Married to the Secret Billionaire

by Wylder, Penny

  “Come again,” he orders, his voice a low growl. I can’t resist an order like that.

  I let out another cry, fainter this time, trembling with the force of the orgasm that sweeps through my body, leaving all my nerve endings alight. I keep moving, keep riding him, loving the feeling of his thick cock as he buries it in my pussy again and again.

  His hands drop to my waist now, and he starts to thrust hard and fast, abandoning everything but that. I cling to him as he fucks me, and he comes not long after me, with a rough growl in the back of his throat as he wraps both arms tightly around my body, driving up into me until I can feel him shudder, feel him come inside me, our combined juices mingling and dripping down my thighs onto his lap.

  I don’t know how long I stay there, my arms wrapped tight around him, savoring the feeling of being this close to him.

  When I finally slide away, I let out a faint laugh, as more juices spill down my thighs, making me shiver with pleasure. There’s something so filthy, so deliciously dirty about it.

  He catches my eye and smirks, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “You’d better use the en suite to clean up, dirty girl.” He points at the small bathroom attached to his private office. “Before the entire floor finds out just how dirty you are.”

  “Not as dirty as you,” I respond, with a pointed look, and he grins and trails after me into the bathroom. I’ll say this for him, the man knows when he’s beat.

  There’s a shower in here, although it’s tight. He shuts the door behind us and helps me strip off the rest of the clothes I didn’t bother taking off when I was busy seducing him right in the middle of his office.

  Then I finish stripping him too, and he pushes me into the shower first, before he squeezes in after. It’s a close fit. So close that we’re pressed together, my body crushed against his as the hot water pours down over us. He leans in to kiss me again, and I can smell sex in the air, my scent on him and his all over me. It drives me wild.

  I slide my hands down through the cascading hot water to cup his cock between my palms and run my hands over his shaft, back and forth. His hand comes up to the top of my head, and gently pushes me down, until I drop to my knees in front of him in the shower.

  His cock slowly grows hard again, especially once I start to trail my tongue along his length, from the base to the shaft in long, slow strokes.

  “Mm, that’s it.” He cracks an eye to watch me. “I love that dirty mouth of yours, Sinclair.”

  I tilt my head back to grin at him. “You do?”

  “Mm. Use it. Suck me clean.” His hands come to rest in my hair, getting soaked in the shower now. But I needed it anyway. I still have some jam sticking to me, and it sloughs off now in the shower, helped along as Ankor runs his fingers through my hair, kneading my scalp with his strong, rough fingers. Eventually he cups the back of my head, and when I purse my lips at the spongy tip of his cock, he pulls me toward him, so my lips part around his cock, and slowly, inch by inch, I take him into my mouth.

  When the tip of his cock touches the back of my mouth I hesitate, pausing, trying to adjust. I reach around to grip his ass with my hands for balance, and a little gag escapes me as his cock presses against my throat.

  “Relax,” he murmurs, his voice low over the rush of the hot shower. His hands massage my scalp, his nails scratching just a little, just enough to help me.

  I let go. I relax, the way I’m only ever able to do around him. And he pushes his cock just a little deeper before he draws back out. I take a deep breath, and then he pushes back into my mouth again. At the same time I arch my tongue upward, pressing it against the underside of his shaft, my tongue tracing over the veins there, and he groans with pleasure, deep in his throat.

  This time when the tip of his cock touches the back of my throat, I let my whole jaw relax, and my throat. He presses forward, pulls me toward him, and inches down my throat, until his whole cock is stuffed into my mouth, filling me. I tighten my grip on his ass, my eyes half-shut, tearing a little before he lets me go and draws back out.

  When I look up, I find him watching me with hungry, lust-filled eyes. I love watching how wild he gets when I do this, how he loses control.

  “Fuck you’re amazing at this,” he murmurs. Then he guides me back down onto him.

  Before long, we find a rhythm, as he starts to pump his hips against my face. I take him wholly into my mouth each time now, taking breaths between, my lips tight around him, my tongue tracing over him, as I reach another hand between his legs to gently tug on his balls, rolling them between my fingers in way that makes him groan and tense with desire.

  “You like sucking my cock, Sinclair? You like feeling me in your mouth?”

  I moan in agreement, and love the way it makes him inhale sharply, tensing again. His cock jumps between my lips, sensitive, as he starts to get closer to his finish. I start to move my face in time with his hips, until he fully loses himself, gripping my hair tightly as he fucks my face, his cock driving into my mouth over and over, the pressure building in him until…

  “I’m going to come,” he murmurs, voice low in his throat, tight as he tries to control himself. “I want you to swallow it, Sinclair. Swallow my cum.”

  I moan in agreement, and that sensation alone, the vibration of my mouth around the shaft of his cock, is enough to set him over the edge. He grips my hair one last time, drives his cock all the way into my throat and finishes hard, coming in my mouth. I swallow, reflexive, and pull back a little, starting to lick every drop from his shaft. I fucking love it, the sensation, the taste of him.

  I never knew cum could taste so damn good.

  “My hungry girl.” He smirks, and I pause to grin up at him, knowing he loves the look of my face afterward. He runs a hand through my now-soaking wet hair again, and gently pulls me to my feet in front of him in the shower. “My turn.”

  Needless to say, the shower takes a while longer.

  We wind up running the hot water all the way down to lukewarm, which is impressive in an office of this size. But at least by the time we finish, not only am I breathless and flushed, but I’m completely pie free.

  We finish dressing and stumble back out into his office to find that the sun has already set, and it’s well past our dinner reservation. Neither of us care.

  Ankor grabs his things as I wait for him by the door, flushed with pleasure, smiling as I watch him. He pauses, glancing toward his chair and frowning. He swipes a finger along the edge of it, and it comes away stained a purplish color. Blackberry. He shakes off the bit of fruit into the garbage can and glances in my direction, curious.

  “Well, the cleaning staff are definitely going to have their hands full tonight,” he murmurs, making sure to leave a wad of cash on the desk as he goes. He’s always considerate like that. Another thing I love about him.

  He extends his hand to me, and I slip mine into his grip, loving how strong his hand feels wrapped around mine. How safe and protective.

  For a while, I think I’ve gotten away with it. But then the elevators close behind us, on our way down through the now empty office toward the lobby. Once we’re alone in the lift, he turns to me.

  “So, are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

  “All what?” I ask, trying for an innocent smile.

  All it gets me in return is an arched eyebrow. “So you just came into my office covered head to toe in pie for fun.”

  “You weren’t complaining about the taste,” I pointed out.

  “Would have tasted better if I could have eaten a slice—although I’m not complaining about getting to eat some off of my favorite dish.” The elevator reaches the ground floor, and he makes sure to take the opportunity to smack me on the ass firmly as we step out of it.

  I roll my eyes over my shoulder at him, and then we both break off to wave to the doorman, who’s squinting at me suspiciously, as if wondering what I did with all the mess I had earlier. My cheeks flush. I wait until we’re out in the fresh
air of the unusually warm autumn night.

  We stroll another block before Ankor nudges me. “Well? What happened.”

  “You know…” I hesitate, the story on the tip of my tongue. But then I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Honestly, Ankor, the past, all of it… it doesn’t scare me anymore. It has no hold over me now. What happened in the past is over, and it can’t hurt either us.” I squeeze his hand. “What matters is what comes next. What matters is where we’re headed, you and me.”

  He smiles and leans down to kiss the top of my head. “You realize I’ll get this story out of you someday, right?”

  I chuckle softly. “I know. But trust me. Right now? It does not matter.”

  “I do,” he murmurs. When I frown a little, confused, he adds, “Trust you.” Then he winks. “So, if you’d rather not talk about it now, we won’t. Let’s talk about where we’re headed instead, then.”

  “Where are we headed?” I ask, because we’ve turned in the opposite direction of our apartment.

  “I have an idea,” is all he’ll say in response. Even when I pester him.

  But pretty soon, it becomes obvious. We’re steering toward Central Park. I’m not about to complain. It’s my favorite part of the city, especially at this hour, with dusk in the sky and the stars—what few you can see in Manhattan anyway—just starting to peek out between the clouds above.

  It’s a warm night, even for this late in fall. It’s my favorite time of year—the leaves have started to change overhead, and closer to the park, instead of the usual city scents, there’s the scent of trees and dry leaves crunching under our feet. And the scent of hay, then the tangy smell of horses.

  I glance at Ankor again, amused. “The carriages?”

  “It was so much fun the first time we went.” He glances sideways at me. “Mostly watching your reactions.”

  I can’t help it. Horses are my kryptonite. They’re so adorable. Especially these, all dressed up for rides through the park. We reach the row of them, and I hold out my hand to the nearest horse, a tall handsome black stallion, letting him sniff my palm.

  Ankor pays for a whole hour and helps me into the back of the carriage. I lean into his side, nestling closer as we prance into the park, the carriage wheels rattling, the horse’s hooves clopping on the pavement. The driver flashes us both a broad smile and faces forward, giving us privacy.

  Ankor runs a hand through my hair as we ride, holding me close. “I’ve loved having you here with me, these past few months.”

  “I’ve loved being here,” I murmur. “I never in a million years would’ve guessed I’d end up in New York City of all places. And with someone like you.” I tilt my head back to watch him in the glow of the street lamps.

  “Someone who makes you have to hide in your penthouse half the time for fear of paparazzi attacks?” he responds with a wry grin.

  I nudge him with my elbow, grinning. “Someone who makes me feel strong. Not just safe and protected, but like I’m strong enough to protect myself, too.” I eye him. “Not to mention, someone who knows how to turn me on every single day, in the most inappropriate places…”

  “You’re the one who barged into my office,” he reminds me with a smirk. “I was only making sure you got what you wanted.”

  “Uh huh.” I grin.

  He kisses the corner of my lips. Then shifts, kissing along my jawline lightly, until he reaches my ear. He nips the edge of my earlobe, before he whispers, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in that office. Every day at work, you’re all that’s on my mind.”

  A shiver runs through me, and I lean closer to him. “Was it everything you imagined?”

  “So much better.” His mouth finds mine, then, and I sink into him, savoring his taste, the feeling of his warm, strong body pressed against him, his arms wrapped around me to shield me from the faint chill that’s crept into the evening air. When we break apart again, he’s watching me, eyes steady and serious. “You are so much better, than anyone I’ve ever dreamt of meeting, Sinclair. Before you, I had no idea what real love felt like.”

  My heart skips a beat, thudding almost painfully in my chest. “Ankor…”

  He pulls away from me, just a little, and it makes me shiver, where the cold air hits. “I was planning to do this at dinner tonight,” he says, with a faint smile. “At some fancy rooftop place. But this feels better. This feels more us.” He gestures at the dark park around us that we’re riding through, the carriage swaying ever so slightly as we roll past couples embracing, people out walking their dogs, and the swans in the lake we’re passing.

  I know what he means. Unlike the upscale restaurants where we’re normally on display—even if the waiters have been carefully trained to pretend they don’t know who we are and let us think we’re anonymous—here, it’s just us, alone in the night air. Just like when we were on Maui all those months ago.

  “This is nice,” I agree.

  “The perfect place to do this,” he says. And then he slides off the bench beside me to get down on one knee on the carriage floor.

  My hands fly to my mouth, my eyes going wide. “Ankor, what—”

  “Sinclair.” He catches my hand and pulls it to his chest. My left hand.

  Oh my god.

  “From the moment I first met you, I knew I had to have you. You made me want to break all of my rules, private and public.” He reaches into his pocket and draws out a small box. My heart races in my chest. I can’t believe this is happening.

  But at the same time, part of me knew. Part of me has always known, from the first moment I laid eyes on him in that pool, that it would be him. He makes me feel the way nobody else has. He makes me take chances, do things I never thought I was capable of doing.

  “Sinclair, will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, barely able to get the word out past the sudden tightness in my throat. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes, and I laugh through them. “Yes, of course, Ankor.” I barely even notice the ring he slides onto my finger—although from the corner of my eye I can tell there are sapphires, and I love that. How non-traditional it is. Just like us. Just like our whole story.

  But then his arms are around me, and he’s kissing me, and I sink into him, lost in the sensation. We break apart, just far enough for him to rest his forehead against mine and gaze into my eyes.

  “I gave up all my secrets for you,” he whispers.

  “And I gave up mine for you.” I lean in to kiss him again, softer this time. “For better or for worse, we’re totally exposed to each other now.” I dare a small smile.

  “Now and forever,” he agrees. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap in the carriage. I slide my knees around either side of his waist and pull myself against him, as his arms circle my waist.

  When he kisses me again, it’s the kind of kiss that could start fires. The kind that I know we’ll be able to keep burning for the rest of our lives together.

  15

  Sinclair

  I fidget with the hem of the dress.

  “Relax, Sinclair. You look gorgeous.” Margot catches my eye in the mirror of the dressing room and winks. “Ankor won’t know what hit him.”

  I watch my reflection as I chew on my lower lip, clearly still unable to shake my nerves, despite the fact that a little part of me knows she’s right—I do look amazing in this dress. It’s white, simple but sleek and elegant, a flow of silk that falls from my shoulders and hugs my curves just enough to hint that they’re there, before it cascades down from my hips, ending just above the strappy, glittery sandals I chose today. Around my wrist is a bracelet Ankor’s mother leant me, something both borrowed and blue, since it’s dripping with sapphire gems that wink in the overhead lights.

  Between that, and the beautiful curled updo Margot managed to do on my hair, not to mention my simple makeup with just a hint of pink to my lips and a faint shadow of smoke around my eyes, I look incredible. I feel incredible, being here, about to do this. About to t
ie myself to Ankor for the rest of our lives.

  But there’s still just the tiniest hint of worry trailing me. After all, ever since the press caught a glimpse of the ring on my finger, they’ve been hounding us worse than ever. Tailing Ankor’s and my every step, trying to catch an idea of what we’re planning for the wedding.

  Luckily, I think we managed to get one step ahead of them, coming here.

  I take a deep breath of the warm, muggy tropical air, and straighten my shoulders. “Okay,” I tell Margot. “I’m ready.”

  She hooks her arm through mine and leads me toward the steps.

  We made it to the top before the butterflies return, for an entirely different reason now. We didn’t invite many people—just Ankor’s immediate family, and a few of the staff—most of whom seemed a lot less surprised than I think Ankor expected them to, to find out that their pool boy was somebody else in hiding. I wonder if a few of them always suspected. His car isn’t exactly incognito, after all.

  Still, it’s a strange sensation to descend the main staircase of the resort I once ran away to, with all eyes on me.

  Margot goes first, as my maid of honor, a simple bouquet in hand. We weren’t even going to go with flowers, but the hotel florist insisted on making us some.

  I raise mine to my lips and breathe in the perfume of the passion flowers in my own bouquet. Then, the scent still lingering in my senses, I start to walk.

  I catch a glimpse of Ankor’s old students clustered by the wall. Mrs. Jenkins winks at me, and even Ms. Humbolt waves, though I know she’d still love to be able to flirt with Ankor instead if she could.

  Ankor’s parents are in the front row, heads turned toward mine. His mother daubs at tears on her cheeks, and his father is smiling so widely it’s a wonder his jaw doesn’t ache from it.

  But then my gaze reaches the front of the room, and my stomach drops out from beneath me, and I forget about everyone else. I forget the audience, his family, our friends. I forget about the press, or any worries I had about them somehow finding out about today and ruining it.