacking my clit with ruthless precision right through the fabric of my clothes.
“Oh.” It’s the only sound I can manage as I scramble to chew and swallow.
“I can smell how much you want me, Sav. Do you have any idea how much that turns me on? Nothing has ever been as sweet as you, salty as you, goddamn incredible as you.”
He bypasses my sleep shorts, going straight up the leg hole to clamp his lips over my clit through my sheer panties, and stars fill my vision.
A long, low moan escapes my lips, and without breaking contact with my core, Grey somehow manages to grab a piece of bacon and then shove the entire thing into my mouth.
It’s heavenly, and my only fear is that he’s creating a new kink, a Pavlovian response to bacon and his dick. Every time I smell bacon for the rest of my life, I’ll remember how his sinfully skilled tongue tasted me.
“Have you touched yourself to thoughts of me, Sav?” I cry out when his finger slips under the band of my panties. His knuckle grazes my seam over and over again as sparks light up my entire nervous system.
“Yes.” There’s no point in lying. He knows I struggled when he left. That says more about my feelings for him than any words ever could.
He grabs the fork again, this time lifting my tank and bringing a bite of his creation to my belly, rubbing the sticky sweetness all over my skin. His free hand drags my shorts and panties down to my thighs, and I gasp as the syrup trail dips lower, over my clit, across my lips, and back up to my other hip before he lifts the fork to my mouth.
“Taste how sweet you are, Sav.”
I don’t even hesitate to open my mouth, but the only thing I taste is syrup and blueberries. He’s created a huge mess on my skin and wastes no time cleaning it up with his tongue, his lips, his entire mouth.
His dark gaze darts from my pussy to the plate, and I whine in protest.
“No more pancakes, Grey. Please. Please just touch me.”
His expression turns feral, and I know I’ve got him.
“Do you have any idea what hearing you beg does to me? I could come in my fucking underwear just hearing you beg for me.” He lowers his shorts, and his fist wraps around his thick, pulsing cock, but his gaze darts back to the plate of food.
“You have an unhealthy food kink, you know that?”
He ignores me as he finishes removing my clothes, but his smile shines in his eyes. “I don’t have a food kink.”
I scoff, but it dies on my lips when he uses his thumbs to open my pussy lips to him. “What would you call it then?”
His mouth clamps down over my clit, and I keen like a cat in heat. Fuck. He’s too good at this. I’m so lost in sensation thathe’s flipped me to my hands and knees before I even realize I’m moving.
His cock nudging my entrance causes me to arch my back and push against him.
“I’d call it a Savannah kink.” He leans over my back, bringing his mouth to my ear. His hand darts out to grab my chin, twisting my neck until he can meet my eyes. “But if having a food kink is what it takes to keep you by my side, then I’ll happily fuck you while feeding you any food your heart desires.”
It’s simultaneously the sweetest and most fucked-up thing anyone has ever said to me.
But that’s what we are together, right? Sweet, fucked-up, combustible, insatiable, inevitable.
“No more food, Grey. I’m not a game you can play and win. You either want me for me and all my messed-up scars, or you let me go and we move forward as friends.”
He rams his giant cock into me in one go with no warning, and a shocked cry pulls from deep in my chest.
His hand instantly covers my mouth to muffle the sound.
“Does this feel like a game to you?” He growls. His thrusts border on punishing, and I love every second of it. “You think you need to punish yourself for shit, but that’s not going to happen anymore.”
Greyson fucks me as if the end of the world is coming and the only thing that will save us is an orgasm so intense we convince the universe to hold its breath. He’s hard and unforgiving. The sound of skin against skin, his groans and grunts, my moans that go on into infinity fill the air, adding to the soundtrack of us.
We shouldn’t work.
