Page 122 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

He removes my underwear with excruciating slowness, then turns me to face him. His eyes are heated as they take in my disheveled state. Blouse rumpled, hair a mess, standing before him half-naked and desperate. My gaze drops to his crotch, and I can see the outline of his engorged member standing out in stark relief beneath his pants.

“On your knees,” he directs, and I comply without hesitation.

He unbuckles his belt, the sound of leather sliding through fabric loops inexplicably erotic. His eyes never leave mine as he unzips his pants, freeing his cock, already hard and straining.

“Open,” he commands, and I part my lips, anticipation building as he guides himself into my mouth.

His groan of satisfaction as I take him in sends a thrill through me. This... this is power, too. I felt it on Day 2 when I first completed Clause 7b. I felt it again on Day 14. And I’m feeling it now.

The way his hands tighten in my hair, the way his breathing hitches when I hollow my cheeks and suck harder.

“Fuck, Tatiana,” he rasps. “Your mouth...”

I look up at him through my lashes, reveling in the raw desire on his face. In this moment, there’s no distance between us, no emotional walls. Just need, pure and simple.

He pulls back suddenly, his control visibly fraying. “Stand up. Turn around.”

I’m actually relieved. It’s...uncomfortable... to use a euphemism, when he loses control and frantically pounds my mouth with that huge cock of his.

I obey, facing the desk again. I hear him tear open a condom packet, and glance over my shoulder in time to catch him sliding the sheath over his gorgeous cock.

Next his hands are on my hips, positioning me, and then he’s pushing into me in one fluid motion that makes me cry out.

“Is this what you wanted when you provoked me?” he asks, his voice strained as he begins to move. “To be fucked over my desk?”

“Maybe,” I admit, gasping as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “Is it working?”

His pace intensifies in response, one hand sliding around to circle my clit with maddening precision. “What do you think?”

I can’t think at all. Can only feel. His cock is stretching me perfectly, while his fingers work magic on my most sensitive spot. The lingering sting of the spanking only adds a complex layer to the heat building inside me... making that heat feel somehow even more pleasurable, if that’s possible.

“Dom,” I warn, feeling myself teetering on the edge. “I’m going to—”

“Cum for me,” he urges, his rhythm never faltering. “Now, Tatiana.”

My orgasm crashes through me with stunning intensity, wave after wave of pleasure that has me crying out his name repeatedly.

“Dom! Dom! FUCK! DOM!”

He follows moments later, his grip on my hips almost bruising as he pulses inside his condom.

For several long moments, we stay locked together, both catching our breath. His forehead rests against my shoulder, his breathing gradually slowing.

Reality seeps back in by degrees.

He withdraws carefully, helping me stand upright. He removes the condom, tosses it into the trash bin next to the desk.

I pull my panties back on, and there’s an awkward moment as we both straighten our clothing, the heated passion of moments ago giving way to something more uncertain.

He studies me a moment, and there’s a doubt in his gaze. And then a switch flicks, as if he’s made up his mind. “We should get cleaned up. Dinner?”

Just like that, we’re back to normal. Or whatever passes for normal in this bizarre relationship.

“Sure,” I agree. “Dinner sounds good. I only had a salad.”

As I head to the bathroom to freshen up, I try to ignore the way my heart aches beneath my ribs.

Three days left. And then what?

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