Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(27)

Both of us were waiting.

Hooking his fingers into his jacket and tie, he fished them over his head. My heart began to race as he flicked his buttons, peeling his dress-shirt open to expose his torso. His muscles were as defined as steps in a mountain, the edges shadowed and leading me down.

I could see the outline of his cock, seconds before he made it even easier through his tight briefs. There was a damp spot, and my clit swelled as I understood. Precome. He was as excited as I was.

Silver slid his palms upwards, draping across my body to grip my wrists. He squeezed, breathing in while I moaned. The wetness of his seeking mouth conquered mine. Slipping around firmly, his tongue pressed down, trapping mine as surely as he'd trapped the rest of me.

The unbreakable shield of his chest ground along my front. In a single swipe, he yanked the dress down, popping my bra free. My panties were ripped to my knees. There was nothing between us but skin and unspoken words.

I was on the verge of calling his name, and he... I'm not sure. I only sensed there was something on the tip of his tongue.

Instead of speaking, he kissed me again.

Fingertips smoothed over my * lips, up and down. Spreading me, he dipped into the wetness he'd created. “You're dripping,” he whispered.

Burying himself in me up to the knuckle, he pushed against my warm walls. “Ah!” I gasped, my knees scraping together. He was testing how sensitive I was, the roof of my * already tingling with rawness.

I was hyper aware of his every motion, my heart leaping—my thighs shaking. Lowering himself, he rolled his tongue over my exposed clit. I jumped; he did it again, licking quicker.

The straps curled against my wrists. “That's too much,” I whimpered.

Silver glanced up at me, his face hidden by my *, but I felt his expression.

That smirk cut over my flesh, then it buried on my twitching clit all over again. Straining against my bonds, I worked to hold back a desperate moan. When he bent his fingers inside of me, adding a third, I lost the battle.

“Fuck,” I sobbed, arching like a bridge in the wind. “Silver—please!”

All at once he stopped everything. It was so abrupt that I thought something must be wrong. Looking down my sweating body, I stared into his burning eyes. “Beg me,” he said, breathing heavily. He looked delirious. “Tell me you need me to let you come.”

If I wasn't already flushing, I would have started. “Beg you?”

Gripping my ankles, he threw my legs over his shoulders. My * was trapped inches from his smile. “Beg me,” he commanded, “Or I'll take you to the edge of orgasm and never let you over.”

As turned on as I was, this demand made me squirm awkwardly. “I don't think I can.”

“You can.” His thumbs peeled my lower lips wide. “You will,” he said, the syllables tickling my skin. “Maybe you just need some motivation.”

His tongue lapped at me, a starving man sitting before a feast. The tip would firmly circle my clit, making me gyrate helplessly. Each time I shook, tensing on the brink of coming, he'd retreat and kiss my inner thighs, or my knee, or any place else.

Sweat ran down into my eyes. It collected across my breasts, dripping into my bellybutton. The tension in my muscles was starting to hurt, everything as stiff as steel beams. In a short time—had it been short?—he'd made my body feel like I'd been struggling through a marathon.

But still, he kept the finish line out of reach.

Boiling, I grit my teeth and tossed my head. “Stop teasing me, please!” I shouted.

“Fuck, say please again. That's what I want to hear.”

Silver wrapped his lips around my cunt, suckling gingerly. My orgasm danced on the fringe of my vision, it corrupted my damn mind with desperation. I could buck and strain all I wanted, but he'd just inch away, my swollen * robbed of contact.

I shattered. “Please!” I sobbed, nearly incoherent. “Let me come, let me finish, f*cking let me just come! Silver, please! Please!”

Instead of release, he stopped touching me entirely.

Gasping, I stared at him in disbelief. He was kneeling over me, a foil packet shredding in his fingers. In spite of his calm movements, I could feel the lust coming off of him in waves. It made the air heavy, pressing me further into the soaked blankets.

Silver slid the condom down his shaft with practiced ease. He flipped me on my belly, the straps binding my skin tighter. “I'm going to f*ck you now.” His palm ran down my vertebrae, capturing one of my ass cheeks and digging in. “I'm going to bury my cock into you inch by f*cking inch. Then I'm going to do it again. And again. And again. Until you forget your name, thinking of yourself entirely as mine, and no one else's.”

I was holding my breath. What was I supposed to say?

He pressed the head of his cock against my *. If he wanted a response from me, he didn't wait to hear it.

The first thrust stretched me dangerously. The tip of his length filled me, dragging along my flexing inner walls. Pushing my face into the pillow, I gripped at the bed-frame. I couldn't manage much with my wrists tied, my fingers were barely hooking on. I needed every fragment of control I could find.

“Ah!” I gasped, a thrill running through me when I felt him slide fully into place. My ears were ringing, a blackness creeping around my vision. Was I losing focus from pleasure, or because I kept forgetting to take in a full breath?