The Billionaire's Redemption (The Billionaire's Kiss, Book Five): (A Billionaire Alpha Romance) (18 page)

But I want more than to be comforted.

I move my hand to his boxers and touch the tip of my finger to his cock… then slowly trace my way down the length of his shaft.

The reaction is immediate.

His cock swells even faster, pressing insistently against my touch with a few massive throbs.

He breathes in loudly enough for me to hear. Not quite a gasp, but definitely close.

He moves my hair aside from my shoulders and begins to kiss my neck. I lean my head to one side to give him whatever he wants.

At the same time, my finger slips underneath the edge of his boxers to find his cock. It’s so long by now, I don’t have to go far.

I touch the softness of his head, feeling the round, satiny curve… then I drop down beneath and find the little ridge of skin beneath the crown and start stroking it very, very lightly. Just a whisper of a touch.

His cock strains against the cloth, completely hard.

He groans and bites my neck lightly, nibbling my skin.

His hand finds my right bra strap, slips it off, and pulls down the cup to expose my breast. He begins to stroke my nipple, circling it, as he licks and kisses his way up and down my neck.

My head is thrown back, my whole body awash in sensual pleasure. With my eyes closed, the only thing I have to guide me is my sense of touch, and I use it for all it’s worth.

I push back the cloth of the boxers’ leg to expose half of his cock. Since it’s pressed against his leg by his underwear, I can’t encircle it with my hand, but I use the tips of my fingers to stroke him.

My other hand, meanwhile, travels to his body, where I feel his warmth, the soft hairs on his chest, the clearly defined muscles that bulge beneath his skin.

He is becoming more insistent, more turned on. He unfastens my bra and lowers his head to my left breast, greedily sucking on the already erect nipple. I gasp and shiver, but I don’t lose contact with his cock. It burns beneath my fingers, the temperature of blood and passion. As I caress his tip, I feel the wet drop of pre-cum beading there, and I spread it all over his crown, using it to slick him down and pleasure him even more with my touch.

He leans me back on the bed, and suddenly
all
the springs are creaking beneath us.

We look at each other in surprise, then laugh.

“This is going to be noisy,” he says.

I lock my wet fingers around the head of his cock and massage him slowly. “I don’t care,” I whisper.

He gets that look on his face – like he’s in physical pain, but it feels
sooooo
good. He backs away to give himself some room, hooks his fingers through the top of my panties, and pulls them down my thighs. I help him by raising my legs in the air, and he takes the opportunity to run his fingers over the mound of my sex.

Ohhhh…

I am
so
fucking wet.

The springs creak as he gets off the bed and peels off his boxers. I pretty much put him in a Chinese finger-puzzle by pushing the leg of his boxers up so far, and it takes him a second to extricate his fully hard erection. When he finishes, he stands there completely naked, his cock straining upwards toward the ceiling.

He climbs back onto the bed on his knees, the metal bedframe groaning. It’s loud.

“You sure?” he grins.

I take his cock in my hand and pull him insistently towards me. “I’m sure.”

He gets that look of pain and pleasure again as I guide him between my legs, then inside me.

Oh JESUS.

Suddenly I’m the one caught between pleasure and the tiniest bit of pain.

His crown is already slick with pre-cum, and I’m soaking, so he just eases inside, quick as you please. He takes a quarter thrust to wet his skin with my juices, then a half-stroke, then three-quarters.

I groan and feel my body greedily envelop him, my pussy caressing every inch of him. He sinks into me all the way until our bodies press against each other.

He puts all his weight on me and grasps my hair in his fingers, and looks deep in my eyes as he begins to slowly pull out… then slide back in… ease back out… then push back in. I grab his ass with my hands and feel his pelvis rocking back and forth, slowly driving that gorgeous cock deep inside me.

I stay locked on his eyes as much as I can – except when he gives a quick, surprise thrust and hits that spot deep inside me, making my eyes roll back in my head with pleasure. Every time, I come back to reality, kiss him, and look him in the eyes again – until another perfect stroke makes me cry out and dig my fingers into his flesh.

I’m so wet it’s unreal. I feel like I must be soaking the bed beneath me. It’s a good thing, though – he feels bigger than I’ve ever felt him before, and I need every bit of help as he fills me up, over and over, with every stroke.

After a few minutes he pulls out. I don’t understand why until he flips me over on my hands and knees, the bed creaking beneath me – and then slides back inside me, doggy-style. I cry out unexpectedly as his swollen head caresses new spots inside me.

He reaches one arm under me and cradles my left breast in his massive hand, letting the motion of our fucking cause it to brush against his palm, my hard nipple tracing a path across his skin.

He takes a couple of minutes to give me easy, slow strokes, making sure I can take him. Then he begins to increase his speed and the depth of his thrusts. The head of his cock is hitting
deep
inside me now, and every stroke makes me cry out with ecstasy and the tiniest bit of pain – a throbbing, deeply satisfying ache that only adds to the bliss, that only highlights how fucking heavenly the rest of it feels.

I’m screaming out with every thrust, his pelvis smacking into my ass, when I come the first time. An overwhelming wave of pleasure slams through my body and makes me lose all control. My arms collapse and I fall facedown onto the mattress and just try to
survive
the overpowering sensations flooding through my body.

He slows down, letting his thrusts become shallower, as my cries gradually die out. Then he pulls out of me again.

“You don’t have to stop,” I whimper, and then I realize he has no intentions of that as he lies down on his back and pulls me on top of him.

I straddle him with my quivering legs and raise myself as high as I can while he guides his wet, throbbing member to my lips. Once he feels himself enter me, he gently presses down on my shoulder with one hand, and I
siiiink
down on his shaft with another groan of pleasure.

I take my time and slowly grind my hips, getting used to the feeling of having complete control over something that big and thick inside me. Then I begin to move up and down slightly. A few inches at first, then a couple more. I keep increasing the distance I go up and then down on his cock, until I’m as far as I can go at the top. He’s still inside me, with no danger of his head slipping out. Then I slam back down, taking him deep inside me with a cry of pleasure.

I start working him
good
, bobbing up and down, taking his full length inside me again and again and again. He’s
loving
it. His eyes are wide, his body is tensed from head to foot, his hands are grabbing my breasts. Deep grunts emanate from his throat every time I slide all the way down on his shaft and smack into his pelvis.

Then he gets a look on his face like he’s losing control, or about to. He lifts his ass in the air and starts thrusting into me. I’m so overcome with pleasure that all I can do is stop and feel him inside me, my eyes closed in ecstasy as my mouth opens wide in a series of wails. He pulls me down roughly against his chest, my breasts against his pecs, and kisses me hard. He thrusts over and over inside me, his hand clutching my ass, his muscular legs pressed between mine as his cock surges thicker and harder and deeper –

“OH FUCK!” he bellows, and I can feel him coming inside me.

The sensation pushes me over the edge. Suddenly my body is out of my control again as pleasure lights up every nerve. I’m screaming, he’s groaning. We buck back and forth, struggling to squeeze every drop of pleasure out of the moment, until his contractions slow and mine become a gently undulating wave instead of mountainous peaks of bliss. I collapse on top of his chest, my legs weak and quivering. He holds me and we kiss as the last lingering spasms of his cock make me tremble inside and out.

We’re lying there in the blissful afterglow, snuggled against each other in the tiny single bed, laughing whenever our movements cause the springs to squeak, when a stray thought enters my head.

“It
is
kind of weird that you gambled everything – your career, your fortune – on what’s basically an illegal
hobby,
” I muse.

“Well, it makes me feel alive. Nothing else really does.”

Warning bells start going off.

“…nothing?” I ask, shocked.

He laughs. “Well, what
we
just did obviously does…”

“But nothing else?”

I guess he thinks I’m fishing for a compliment, because he tries to kiss me. “Nothing else until I met you.”

I straight-arm him and back up to the edge of the twin bed so I can look him in the eye.

Something tells me I need to see his eyes when I hear his answer.

“Hold on.
Nothing
makes you feel as alive as being a thief?”

He gets an irked look on his face. “Don’t use the word ‘thief.’”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s cheap.”

“Uhhh, and
accurate.
”

“No, it’s not. A thief is somebody who bashes out the windows in a pawn shop and steals a television. That’s not what I am.”

“No, you just sneak inside rich people’s houses all fancy-like and take the Monet, instead.”

“Fuck you,” he laughs. His tone is kind of joking… but kind of not.

“What are you, then, if you’re not a thief? Is the label ‘cat burglar’ so much better?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“How so?”

“Because a $10,000-an-hour escort is not a streetwalker.”

“Maybe not, but they’re both prostitutes.”

He sits up on one elbow. Now he’s scowling. “You have a lot of fucking nerve, you know that?”

I know that the moment is going south fast – I can see it slipping away – but I just can’t help myself. He called Dominique delusional, but
this
is what he believes about himself?

“Why,” I ask, “because I’m trying to get you to admit what you really are, without the romantic, rose-colored lenses you look through?”

“You’re just as bad as I am.”

Riiiiiight.
“In what way?”

“What you do is just as illegal as what I do.”

“I work in an internet security firm – ”

“And you hacked Interpol the other night. Remember that? Or how about the NYPD, when you got the police report?”

“Because I’m trying to save our lives, dumbass – remember
that?”

“See, that’s where
you
lie to yourself. Yeah, you’re doing it to save our lives – but that’s just an excuse for you. It’s a justification. Because you
love
it. Admit it. You’ve felt more alive over the last five days than you have over the last five years combined.”

Something about what he’s saying is intensely uncomfortable.

“I – no – I feel more alive because I fell in love with you,” I protest.

“You fell in love with me because you’re
like
me. You’re drawn to the dark side, just like I am. You want the thrill, the danger. You love it. You just won’t admit it.”

“I’m not addicted to it. You
are
. Your words, not mine – you and Dominique were like two addicts helping each other shoot up. Remember that?”

“You’re addicted, too. You’re just afraid.”

“Yeah – afraid of getting caught. I’ve seen somebody’s life get destroyed, Grant. Excuse me if I didn’t want to wind up in prison.”

“So instead of really living, instead of doing what makes you feel alive, you chose to work a 9-to-5 job for The Man. You chose stability and the 401k. You chose mediocrity.”

You DICK.

I sit up and full-on bare my teeth at him. “What, and you’re so fucking brilliant? You’re so fucking incredible? If you forgot, your criminal activities are what put us on the run.”

“No, a psychopath is what put us on the run.”

“Who you ran into because you like to play art thief!”

“And saved two women’s lives and stopped a serial killer’s rampage!” he snarls. “Remember that?”

I do.

It’s what I’d told Connor to get him to help us.

I shake my head. “You didn’t break in to save those women.”

“No, but I did the right thing when I found them. So don’t act like all this is happening because I’m some crackhead who breaks in and steals shit to feed his addiction.”

“Except you kind of are.”

“I told you, I was always going to give them back – ”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what the crackheads say, too. ‘I was just borrowing it, officer, I swear.’”

“Oh look, it’s Little Miss High and Mighty! You’re no fucking better. In fact, you’re worse.”

“How?!”

“You like it because you get a thrill out of seeing what you’re not supposed to see – of rooting around in somebody else’s dirty laundry. You’re the digital equivalent of a pervert who likes to break in and handle people’s underwear.”

Okay, that was kind of funny.

I laugh, even though I’m angry. “Fuck you – I broke into Interpol to save our
lives
.”

“I’m not talking about Interpol, I’m talking about when you were a teenager and you hacked the Defense Department.”

“Yeah, when I was a
teenager!
I’m not a teenager anymore, and neither are you! I was smart enough to quit – are you?! I mean, assuming you get out of this alive and somehow don’t get thrown in jail for life – are you going to quit?”

He stares at me coldly. “Why? What if I say no?”

“If you could walk away and not die or go to jail, you’d
still
endanger everything you have just to get your kicks?”