Page 83 of Dominant Billionaire's Irresistible Possession

Her eyes fluttered open. “You’re not done,” she whispered, more realization than question.

Adrian lifted his head from her neck, eyes dark, sweat-slicked strands of hair falling into his face. He looked at her like a man starved, like she was the only thing in the world that could satisfy him, and he still hadn’t had enough.

“Yes,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along her jaw. “You ruined me the second you started riding me. Now I can’t stop.”

Without warning, he pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. She barely had time to gasp before he gripped her hips and yanked her back, lifting her ass toward him. Her knees scraped against the sheets, body still trembling as he filled her again from behind in one hard, hungry thrust.

“Ahhh!” She cried out, arms collapsing under her as he drove into her again, deeper, rougher, harder.

There was no rhythm anymore, just pure, frenzied need. The sound of his skin slapping against hers echoed through the room, his hands gripping her hips so tight she’d feel the bruises tomorrow. He leaned over her, one hand sliding up her back, pressing her down into the mattress while he kept slamming into her from behind, wild and merciless.

“Say my name,” he growled against her ear, voice raw.

“Adrian,” she gasped, her voice catching with every thrust. “Oh…!”

He groaned, fucking her harder. “Say it louder.”

“Adrian!” She screamed it this time, her voice breaking as she shattered around him again, her orgasm burning every vein inside her body. She clenched around him so tightly that he cursed again, burying himself deep and holding there, his whole body jerking as he came a second time, hot and thick, spilling inside her with a broken moan.

He collapsed beside her for only a few seconds, pulling her into his arms, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her shoulder. His hands roamed her body again, slow and gentle now, but possessive. As if he was claiming every inch all over again.

And when he slid into her again, from the side this time, it was different—deeper, slower, but no less intense.

This time, he took his time. Rolling his hips into hers like a wave, building her back up gently while he whispered soft praises against her skin.

“You feel too good,” he murmured. “Every part of you was made for me.”

Her body obeyed him without question, already melting, already rising toward another high. Her thighs trembled around him, her breath coming in quiet, broken little gasps.

Adrian kissed her as they came together again—deep and messy, swallowing her moan as she clenched around him and he spilled into her one last time, both of them shaking, drenched, completely spent.

They lay there in silence, chests heaving, skin sticking together from sweat and heat and everything they'd just shared.

And finally, when her body stopped trembling, when her head could think clearly again, she nudged his cheek with her nose and muttered breathlessly, “This… this is exactly why I said you don’t get to cum first.”

Adrian blinked, still drunk on her, his thumb stroking her cheek lazily. “Why?”

She gave him a look. “Because the second you do… youlosecontrol. And then I’m stuck. Shaking, ruined, and completely fucked until morning.”

He grinned, unapologetic. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw. “I know.”

He pressed another kiss to her collarbone, voice low and rough. “You already know what’s coming in five minutes—once you’ve caught your breath.”

She let out a soft groan, burying her face in his chest. “You’re insatiable.”

Adrian chuckled, the sound dark and quiet, as his hands found her hips again. “Let me help you get ready.”

Within seconds, he was between her legs, fingers deep inside her, unrelenting as he worked her g-spot with expert precision. Her sweet, breathless, desperate cries only excited him more. She squirted for him again and again, body trembling, soaking his hand as he pushed her to the edge over and over for the next hour.

All to make sure she was more than ‘ready’ for what he was about to do to her.

***

Sienna stepped into the living room and paused at the sight.

Adrian stood at the table, setting out breakfast, sleeves rolled up, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. The billionaire was barefoot, shirtless, and casually plating toast like a private chef.

She smirked as she walked up behind him. “Mr. Vaughn, since when did you become a chef? I don’t remember you even glancing at a kitchen before. Look at you now, acting like my personal breakfast butler.”

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