Page 79 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

My cock twitched, standing harder, stronger—aching for her touch.

We leaned in, our bodies molding together, legs tangled in a desperate embrace. My cock throbbed, content just to be near her—but greedy for more. Instinct took over, my hips shifting, the swollen head of my cock brushing against the slick entrance of her pussy.

Warm. Wet. Silken.

I reached down, sliding my fingers over her folds, feeling the perfect mix of her arousal and my own pre-cum. I teased her, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, massaging her with my hand and the tip of my dick.

She whined—a soft, melodic sound that shot straight through me.

My fingers worked her again and again, each touch more insistent, more demanding.

What the fuck was I doing? Torturing myself like this?

The longer I kept from sinking inside her, the more unbearable the need became.

My dick twitched, aching to thrust, to bury itself in the intoxicating heat between her thighs. I felt myself growing even harder, heavier—throbbing with an intensity I’d never experienced before. My dick had never been this fucking big. It strained, pulsed, and begged for her.

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice sultry and breathless, like the star of an erotic film—not porn, but something more refined, more intoxicating.

The head of my cock lingered at her entrance, like a vampire waiting for an invitation. But those three words—soft and pleading—were all the permission I needed.

With deliberate care, I pushed forward, sinking into her inch by inch.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted as she gasped for air, her body stretching to take me in.

Ah.

A groan rumbled from my chest as I clenched my eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. The pressure, the tightness—fuck, it was almost too much.

I had the urge to laugh. Like a fucking giddy schoolboy having sex for the first time.

Of all the women I’d been with, none had never made me feel like this.

Her pussy fit around me like the perfect glove.

Custom-made. Designed just for me.

I pulled out.

Thrust back in.

Fuck, it felt incredible.

I kept moving, stroking deep, unable to stop. Unwilling to stop.

June moved with me, pressing closer, meeting every thrust with a need just as wild, just as desperate. Our lips crashed together, mouths searching, devouring—because even this, even sex, wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t just sex.

If it was, it wasn’t anything like I remembered.

I wanted to stay inside her forever, wanted to keep her wrapped around me, melting into me. I drove deeper, making her cry out my name, and suddenly, something else flickered through me—something beyond pleasure, beyond lust.

I couldn’t place it.

“Are you okay?” I murmured, kissed her forehead. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. I kissed her again—once, twice, three times—soft, lingering touches.