The Billionaire’s Unexpected Wife

by Ali Parker

  I ran my hands down his chest as I pulled back and caught my breath. I needed to feel him inside of me, but I didn’t know how to tell him.

  “I’ve wanted this since the moment we moved in together,” he breathed in my ear, and he hooked his fingers around my panties and began to inch them down my hips. He knelt as he pulled them off, catching my right foot in his hand and planting kisses along the top. My legs were shaking, my hands reaching for him, and he seemed to read my mind.

  “You look so good like this,” he murmured as he pushed my thighs apart, sliding his hand beneath my ass and drawing me close. He let his mouth graze ever-so-lightly across the inside of my thigh, and my pussy ached for some kind of relief.

  “Oh my god,” I gasped, tipping my head back and silently pleading with him to give me what I needed. He hovered his mouth over me for a moment, letting the warmth of his breath torment me for a moment, and then he moved in and took my clit between his lips, and my brain lost any hope of rational thought.

  He sealed his mouth around me and sucked lightly, stroking his tongue back and forth across my clit and sending waves of pleasure out across my body. I moaned hopelessly and leaned back on the counter, planting my hands behind me, hoping they would be enough to keep me upright. Fuck, how could this feel so good? How had I waited this long to do this? He flattened his tongue and moved in slow strokes over my clit, from top to bottom, as though determined to taste as much of me as he could. He purred against me, the vibrations pulsing through my body, and I gripped his hair and began to rock my hips back against him.

  “You taste so good,” he breathed, pulling back for a split second before burying his face back into me. I tipped my head back and cried out, the words I needed to express how I was feeling collapsing to syllables and sounds. I needed this, I needed it, the cresting pleasure pushing and growing and cresting and—

  He pulled back suddenly, leaving me gasping for air, and reached into the pocket of his discarded pants to pull out a condom. My mouth was still opening and closing, trying to find the words to tell him how much I needed this, him, all of it.

  “I want to feel you come,” he explained as he sheathed himself, and then he caught me and pulled me close. He moved between my legs, taking his cock in his hand and pressing himself against my slit. I groaned as he slowly eased himself inside of me, and the two of us held dead still for a moment as soon as he was all the way buried in my pussy.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed, the world seeming to hold its breath around us as it waited for us to start moving again. His head was bent, pressed into my shoulder, and I could feel his breath pooling on my collarbone, warm against the cool air of the night around us.

  “You feel amazing,” he groaned into my ear, and I hooked my legs behind him to draw him in as deeply as I could. He began to thrust into me, shallowly at first, but soon he built up a pace and before I knew it he was fucking me hard and deep, burying himself inside me with every thrust. I clutched to him for dear life like he was the only thing keeping me on this planet.

  “You’re so tight, Amaya,” he murmured, and the sound of my name on his lips was like an enchantment, pushing me closer to the edge. My body was burning with pleasure, the pressure between my legs growing to almost agonizing heights, and my entire soul ached for him, for this. His fingertips sank deep into my hips, holding me steady, and I remembered the bruises he had left on me the first time around. This was how it had happened, when he was holding me so tight I could hardly breathe, I knew it. And like a muscle memory, I felt myself grow and burst around him.

  “Ah!” I cried out, the sound shattering the still air around the apartment. My pussy clenched around his cock, and he held himself deep inside me, letting the orgasm swell and burst across my body. I buried my head in his shoulder, letting my lips trail across his neck, tasting him, filling myself full of him, letting my senses get overwhelmed with every part of him I could find. The pleasure came in waves, growing until my entire body was shaking in his arms. He thrust into me a couple of times more, and soon enough, I felt him bottom out within me as well, his body giving in the way mine just had. When he came, he didn’t move for a while, as though he wanted nothing more than for this moment to stretch out in front of us forever.

  Eventually, he pulled himself out of me with some reluctance, quickly disposing of the condom while I sat there on the counter feeling like the entire world had just shifted out underneath me in a way I could never come back from.

  He planted a line of kisses from my shoulder to my neck and then came to pause at my mouth once more, an almost tender connection given what we had just done. He pulled back and smiled, somewhat cocky, as he ran his hands over my waist.

  “That was good,” he murmured.

  “That was an understatement,” I finally managed in response, my voice still shaking heavily. He had set off tremors through my whole body, the aftershocks of the pleasure rushing through me and rendering me a little stupid.

  “I’d like to know what got you so mad when you walked in here,” he cocked his head at me and grinned. “Maybe see if I can get you that pissed off again in the future.”

  “Oh, trust me, you won’t need to get me mad to convince me to do that again,” I promised him, and I reached for my beer. He grabbed his, and we both took a sip and then giggled at the ridiculous decadence of what we were doing.

  “You want some pizza?” He nodded to the box behind me. “I worked up quite an appetite.”

  “Me too,” I agreed, and I went to grab a slice. I snuck a look at him as I did so and wondered once again what the hell I had done to earn myself a shot with a man like this.

  21

  I drummed my fingers on the table and watched the door. It couldn’t be too long till she got home, and I had quite the evening planned as soon as she did.

  If she would actually look me in the eye, that was. She had barely met my gaze since that fuck-session we’d shared on the counter a few days before, and all I wanted was to go for another round. I had considered pissing her off again to see if she had to take her anger out on me all over again, but I figured the last thing I needed was to give her more reasons to stay away from me. Not when I needed her more than ever.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her—well, specifically, the two of us together—since we had hooked up again. This time, I could remember every single detail and reveled in the parts that most rewarded a redo, the noises she had made as she came, the feel of her pussy clenching helplessly around my cock as she came, the way her body trembled when she was close. I wanted to reenact all of it. I wanted more memories with her. I wanted everything.

  But she had been avoiding me like it was her full-time job, and there wasn’t much I could do about that until she warmed up to me again. What was bothering me most was the idea that she regretted what had happened between us. It had been so damn good for me, and I could have sworn she felt the same way. Yet, she had been acting as though it was the worst thing she’d ever done, which made me wonder why. Hadn’t we waited long enough? Didn’t she know me by now? Weren’t we husband and wife, just doing whatever any normal married couple would do?

  I had everything laid out for a nice evening for the two of us as soon as she got home from work, a movie, some ice cream, and I’d cooked a simple pasta dish for the two of us, hoping she might appreciate the effort. I wanted to show her, more than anything, that I was husband material, more than just some playboy who used her as best he could when the chance arose.

  There was a knock on the door, and I went to open it at once. She must have just left her keys at work or maybe she was in a rush when she was leaving. A rush home to see me, perhaps. I was smiling when I pulled the door open, but when I saw who was standing there, I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Cleo,” I greeted my sister, and she planted her hands on her hips and stared at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked, and she brushed past me and into the apartment.

  “So, where
are you hiding her?” she demanded, peering around as Amaya might be in camouflage, blended into the walls somewhere.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I shot back, slamming the door behind her in annoyance. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I’m here because I want to get to know my sister-in-law, and you seem determined to keep that from happening.” She threw her hands in the air as though it should have been obvious.

  “Okay, well, you can understand where I’m coming from,” I protested. “I don’t think any husband would exactly want you and your friends around their wife.”

  “Oh, so now I’m a bad influence, am I?” She turned on me, and I realized at once that I’d said the wrong thing. I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand over my face. Damn, all this shit with Amaya was turning me into an idiot of the highest order.

  “It’s not like that,” I corrected myself as patiently as I could. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I just meant—”

  “You just meant that no man would want their wife around me because I’m such an unmarriageable wreck,” she finished up for me. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me, in full-on little sister mode, petulant and pissed, except this time she had pretty good reason to be.

  “I’m sorry,” I tried to soothe her. “But all of this is a lot for Amaya to take in, and she needs some time to get used to it, so I don’t want to drop her in the deep end with everybody, all right? I want to give her some time to settle in, that’s all. It’s not about you.”

  “Okay, so how long do I need to wait before you’ll let me at her?” she wondered aloud, softening slightly. “She’s your wife, Kristo. I want to be friends with her. I want her to know that the family wants her.”

  “She does,” I promised her. “Dad met her, and he was actually really sweet.”

  “Oh, so now you think Dad’s better off meeting her than I am?” She raised her voice once more. “That’s bullshit.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I was saying at all,” I groaned. “You know what he’s like. If I’d tried to keep it from him any longer he would have—”

  “He would have turned up at your apartment just like I am,” she finished up for me. “Guess we’ve got that in common.”

  “Please, I can’t deal with this tonight,” I pleaded with her. “I just need a little time. Amaya and I are dealing with some shit, and I don’t want to have to handle you on top of it.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, and I could tell some part of her wanted to kick up even more of a fuss, but she was still my sister. She still wanted the best for me, and I was relieved to see her softening slightly.

  “You guys going to be all right?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “I think we will, yeah,” I replied, my mind flashing back to the contract. Even if we couldn’t figure things out personally between us, I still had that to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’ll give you your space,” she agreed. “But I want you to know I’m coming back. And I’m not going to take no for an answer. I want to get to know my new family, okay?”

  “Okay,” I promised her, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. “I’ll call you soon, all right? When we’re doing better with everything.”

  “You better,” she warned me. “I don’t want your new wife to think I’m a bitch.”

  “I’ll tell her you stopped by today,” I offered her. “She doesn’t think you’re a bitch, trust me. She probably appreciates that you’re giving her the space.”

  “I hope you two figure things out soon.” She squeezed my arm, slipping back into the kindly sister role she had played so many times with me. “You two need anything, you just let me know, all right?”

  “I will, Cleo,” I replied.

  “You’re just saying that to get rid of me,” she shot back, and even though I knew she was playing around, there was an edge to her voice.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I tried once more, and she rolled her eyes and made for the door. Even trying to be kind and compassionate, she still had that hard edge to her, that no-bullshit approach.

  “Bye.” She slammed the door behind her, and I pressed it locked shut and leaned against it. Damn, thank God she had been out of here before Amaya got back. Last thing I needed was my sister poking her nose around the two of us, figuring out something was wrong. I didn’t know how Amaya would respond to that kind of pressure. What if she had blurted out about the contract? I would never live it down. My family would tear me apart for it.

  Fuck, where was Amaya? She was supposed to be back by now, and I had arrived home early from the office to make sure everything was in place for her. I even had the screen set up in the spare bedroom, a movie picked out—something scary, like last time so the two of us could snuggle up and hold each other close like we had done at the movies. Maybe a little more. I wanted to be with her again, physically and emotionally, and this was the only way I knew how, by retracing our steps, the ones we had taken together that had led us this far.

  Finally, I heard her familiar footsteps on the stairs and went to pull the door open for her as she got home.

  “Hey.” I grinned as I laid eyes on her for the first time that day. She had slipped into the shower early and then out the door before I had gotten up. I’d thought she had been avoiding me, but she must have just had something early to take care of at work. I wanted to greet her with a kiss, but that could wait till later. When I had her in the mood.

  “Hi.” She brushed past me, her face pale.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, frowning. This wasn’t how I expected this to go.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” She waved her hand. “I just need to get some rest. I don’t feel well.”

  “I have some ice cream and a movie waiting for us, if you want,” I suggested with a smile, but she shook her head, mouth set into a hard line. Fuck me, what was with the women in this house today? It seemed I couldn’t do anything right for them.

  “No, I just want to be by myself,” she shot back firmly. I felt another flicker of annoyance move through me, even though I knew that she couldn’t possibly realize that my sister had turned up to piss me all the way off earlier in the day. That wasn’t her fault.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you feeling well?” I asked, following her to her room. She paused in the door and sighed heavily, her back to me, shoulders rising and falling dramatically as she did so.

  “Look, I just don’t feel well,” she snapped back. “My stomach doesn’t feel so good. I just need to lie down. It’s been a long day.”

  “You want me to get you some water and crackers or something?” I suggested, and she shook her head. She finally shot a look in my direction. If I didn’t know better, I would have said it was pity in her eyes like she felt sorry for me that I was having a hard time taking in what she was trying to get across to me.

  “I just want to be left alone,” she finally replied, sounding defeated. My heart sank, but instead of just walking away like I knew I should, I found myself bristling with anger at the way she was speaking to me.

  “Right, fine,” I shot back angrily. “I’ll just leave you by yourself, then, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” she fired in my direction. “Thank you.”

  She kicked the door shut behind her, right into my face, and I stood there fuming for a good few seconds before I turned and walked away. I couldn’t believe this. First my sister and now Amaya? What had I done to piss off the women in my life so much?

  I sat down on the couch, and I looked over at the door, remembering that silly argument we’d had the week before that had ended when she’d started hanging my art up all over the place. I willed her silently to come out and do the same thing, to bring some of that peace back to this place, but she stayed in her room, the door resolutely shut behind her. I couldn’t even hear her moving around in there. Maybe she was feeling ill, but I had a feeling it was something more than that. The way she
had stormed past me as though I had personally done something to piss her off—had I pulled something without even knowing it?

  I turned back to face forward on the couch and sighed heavily. I wasn’t going to let this bother me. If she didn’t want to spend time with me, if she wanted to pretend she hadn’t seduced me right here in this living room just a few days before, then so be it. She could play it that way. But she couldn’t strip away the memories I finally had of my body against hers, of me inside her while she had clung on to me for dear life, and for now, those memories were way better than what she was pulling.

  Fuck it. I was going to go out. No point hanging out here waiting for her to come around if she wasn’t going to treat me like an adult and actually tell me what the hell was going on. Without further ado, I got to my feet and headed to the bedroom I’d been using, pulling out some clothes and preparing to hit the town. Just because I was married didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun, right?

  22

  I lay face down on the bed and listened to him moving around beyond the door. I felt as though I could cry or scream or both, but I knew none of that was going to help me. I needed to talk to him. That was the only thing I could practically do that was going to help even a little bit, but I just couldn’t face the thought of having to tell him the truth about the way I’d been feeling.

  It had all started after we’d had sex again. Well, for the first time, as far as my memory was concerned, but still it had been incredible, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for a second since. The way he felt against me, inside me, the way he kissed me like he owned me and wanted me to know it. Everything about him, about being with him in that way, it was burned onto my memory and finally filled in the gaps of why I had done this in the first place. If it had been anything like that, then there was no way I was going to say no. He was just—holy hell, he was just so damn good. I could remember every touch, every caress, every look, and I had been tormenting myself with those memories ever since.