Page 10 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he rises to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a gesture so erotic I feel myself clench in response.

“Turn around,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.

I comply without thinking, facing the large mirror above the sinks. Behind me, I hear the rustle of his board shorts dropping to the floor, followed by the distinct sound of a condom wrapper tearing.

His reflection appears behind mine, his chiseled chest pressed to my back, his impressive cock sheathed and ready. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and the raw hunger I see there matches my own.

“Look at us,” he murmurs into my ear, one hand sliding around to stroke between my legs again. “Look how beautiful you are when you want something.”

I barely recognize myself... flushed, wild-haired, pupils dilated. I look wanton, desperate, nothing like the controlled professional who schedules Christopher Blackwell’s life to the minute.

I like this me better.

Dom positions himself at my entrance, teasing me with just the tip. “Tell me what you want, Tatiana.”

“You,” I breathe, pushing back against him. “I want you inside me.Now!”

He enters me in one smooth thrust that has both of us groaning. He’s big, stretching me in ways that border between pleasure and pain, but the drug transforms even that slight discomfort into something transcendent.

“Fuck,” he hisses against my neck. “You... feel... incredible.”

He begins to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. One hand grips my hip while the other finds my breast, pinching my nipple in time with his movements. I brace myself against the counter, watching our reflection as he takes me.

There’s something unbearably erotic about seeing us together like this. His larger frame surrounding mine, his face twisted in pleasure, the muscles in his ripped arms flexing with each movement. I find myself pushing back to meet his thrusts, demanding more from him with my body.

“Harder! Faster!” I scream.

He obliges, his pace increasing until the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the marble bathroom. I’m building toward another orgasm, this one promising to be even more intense than the last.

“Touch yourself,” Dom commands, his voice strained with effort. “I want to feel you cum around my cock.Right now.”

I slide my hand between my legs, finding my clit swollen and sensitive. It takes only a few circles of my fingers before I’m clenching around him, crying out his name as pleasure explodes through me.

“Dom!”

My orgasm triggers his, and Dom thrusts deep one final time, his body going rigid as he pulses inside me. He collapses against my back, both of us breathing hard, sweaty and sated.

For a long moment, we stay like that, connected and speechless. Then slowly, carefully, he withdraws, turning me gently to face him. There’s something tender in the way he grips my hips.

“That was...” he begins.

“Yeah,” I agree, words still beyond me.

The drug is still pumping through my system, but there’s a clarity breaking through, a realization of what we’ve just done. I wait for panic to set in, for my usual post-hookup regret to flood me.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, I feel light, giddy even. Dom disposes of the condom and pulls his shorts back on while I gather my bikini pieces. We clean up as best we can, but there’s no disguising what we’ve been doing. My carefully styled hair is a mess, my lips swollen, my skin flushed.

“You’re beautiful,” Dom says, catching me examining myself in the mirror.

I blush, finally feeling a hint of my usual self-consciousness returning. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He grins, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “So... what now?”

“Now we go back out there and pretend we didn’t just have mind-blowing sex in a bathroom?” I suggest.

Dom laughs, the sound rich and genuine. “Is that what you want?”

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