Page 104 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

I start to move, finding a rhythm, my hips driving forward, pushing deep, withdrawing almost completely, then slamming right back in.

Taking her.

Possessing her.

Right here.

In my office.

The sheer fucking audacity of it fuels the fire. My hand slides around her waist, finding her breast, kneading gently, my thumb teasing her nipple to a hard peak. My other hand slides down between her legs, my fingers finding her bumpy clit, and I rub slow, deliberate circles.

“Oh Leo,” she moans.

“That’s it,” I grunt against her neck, feeling her start to buck against me. “You like that?”

“Mmmm.” She nods frantically, unable to speak, whimpers escaping her lips.

I increase the pressure on her clit, matching the rhythm of my thrusts.

“Look at your reflection,” I command, nodding towards the large, dark screen of the powered-down monitor on the far wall. It reflects our joined bodies, a distorted, erotic image. “Watch us.”

Her head turns slightly, her eyes finding the reflection. A choked gasp escapes her. Seeing herself like this, taken from behind, exposed, my cock driving hard into her… it pushes her closer to the edge.

Her hips grind back against me harder.

“Look at you,” I growl against her ear, fingers digging into the flare of her hips. “Watching yourself take every inch. Loving every minute of it.Fuck, you’re shameless.”

I look at her reflection, too. At the way her beautiful breasts hang down, framed by her dangling hair.I see the sweat-slick curve of her spine, the primal clench of her thighs as she takes me deeper. It’s abstract, almost obscene... just shapes and movement, her ass flush against my hips, the raw, wet rhythm of us fucking instead of talking PR and damage control.

Her gaze locks onto mine in the glass, defiance and desperation warring in those pupils.

“You love this,” I rasp, my thrusts punctuating each word. “Love getting fucked by my huge cock.”

A shattered moan tears free as her nails scrape the couch. The reflection doesn’t hide a thing, not the way her throat works around my name, not the tremor in her calves as she fights the climax threatening to unwind her body like a loaded spring.

“Whose cock is filling you up, Sabrina?” I demand, my voice rough. “Whose cock is making you come apart right now?”

“Yours,” she finally chokes out, her words almost unintelligible. “Leo… oh god… yours…”

“Yeah, fucking right.Mine.” I thrust harder, faster, rubbing her clit relentlessly. “Beg for it. Tell me you need it.”

“Please,” she sobs, her body convulsing around me. “Leo, please… I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, you fucking gorgeous momma,” I growl, feeling my own release building, hot and demanding. “Cum on my cock. Now!”

With a final, strangled cry, she shatters, her inner muscles clenching around me in wave after powerful wave.

I can literally feel the clenching, like her pussy is milking me, and that orgasm of hers trigger my own.

“’Brina!” I roar, emptying myself deep inside her... or rather, the condom.

Then I collapse against her back, spent,breathing hard, the scent of sex and expensive leather filling the air. And what does sex smell like, you might ask?

This... salt and sweat and the tang of her slick still on my cock. It’s her perfume turned ferocious, peonies and cardamom and saffron clawing through something darker, more primal... the raw musk of my release smeared inside the condom... the stench of her surrender and my hunger tangled so thickly I can taste it. Like copper, like a split lip, like licking a battery.

Our scent.

Mine.

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