The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(63)

He pulls me into his chest. With the other, he scratches Tiny behind his ear. Tiny makes a sound that’s almost like purring.

I giggle. "Now, that’s what I feel like doing."

"That’s what your pussy will be doing very soon," he promises.

"Knight!" I blush and glance over my shoulder at Rudy. He’s focused ahead as he eases the car out onto the road.

"He won’t say a word," Knight assures me.

"But he can hear us," I whisper.

"You shy?"

I look up at him from under my eyelashes. "Only if it’s someone I know who’s watching us."

"But if it were someone you didn’t know?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Would you think less of me if I said it’s something that intrigues me?"

He notches his knuckles under my chin so I can’t look away. "I’d never think less of you. You should know that by now."

"Only, you don’t want to have a relationship with me."

He sets his jaw. "I can’t. But"—he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear—"I promise, by the time I’m done with you, I’ll have fulfilled every fantasy of yours."

What if my fantasy is to keep him for myself? But clearly, there’s an expiration date on this—whatever it is between us. And am I going to sleep with him? Am I going to go into this fuckfest—which, given the size of the thickness the stabs into my core, promises to be epic—with no expectation of anything more from him?

"Was seeing me with another man so painful that you decided you were going to fuck me?"

A nerve pops at his temple. Then he leans over and slaps the button that raises the screen in front of us. Guess there are some conversations he doesn’t want Rudy to hear, after all.

He plants his big hands on my hips, then proceeds to fit me over the tent in his crotch.

My entire body shudders. I dig my fingers into the front of his shirt and arch my back. "Not fair," I gasp.

"Don't care," he replies.

He continues to move me back and forth, back and forth over the thickness between his legs, and my eyes roll back in my head. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, I’m going to—"

He pauses, then locks his fingers around the nape of my neck. "Open your eyes."

I slowly peel open my eyelids. And instantly, his gaze locks with mine.

"The first time you’re going to fall apart will be on my cock, in my bed, with my fingers around your throat and my thumb testing the rosette between your arse cheeks, you feel me?"





35





Knight





I carry her inside my private elevator, her arms and legs wrapped around me. She has her face buried in my throat, and I know it’s because she’s too embarrassed to meet Rudy’s gaze. She has nothing to be ashamed about.

Rudy served in the military. I met him at an event for veterans I attended before I left on my mission. We hit it off at once.

When I returned from my recent misadventure, I found out he was looking for a job. He's a good man. I immediately contacted him to offer him the position of my chauffeur. It’s a far cry from the tanks he used to drive on the front-line, but there’s no one else I’d trust with my life more than him.

I wanted Adam to come work for me, but that was a no-go. He's not going to set foot inside an office, if he can help it. He much prefers to work outdoors. He wants to use his hands. Wants to feel the roughness of sand between his palms, of grit under his fingernails as he labors under the sun and in the cold. He wants the satisfaction of building something from the ground up, he said.

He also wants to spend time with his wife and daughter. He's fond of reminding me that tomorrow is never promised. After being away so long, he doesn't want to waste time. They need him and he wants to be there for them. In a sense, I don’t blame him.

In fact, I envy him. The man has a family he cares for, a wife and daughter he loves for whom he’d do anything. Also, he doesn’t have the weight of his father’s company hanging around his neck. He doesn’t have this driving need to prove something to the world. He isn’t driven by revenge or the pull to self-destruct. He hasn’t yet made his peace with what happened, but he doesn’t let it rule his present. He's following his instincts and doing what he feels he needs to do to heal himself and his family.

And me? I don’t want to heal. I want to keep the frustration from what happened fresh so it can fuel this intense rage inside me. The only time I feel calm, the only time I allow myself to feel peace, is when I'm with her. It’s why I brought her back home.

I carry her inside the kitchen and place her on the island. When I pull back, she refuses to let go. I kiss her nose, her eyelids, each of her cheeks, then brush my mouth over hers. Tiny bumps against me, pushing me deeper into the space between her legs. My swollen shaft stabs through the crotch of my pants and into her core, and she moans. I swallow down the sound, then drag my tongue across the seam of her lips. She tilts her head up, and I deepen the kiss. I stab my tongue inside her mouth, wrap my arms about her, and pull her in until her breasts are flattened against my chest.

Tiny shuffles against me, then whines.

I manage to release her mouth and push my forehead into hers. "I need to feed him."