Marry Me Again: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Nicole Snow

  She blushes. I move my hands on her faster, aggressively, pushing her slick pussy down on my aching length.

  I can't believe this. It's incredible that she fucks like a virgin after all these years.

  Part of me feels touched, like I've been handed more than a second chance. It's a fresh opportunity to do everything I always wanted, but better because I've become a man.

  The other part is pissed.

  I hate the worm who's been laying in her bed for the past year and a half. It enrages me to know he left her wanting like this, grinding her hips in desperation as soon as she sinks down onto me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pursing her lips for another kiss.

  It's like she hasn't been fucked good in all five years. She's starving, and the maggot I roughed up is responsible.

  No more. She's never rolling out of bed unsatisfied again.

  My lips take hers. I give her everything. My hips crash into hers with twice the fury, running my public bone against her clit.

  Her head goes back, she moans, and everything gets hotter and wetter around my dick. I'm going to turn this woman into a permanent squirter. It's the least she deserves after being robbed of real sex, chained to a boy who never had the strength or heart to fuck her like a man.

  “I love you, Kara.” I whisper the words right before I take her nipple between my teeth.

  She whimpers, rocking into me faster, sweet and close to coming. It's not enough to pluck every nerve in her gorgeous body, even though that's what makes my cock howl for release.

  I want her heart. I want it back. I want it bound to me like we always promised, and I won't stop saying everything I've locked up for years.

  “Come, baby, come.” I grab her hair, fisting it in my palm. Then my hips pound hers, bringing her over, forcing her nails into my shoulders when she clenches them.

  Rolling her head back, she screams. “Ryan – fuck!”

  Her pussy squeezes my entire cock for what feels like forever. The heat in my balls becomes a second sun. We fuck like no tomorrow. Fucking to wipe away yesterday. She's barely coming down from the high when I'm snarling, quickening my speed, crashing into her so hard the bed beneath us rattles like sticks in the wind.

  “Good goddamn, you're tight, baby. Only pussy in the world that was ever made to fit me like a glove. You were mine for good the first night we fucked, baby girl. No years apart will ever change that.” I'm pulling on her hair faster, slowing my strokes until she looks at me, her green eyes flashing lust and need. “You knew I'd come back, didn't you?”

  She bites her lip. For a second, I'm worried I'm going to ruin the mood, but she moans when I drive myself deep into her again.

  “I knew,” she whispers. “I always believed, even when I wanted to quit. When you showed up, you saved me from the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “Guess it's your lucky day. I'm about to save you from the second biggest, too,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers, my free hand palming one breast as it pulses in my hand, her lungs trying to make up so much lost breath.

  “Not that.” She looks at me and my hips twitch, picking up speed again, until I see her eyelids flutter. “Jesus. I don't know if I can come again, Ryan. I –“

  Bullshit. I own her now. I always did, and I'll tell her when, where, and how many times to come.

  My lips meet hers, more of a love bite than a true kiss. “You're dead wrong. I won't stop taking your sweet cunt until you give it up to me one more time. You're mine, Kara-bou. Morning, noon, and night. You were mine yesterday, and you'll be mine tomorrow, sharing every last, best part of me. When I tell you to come in and see my soul, you do it. When I tell you to just come, you're going to fucking do it. Come for me, beautiful. Come like you always wanted every night you were with him, hoping it was me. We're not leaving this bed unless it's broke.”

  I'm thrusting like a madman now. She bounces every time my dick plunges in to the hilt. My balls fly up, spanking her skin. There's no doubt she's heard me because her eyes are closed.

  She's soaking in every last word, every sensation as I take both her hands, hold them in mine, and power fuck through every doubt she's ever had.

  It doesn't take long for her pussy to tighten on my dick. The feverish sound slipping out through her teeth when she comes again gives me a rush. I fuck harder, ready to go over the edge with her.

  There's a spring of fire coiling up in my balls, running up my spine, igniting my brain. When it hits the base of my dick, everything I've felt for this woman wells up in half a second, and then it ruptures.

  I'm coming.

  Snarling, grunting, growling like an animal who's taken control of its mate. I'm not afraid to admit that's what I've become, and I'm not letting her go, no matter how much this town wants to skin me alive when they find out who I am and what I've done.

  My seed pours out in hot, dense ropes. Her mouth falls open, but she's too overwhelmed with my heat to even scream, breathlessly caught in her pleasure.

  My beautiful, beloved captive. The only one I've ever wanted and ever will want for the rest of my days, and at least half of those days are going to be filled with her convulsing all over my cock, both of us crying out when my seed fills her belly again.

  One day soon, my load is giving her a kid. It won't be the last one I put in her either. I'm not stopping until we've got everything we always wanted. The love, the ring, the family.

  All of it.

  Desire runs hot, especially when I think about her soft belly swelling with our child, her pert breasts turning full and dark.

  I can't stop fucking her now. My body moves like a machine, programmed to fuck and nothing else.

  I'm not exaggerating. I've just come my brains out, and I'm still hard for her.

  My orgasm only weakens when I start thrusting again, ready to see if I can bring her off a third time in the same half hour.

  I'll carry her onto my private jet if I have to. Spent, satisfied, and wearing a just fucked smile on her lips.

  We never get that far though. Several more furious strokes in, something gives way when she crashes down on me, engulfing my cock.

  There's a loud snap! Next thing I know, we're flat on the floor. The mattress bangs the designer rug underneath the bed like a bowling ball dropping on the Brazilian cherrywood.

  I'm still buried in her when she starts laughing. It takes me a several seconds to shake off the surprise, and then I'm grinning like a fool, chuckling alongside her.

  “See that? When I told you we'd break this bed, I wasn't kidding.”

  “You're insane!” she says, scolding me with a finger tapping on the lightning bolts tattooed on my chest. “He's going to kill me when he sees this, you know. We'll both catch hell for it. This rug belonged to his rich parents. They gave it to us as a housewarming present.”

  “Fuck the Draytons,” I tell her. Honestly, truthfully, carelessly perhaps, I'm done holding anything back. “He deserves a lot worse for what he did to you. Whenever he gets home, he's going to find all your stuff gone, and every sheet left on this fucked up bed stained with us.”

  “You're really evil,” she says, but the smile on her face tells me there's no warmth left in her heart for the cheating bastard who nearly screwed her in all the worst ways. “Luckily, I kind of like it.”

  “Kind of?” I say, cupping her face in my hand, bringing it in for another kiss. “Kara-bou, you've got my whole heart, the dark and the light. Let me see everything in yours. We've got time before the jet takes off.”

  She smiles. “That's what? A couple more hours?”

  “Yeah, and I'm still hard.”

  I roll her over, planting her hands above her head as she bends over, taking her ass in both of my hands. I mount her from behind and take her pussy to heaven once again.

  She comes a few more times, and so do I, before we hit the shower together.

  When I come upstairs, bringing a thermos of coffee like she asked, she's in a robe. Her face is turned to the windo
w, and she's sitting on the chaise next to the fallen mattress, the sheets still tangled and torn in a few places from our savage loving.

  “You ready?” I ask, handing her the coffee, about to head to the opposite corner where I dropped my clothes last night. “I told my assistant to get some movers out here tomorrow. Just need to drop the keys at the office when we're on our way to the airport, and they'll take care of everything. Should have your stuff in storage this time tomorrow, until we decide where it goes next.”

  “I can't go with you,” she says, folding her arms. “Not unless you're ready to tell me the truth about what happened. I need to know why you left, and why you killed a man, assuming that's what really happened.”

  My heart relaxes for half a second before it starts banging my ribs like mad. I'd been ready to give her the full truth the other night, before her brother interrupted us, but now I'm taken aback.

  “It's a long story,” I say, moving to the chair across from her, wondering where the hell I should begin. Not that there's ever a good starting point with something this twisted. “I can give you the abbreviated version. Plane leaves in less than an hour.”

  “I don't care what version you give me, as long as it's the truth. I need to know why, Ryan. Believe me, I want to go. I want to trust you. I want to rebuild what we had before. But we can't do any of that as long as it's hanging over us” She folds her hands, leans forward, and looks me in the eyes. “Please. Just tell me why you ran.”

  “Okay.” Now, I know what a man under an interrogation feels like, and the stakes are just as high here.

  What if the story I'm about to tell her frightens her to death?

  What if she won't go? Won't look at me after she knows?

  What if she can't forgive the blood on my hands, or the lies?

  “I'm waiting,” she insists, unclasping her hands. They come out, reaching for mine, and I look into her eyes.

  No, fuck, I can't lie to her again. I won't run away a second time when I'm one step away from having her back in my life.

  “You can't hate anyone who's already dead,” I say. “That's the only thing I want you remembering before I tell you the rest.”

  She blinks, confusion clouding her eyes. I don't say anything until she nods, agreeing to my terms. Then I launch into the cruelest night of my life, the one that fucked up everything.

  Five Years Ago

  You know about Nelson Drayton. How I buffed out the scratches on his car, made his baby just like new again, all while the dinosaur with the lifelong silver spoon in his mouth expected miracles without any time to work them.

  He asked me to clean up the interior after I'd finished the main job. I was happy to do it quick and clean, just to get him the hell out of there.

  I'm on my hands and knees, jabbing the vacuum in hard to reach places. There's a lot of ash everywhere, like the pig spills it all over his car, carelessly flinging ash from his cigars everywhere. If I miss a speck, I'm sure I'll catch hell, so I do several sweeps.

  There's something in the way underneath his driver's seat when I reach down. I have to turn off the vacuum and pull with both hands just to move it.

  It's a thick black leather folio, bloated with so much material stuffed inside it's barely held together by the metal clasp.

  If only I'd been more careful pulling it out, I'd have saved everyone so much grief.

  Didn't work that way. My hand catches against the steering wheel when I lift it up, banging the leather binder so hard it comes apart. A hundred papers go flying out.

  “Shit!” I swear, hit the ground, and begin reaching for the material strewn everywhere, escaping underneath his car.

  Halfway through gathering it up, I get a good look at what's on those pages. My brain freezes, realizing what I'm seeing.

  Maybe a third of the mess are ordinary papers, lists of names and numbers. The rest, the other two thirds...

  They're pictures. Violent, sadistic, unspeakable photographs burned forever in my head. And the poor women in them, the girls, they're all too young.

  I swear I recognize a couple faces from the orphanage. The place was tied to his charity, which he used to bring me to a foster home in Split Harbor. Apparently, I wasn't the only one he freed, but nobody's seen the girls since.

  Certainly not around town.

  While I left hell, got on my feet, and found a life here, they've been God knows where, serving this animal and the other brutes in his hideous photos.

  My first instinct is to vomit. The second is to race for the phone, call Bart, and ask for advice because I don't know what the hell to do.

  I can't just call the cops on a Drayton. Nelson has everyone in this town in his back pocket, and its his word against mine.

  These sick, gruesome pictures are the only evidence I have that this man – this fucking monster – isn't the paragon of respect and charity everyone believes him to be.

  There's no other explanation. It's him the photographs, leering at the girls. A decent man wouldn't be caught dead with what I've got tucked under my shaking arm.

  I have to get out of here. Need to bring it to someone, anyone who knows what to do with it. There's got to be some way to get Nelson Drayton, bring him to trial, and lock this vampire away where he'll never hurt anyone again.

  I'm pacing, trying not to let the panic win. I can't freeze up, damn it.

  Absent-mindedly, I crinkle up one page with names and numbers – probably other criminals involved in bringing him fresh victims – and stuff it in my pocket.

  There's no time to spare.

  I'm heading for the office, wracking my brain for options, when the asshole himself walks through the back door. He stops near the wall, stubbing his cigar out. He doesn't see me at first.

  Too bad I have to walk by him to get where I'm going. I try to make it, but he hears my footsteps, whips his head around, and stares at me like a wolf.

  “You done yet, kid?” he asks, taking a full second to notice the mess tucked under my arm. Then his old, evil eyes go wide. They darken, black holes full of fury, desperate to swallow me up. “Christ. That doesn't belong to you.”

  No shit. He's coming toward me, and he's pissed.

  I've been in bad places before in foster homes and orphanages, thrown in with unsavory characters from every corner of the Midwest. This is the first time my heart leaps in my throat, and beats so hard I freeze.

  He's almost got his hands on me when I start backing up. I hit the corner and I look around, shaking because there's nowhere else to run. Nelson stops in front of me, quietly seething.

  He's still trying to keep his composure. It's like watching a wild animal wearing a person's mask, the illusion hanging by a thread.

  “That isn't yours, boy. You took it from my car. Need you to give it back.” His voice is like ice. “Give it the fuck back to me. Now.”

  “No,” I tell him, standing up taller and straighter than I ever have in my life. Maybe if I can scare him, he'll back off, retreat, buy me some precious time. “You're not getting it again. I saw what's in here, Mr. Drayton...the girls...torture. You're seriously asking me to give it back, look the other way, pretend I never saw it?”

  “That's what I'm telling you to do, you stupid little shit.” Anger curls his lips into a wretched smile. He cocks his head, the blackness in his eyes deepening. “What do you think you're going to do with it, anyway? Run to the police? The FBI? I swear to God, I'll pay them whatever it takes to let me off the hook. I'll burn my treasures in front of their eyes. You've got a lot to learn about how this world works, kid, but let me give you a primer. I'm on top. You aren't. I can get away with shit that'll curdle your stomach. Don't make this a fight, or you'll find out what kind of damage money and a name can do.”

  I don't say anything. I look him in his wicked, beady eyes, clutching the leather folio tighter, my eyes scanning everything around us.

  There's Mickey's tall, messy toolbox, just a few feet away. All sorts of blunt objects laying out on
top of it, right above the Playboy bunny sticker he's got slapped on the side.

  “I don't want to fight you,” I tell him. My voice crinkles in my throat, harsh and dry as autumn leaves. “But I can't give this up, Mr. Drayton. I won't.”

  “I'm not asking your permission, fuckwipe,” he growls, two vicious fists forming his sides. “It seems you're confused. Let me help you out. You want to give me my property, go home, and pretend we never had this conversation. Only chance I'm going to give. Go ahead and stick your nose where it doesn't belong, I'll damned sure bite it off, boy. I'll burn you to the ground, and that'll just be the start.”

  He pauses, doing a slow turn, looking around the garage before he's facing me again. “I can, and I will, make everything go up in a puff of smoke. I'll close Bart's Auto. Ruin this place with liens and lawsuits so fast your stupid, righteous head will spin. Believe me, I'll make sure that you and everybody who ever worked here are done in this town, and their friends and families are done, and you're packed away in a state pen doing time for threatening an old man before your young life's gotten off the goddamned launch pad.”

  “No. No,” I say it again, instinct taking over, ready to fight and kill if I need to just to put this disgusting bastard away. “You don't scare me.”

  “No?” His feet are moving again, heading toward me, closing the narrow gap between us. “Then you're much stupider and selfish than you look. I'm not asking again. Give me my book!”

  He lunges. I have just enough time to whirl out away, race to Mickey's toolbox, and grab the first thing I see.

  Nelson charges me, hits me in the spine, and knocks me on the ground before I can turn around. His strength shocks me for a man his age, but the asshole's fighting for his life.

  He knows how fucked he is if I get this out. We both do.

  His weathered hands go around my throat and squeeze.

  There's no second guessing this. No time to find a legal, just way out that doesn't involve someone getting hurt. The look in his eyes tell me he's serious. He's going to kill me if I don't stop him in the next ten seconds.