Page 65 of Kinks of a Billionaire
This woman—my wife—was mine. Her breasts. Her ass. Her pussy. All fucking mine. I reached around and parted her thighs,sliding my finger past her folds. She was soaked. So fucking wet that my fingers were drenched within seconds.
She was intoxicating, like a drug that never left your system.
I pushed in deeper, and her pussy clenched around my fingers. Her head fell backward, watching me over her shoulder through heavy eyelids, and her cheeks flushed. With my free hand, I fisted her hair and tugged it back, aware others from the party were watching. They could barely see us though. Only our silhouettes would be visible with how I’d dimmed the lights.
Her pussy strangled my fingers, eager for more as I worked her up. Her moans grew louder, her ass pushing against me.
Then, without warning, I retreated my fingers and brought them to her mouth. Her lips parted and she sucked them clean. Fuckingbeautiful.
Still gripping her hair with one hand, I slid my rock-hard cock along her folds, then slammed into her. She was tight, her walls closing around my cock like a vise.
Her moans vibrated straight to my chest as I fucked her hard. She felt like heaven. One that I had no right to but was grateful for. What remained of my control disintegrated as I fucked her relentlessly. She matched each one of my thrusts with a whimper.
Worried I’d break her and aware that pregnancy might make her sensitive, I forced myself to ease up, brushing kisses along her shoulders and loosening my hold in her hair.
“More,” she whimpered, then gulped audibly, her throat working hard. I shouldn’t have been surprised—Willow was not the type to be underestimated—but I still found myself chuckling.
Happy to oblige, I picked up my pace as I pounded into her. Her soft moans turned into gasping, urgent cries. She was close. I felt it as if it were my own orgasm. I turned her head anotherinch so I could be the one to see her face as she shattered with pleasure.
Her green eyes glazed with desire and her mouth parted as I fucked her faster and deeper. With a final cry, I felt her fall apart, her pussy milking me for all I had.
A shudder rippled down my spine and I followed her over the edge. The most powerful orgasm of my life cut through me and I blew my load right into her tight pussy.Fuck. Me.
Her body slumped back into me, seeking my comfort. I turned her toward me, running my hands along her thighs and her hips and her shoulders, and took her mouth in a searing kiss. She was going to be the death of me.
Chapter 32
Willow
Sex with Royce was explosive. Beautiful, thrilling, and each time better than the last.
My whole body was pressed against the glass while my muscles quivered, and I suspected my husband wasn’t done with me. He peppered soft kisses against my nape, his hands roaming my body, smoothing over each plane and crevice until coming to land on my stomach.
“Too rough?”
“Perfect,” I murmured, meeting his eyes. I was glad he was still supporting most of my weight with how sluggish and shaky my limbs were.
“I love you so fucking much,” he murmured against my ear, and heat shot straight to my core, desire fluttering through me. He just fucked the living daylights out of me, and I was already ready for round two.
Royce straightened up and slid out of me, then pushed my dress down so I was decent again.
He circled his arms around me, bringing us chest to chest, and I sighed into him. The sex was wonderful, and I wasn’t lyingwhen I told him how rough I liked it, but his aftercare was like a soothing balm.
He used a hand to turn my head, sealing his mouth over mine. His tongue pushed inside, and I swallowed his moan.
“Let’s go back to the boat first thing in the morning,” he murmured. “I want you all to myself again.”
I slipped my hand into his, our fingers interlocking. “Okay.”
“Ready for bed?”
I nodded, and we made our way out of the room. His arm draped over my shoulder, and I focused on him as we walked across the polished floors, trying not to trip over my heels. I felt Royce’s body tense next to me, and I flicked a curious look to his face to find him staring straight ahead.
I followed his eyes and gasped with disbelief. Stuart’s parents were here, standing barely five feet in front of us. Mrs. Harris held her hands on his hips while Mr. Harris leered at me. Goose bumps skated across my arms as I watched his eyes darken and his tongue dart over his lips.
“Willow.” Stuart’s mother was quick to greet me with a sour expression while my mind reeled with the possibility that these two might have watched Royce and me. The mere idea had bile rising in my throat.
“Mrs. Ashford to you,” Royce corrected her, my good mood quickly fading at the sight of Stuart’s parents.
