“We almost did lose each other because of the Club,” I tell him softly, “but it didn’t happen. We’re here together now, and that’s the only thing that’s important. And maybe the Club knows that.”
And it’s true. In the year since Grayson and I have been together, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I moved into his penthouse in Manhattan, and Gray made sure to move Nana and Mickey into an apartment nearby. I’m now pursuing a program in botany, and to my surprise, Gray proposed last month. We were married in a small ceremony at City Hall, with just Nana and Mickey as witnesses. But everything was perfect, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“No sweetheart,” he growls softly. “I don’t care what those douchebags get up to anymore. Everything I care about is in this apartment with me right here right now.” His face relaxes even as those sapphire eyes continue to burn.
“Is that right?” I tease him with a smile. At the back of my mind, a small knot of tension I didn’t realize I was holding loosens and floats away. Because I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. I was anxious that maybe, just maybe, he wanted back into the Club. And if he had, then I would have said yes.
But to my relief, Grayson wants nothing to do with them, and as the anxiety spills from my frame, I sway into his space, tucking my big tits into his chest and rubbing against him. “Does what you care about include food? You mentioned dinner earlier but I don’t see a thing in here,” is my teasing voice.
“Well, I didn’t say anything about us eating in the kitchen.” His sexy five o’clock shadow rubs my cheeks deliciously as he nuzzles my throat. Then he steps away with a smile and grabs three bottles of champagne from the fridge. He takes my hand and pulls me from the bright room.
Barefooted and happy, I follow him, practically floating along, attached to his fingers like a helium-filled balloon. God, I’m so ecstatic I could sing. I start to hum, and he laughs deep in his throat.
“Keep singing, little girl, because soon I’m gonna make you scream.”
I giggle, my cheeks flushing red. The apartment is huge, but eventually we end up in front of a door.
“But this isn’t our bedroom?” I say before Gray cuts me off with a finger to my lips.
“I think you forgot, but I didn’t,” he says, pushing the door open. “Enjoy sweetheart.”
My eyes grow round as an involuntary gasp escapes my lips. Because when I moved my stuff into this apartment, one of the first things Gray did to make me feel welcome was to give me a room of my own to use as a study. He told me that he already had his office—a masculine place with his massive mahogany desk, shelves of business books, and a thick leather couch and chair—so I deserved to have my own space, too.
My study only had a guest bed when I moved in. But soon, I replaced the boring double bed with a cozy convertible couch. There, I can curl up and watch the rain drip down the wide window glass, listen to music, or even do my homework.
But now, Gray’s added hundreds of plants. Floating shelves on nearly every wall hold vined plants, some with blossoms but most just green and vibrant. Thick and thriving topiaries as tall as my husband occupy the corners of the space. The room is green and glowing and smells like a rain forest, crisp and fresh. Plus, Grayson’s added hundreds of tiny, flickering tea lights, so that my indoor garden glows a magical garden lit by dozens of fireflies.
My heart beats happily, ready to thrum straight out of my chest.
He leans in to kiss my cheek, and then my neck. “Exactly a year ago, I woke from a nightmare and found you in my kitchen, ready to start our life together. I’m a lucky man, sweetheart. I almost lost you, but found you again in the nick of time. And you deserve beauty in your life, pretty girl. Only the most beautiful things for my beauty,” he says before closing the door behind us. The hinge shuts with a snap, and suddenly the space fills with a purposeful heaviness. Sensual. Perfect.
“Tonight, I celebrate you. I celebrate us,” he growls, and begins to take off his clothes.
Oh god. I’ve never gotten used to this, and I never will. Every time I see my husband’s powerful and muscular body, all of me clenches, tightens, and dampens with lust. His wide shoulders make my mouth water. The thick chest and muscled pecs that I’ve licked hundreds, if not thousands of times. That perfect six pack. And his cock. Oh god, so big and commanding, always.
As I watch, it rises and enlarges, filled with desire for me. And my pussy dampens desperately, eager to cushion its length. How the heck do I manage to take that giant horse cock in my small, swollen slit? Looking at it from this angle, it seems impossible. But he’s done it hundreds of times before, and he’ll do it again. Tonight, and hopefully soon.
I shift my thighs and sigh as honey slips from between my thickening pussy lips and drizzles down my dimpled thighs like icing. “Grayson, I’m so lucky to have you,” I breathe.
“I’m the lucky one, sweet girl.” He’s naked now, his blue eyes like lasers sizzling all over my body.
Because of the unusually warm fall we’re having in New York, the dress I’m wearing is pretty thin. My nipples pop out like rock candy through both my bra and the soft cotton of the dress. I stroke them, pinch them, all the while watching him.
Oh, they hurt so good...
“Get naked, sweetheart,” Grayson rasps. He uses that powerful voice and I rush to obey him, my hands shaking as I remove the dress. Finally, I’m nude, my lush form ready for his possession.
“Good girl,” he rasps. “Now, kneel. And close your eyes.”
Oh, yes.
I get down on my knees, nude and obedient. I squirm and rub my thighs together, subtly thrusting my hips against the air. I imagine him feeding me his cock, telling me to open my mouth so he can slide his massive man meat down my throat.
Oh, I love it when he does that. His salty, bitter flavor is one I could just live on for the rest of my life. The food of love.
The air shifts, and I feel him coming closer. I lick my lips in anticipation of his staff on my tongue, in my mouth, the taste of it so heavenly. Mmm. A sweet tingling begins in my twat and settles in my stomach. My mouth is watering, and my fingers curl in anticipation of closing around Grayson’s meaty cock.
Give it to me, baby, I think, my lips already parting slightly. I’m so ready for you. I want you. Give me—
A loud pop makes me jump.
“Keep your eyes closed!” Grayson warns as a cool liquid splashes all over my torso and down my breasts and hips.
I lick my lips slightly, catching a few droplets on my tongue. It’s champagne.
“Fuck, you look so good like that!” he rasps.
More champagne pours over me, gush after gush of fizzing, popping liquid splashing over my sensitive nipples, down my belly, and into my hot and wet snatch. Then another bottle pops and more champagne floods over me. I’m bathing in a fountain of five-thousand-dollar French bubbly. It turns me on as my slick body squirms a bit, a squeal escaping my lips.
“Now touch yourself, Trina,” he grunts. I hear how turned on he is, his voice so deep he can barely get the words out, and I love it. His desire makes my swollen pussy twitch in need. “Yank on your big nips, sweetheart, make them all red and stiff for me.”
Oh, I love it when he tells me what to do. My whole body sings and glows from the inside out.
“Like this, Grayson?” I ask him coyly, still keeping my eyes closed and rubbing my nipples through the endless waterfalls of champagne. “You want me to do this?” Moaning like a whore, I scrape my nails across my nipples then, suddenly inspired, grab both boobs and lift them towards my mouth. I lick my own nipple and taste the dry fizz of champagne on my hard, excited flesh.
Grayson turns me on so much. He’s transformed me into a wild and sexual creature. He’s taught me the dirty ways of a man and woman, and they make me go hot inside, my insides liquid and melty.
I suck my nipple deep into my mouth and groan from the unbearable pleasure. It feels so good, but I want his mouth on
me before he owns me with that massive horse cock.
“Grayson, please,” is my helpless mewl.
“Fuck, baby!” His voice is almost too deep for me to understand. “Yeah, suck it just like that,” Grayson growls. “You look fantastic sweetheart.” And with no warning, the man flips me onto my hands and knees, my sensuous form still dripping with champagne. In anticipation, I wiggle my bottom at him, teasing and tempting the big man. Oh, I love it when he takes me in my dark star, filling me so full.
Sure enough, that thick meat presses against my asshole, but at the same time, a coolness slips between my pussy lips. “What—?”
The champagne bottle! He’s fucking my pussy with the champagne bottle! “Unnh!” I cry out with shock, my spine stiffening involuntarily. “What in--?”
But it’s too late because Gray sinks balls deep into my ass while easing the neck of the champagne bottle as far as it can go into my pussy.
Oh my god, I’m experiencing double penetration in my asshole and cunt at once. Grayson’s hot meat is edged into my anus to the hilt while the cool glass of the bottle slides against my sweetest spot. Sparkles dance behind my tightly closed eyelids as both holes stretch, unaccustomed to the tight fit.
“You okay, sweet baby?” His hand settles on my hip. “Fuck, I can feel the bottle through your vag wall, you’re so small.”
The comment is so dirty that I lose all my inhibitions.
“God, yes! Fuck me, Grayson! Please, just fuck me!” I want more of him. His penis pushes into me hard and all I want is more like a whorish slut. “Unnnh, yes!”
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts. “Let your ass feel it, little butt slut. Come all over my dick with this bottle in your puss and my cock in your asshole.”
And that does it. The dirty words throw me over the edge, and I shatter into a million pieces with my husband’s name on my lips.
“Unnnnh! Graysooooon!”
The alpha male loses it as well. His dick twitches in my bottom before lengthening and then jerking like a mad man. Hot jizz sprays my rectum, coating me with a huge load of virile man milk.
“FUCK!” is his roar. “Fuck shit fuck!”
And the sensations are so fabulous that I pass out, my body a shaking, shivery mess. I can’t resist him, and never want to. He is my sun, moon, and stars, and my world revolves around this man.
The next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes, blinking like a newborn babe. Somehow, we’re now on the oversized couch with a thick blanket over us as we breathe peacefully. The lights from the candles flicker all around us and the air smells like sex and champagne. My snatch feels full and fizzy, delicious in every way.
Only Grayson can make me feel like this.
Still dazed, I lean over him on my elbow. My handsome man smirks up at me, completely content.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
And with a delicious sigh, I press my lips to his.
“Yes Grayson. Yes, yes, and yes.”
And I’m speaking my truth because with this man by my side, anything is possible. We met in the most untraditional of ways – because I needed to make money by any means necessary to support my family. But against all odds, we’ve prevailed. We survived a death sentence, condemnation to a life of servitude, as well as the stinging betrayal when Gray let those goons take me away.
But everything’s different now. Gray’s left the Billionaires Club, and good riddance. They weren’t a fit for my man, and he’s better off without them. Besides, it gives me more time with my husband, and with each day that passes, I only love him more.
“Always,” I whisper against his lips.
And this time, he seizes my mouth with his own, deepening our contact into a passionate kiss.
“Always, sweetheart,” he promises fervently. And as my heart sings, I know it’s true. Gray gave up everything for me … and we’ve never been happier for it.
THE END
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Sneak Peek: Pregnant By My Boss
~A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance~
© 2018
By Cassandra Dee and Kendall Blake
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ABOUT THIS BOOK
Pregnant By My Boss: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
I got pregnant at a masquerade ball by a man in a mask.
Katie’s a party planner with only one goal: to put together soirees that are so extravagant and unforgettable that her clients hire her again and again. But when she gets pregnant after a steamy night with a man in a mask, the curvy girl’s not sure what to do next.
Trent Moore has everything at his fingertips, including wealth, fame, and an overabundance of women. But when a feisty party planner comes to work for him, he decides to take matters into his own hands … including putting a baby in her belly by any means possible.
Hey Readers -- This one is off-the-charts crazy and ridiculous between our innocent virgin and the alpha billionaire who always gets what he wants. Plus, as a special extra, we’ve included a never-released story by Jade Evans called The Boy Next Door. As always, read with an ice cold drink nearby because you’re going to need it! :) Love, Cassie and Kendall
Chapter One
Katie
When the bitchy assistant for whatever rich jerk owns this insane mansion called me to handle an extravagant masquerade ball, I strongly considered saying no. But the many zeroes on the huge check Amanda promised I’d get at the end made me reconsider in a heartbeat—and that was on top of the budget they already set for the party. All in all, I was making out like a bandit, which makes it a little easier for me to stomach Amanda’s attitude.
Because she’s absolutely terrible. The woman is your classic snobby blonde bitch with pin-straight hair and a sneer permanently glued to her face. But I won’t let her get to me. Even if she reminds me of all the mean girls back in high school, I’ve moved past that phase of my life. All I need to do is focus on the check I’ll be snatching from her perfectly manicured fingers by the end of this night, and I’ll be fine.
Standing at the mansion’s entrance, I tilt my head to observe the building, trying to see the place as the masked guests will see it. The entryway is a huge circular area with a giant, glittering chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling, and across from the entrance is a long hallway finished in dark woods and antiques my grandmother would drool over. I can practically see the multimillion-dollar price tag on everything lining the walls. I can’t even imagine what having this much money would be like. I certainly wouldn’t have to skip out on the guacamole at Chipotle anymore.
But the vintage feel of the mansion is actually perfect for a masquerade ball. When I found out the party was being hosted by a rich tech guy with a big wallet and an even bigger reputation, I was a little worried about what I’d have to work with. I’ve put together parties for tech guys before, so I’m familiar with their lifestyles. It’s either utterly lavish with over-the-top crazy gadgets and top-of-the-line everything, or totally spare and Spartan. You’re lucky if you have furniture sometimes. I’ve seen guys living with a mattress on the floor and one chair, despite being worth billions.
So during my first tour of this place a couple weeks ago, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Fortunately, seeing the actual building took my breath away and eased my worries. The outside walls were ivy-covered and imposing, with literal turrets reaching into the sky. A sweeping driveway circled the front of the house, a perfect setting for the Bentleys and Porsches that were sure to pull up.
Inside was even better. The expansive hallway across the entryway had a few doorways leading to different parts of the house. Right when you enter, you’re greeted by a giant mirror and an old coat rack that’s unnecessary given the number of maids
bustling around to take your coat. On either side of the large foyer are two wide, winding staircases. I didn’t get to tour the upstairs rooms because Amanda said those were the bedrooms, which wouldn’t be part of the festivities—I stifled a snort then, because what kind of extravaganza doesn’t end in debauchery and a bit of raunchiness? But then again, this was a sophisticated gathering with lots of important people attending. As much as I wanted to take a peek, based on the rest of the house, I could already formulate a mental picture of the luxurious antique furniture in every nook and cranny. I didn’t need to see it to know what it looked like in my mind’s eye.
Just past the entryway and into the hallway, a doorway on the left leads to a huge library that’s probably worth almost as much as the property itself. When I had the initial tour, I saw at least seven first editions placed carefully throughout the book-filled room.
But the library isn’t going to be the setting for today’s party, per Amanda’s request. After all, this is a masquerade ball, so they’ll be using the grand ballroom with its lofty ceiling and gracious, paneled walls.
Sold to Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 15
