The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(67)

I stay where I am, unable to move. Unable to comprehend why it feels like it’s not only her first time, but also mine. Why every cell in my body is open and alive and focused on making this good for her. I grit my teeth and wait… Wait as she adjusts to my size. Her chest rises and falls. She wraps her fingers around my arms that I’ve planted on either side of her head, careful to hold my weight off of her, while allowing her to feel the full impact of my cock. I pull out slightly, then thrust forward, and it's like coming home.





38





Penny





He pushes inside and a sharp pain ladders out to my extremities. I cry out, and he pauses. Sweat beads his forehead. His shoulder muscles bunch. Under my fingers, the muscles of his forearms vibrate. He’s holding himself back. His chest muscles seem to have turned into stone. The veins in his throat stand out, and the nerves at his temple pop. His jaw is so hard, I imagine he could cut a diamond with the edge. This big, strong, powerful man, who’s more wounded inside than anyone else I know, is trying not to hurt me.

Little does he know, he’s shattered every single wall I’ve tried to put up in front of him. I’m here knowing I won’t walk away unscathed. That I want him to leave his mark on me because it’s the one thing I can hold onto for the rest of my life. I know, I’ll never have him, but at least, I can savor these memories. I dig the heels of my stiletto into his back then push up. He sinks in further. A groan rumbles up his chest. I answer with a whine. Our bodies communicate with each other without words, and it’s so instinctive. So real. So everything. A tear crawls out of the corner of my eye.

He bends and licks it up. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not enough."

He freezes.

"Don’t hold back. I want you to show me how much you want me. I want you to need me as much as I have craved you. I need you to let me feel everything you’re experiencing. Open yourself up to me and let me see who you are."

If I thought he was rigid before, it’s nothing compared to how he goes completely still. He could be the trunk of a redwood, tall and strong and utterly grounded, despite the storm raging around it. Only his eyes are sharp and alert. There’s a wealth of unsaid meaning in their depths that I’m not sure I want to probe… Yet. Right now, I want to bask in being the focus of attention of this very virile male.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," he says in a low voice. "You don’t know who I am."

"You’re Sir. You’re Knight. You’re my best friend’s brother. The man who came back from war wounded. The man who gave up any semblance of living a normal life so others could sleep in peace at night. You’re you and I want all of you. Your pain. Your hurt. Your strength. Your charisma. Your personality. Your force of will. Give me all of it."

His lips firm. His jaw tics. He glares at me with such anger, such torment, my heart flips in my chest. He’s not happy. And I so very much want to do what he wants…but on this… This, I claim. On this, I will make him bend. He must sense some of my thoughts, for his gaze narrows. He lowers his chin until his nose bumps mine.

"I’m not the hero you’re making me out to be. I’m not the leading man of your story. I’m a villain in disguise. Scratch the surface, and you’ll see I don’t care about anyone other than myself. It’s why I’m taking your virginity—" He pumps his hips forward with such force the entire bed jolts. The headboard slaps again the wall, and the windows shudder. "I’m not the kind of person you want to get to know better. I’m not the man you want to introduce to your mother." He pulls out, then digs his knees into the mattress and pumps into me again. This time he slides in further.

His dick pulses inside me, and I swear, I can feel every ridge, every vein, throbbing against my inner walls. He seems to expand inside me, filling my channel, pushing against the constraints of my pussy, stretching me around him, so I all can do is lay there and gasp as he pins me to the mattress with his cock. "Sir, please," I gasp.

"You asked to see me, baby. Now, you’re going to get all of me."

He drills into me further and my thigh muscles quiver. My scalp tingles. I swear, I can feel him in my throat. "Enough," I gasp. "I can’t take more."

"I’m only halfway in, Little Dove."

"What? No." I chuckle, and the sound comes out broken. "You’re joking."

In reply, he pulls out and slams into me with such force, I huff. I try to wriggle away, but he leans some of his weight on me. I pant and sweat pools under my armpits. "If you’re trying to scare me, you’re—" I cry out, as he pulls out and pistons his hips forward and plunges into me. His balls hit the curve of my butt cheeks, his cock brushes up against a secret spot inside that unfurls sensations I never imagined I could feel. My nerve-endings crackle. And I climax.

The orgasm crashes over me. I open my mouth to scream, but he closes his mouth over mine and swallows the sound. Then, he thrusts his tongue over mine, and begins to fuck me in earnest. The aftershocks course through me, and with each wave, he slams into me, over and over and over again. He balances himself on one arm and slides his big palm under my butt cheek. He squeezes down, then stuffs his thumb inside my forbidden hole, and the trembling gathers again at the base of my spine.