Banking the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys, #2)(11)

Cassie's creamy thighs rubbed against my cheeks, forcing my short beard to pull the other way and tug at the nerves.

God. Okay. Jesus, I needed to relax. My heart was beating unbearably  fast, and there was no way I could maintain the pace for more than a  minute.

But fuck. The smell of her pussy as she literally rode my face was  goddamn indescribable. It didn't smell like anything else I'd ever  smelled before-even other pussies-but whatever pheromones it housed must  have been specially programmed for me. Like Miracle-Gro for my dick. I  couldn't see it at the moment, because I couldn't see anything other  than this wild woman's fucking perfect pussy, but it was bigger than  it'd ever been. A wager of fifteen grand on that very fact wouldn't have  even made me blink.

Not to mention, how the fuck had we gotten here? How in the hell was I  having sex with Cassie Phillips right now? My head was obviously too  round and thick to wrap around the unexpected concept.

When she ground down harder on my mouth and whimpered, I recognized the  need to forget all the details and just concentrate on what I knew. And I  knew how to eat a fucking pussy.

The secret was simple.

It was never, ever the same.

It could be the same woman, the same day, the same fucking session, but a  woman's pussy is a special kind of woman. She's picky but fucking  generous, and she gets off on all kinds of wicked shit, but her biggest  turn-on is variety and a good sense of mood.

I did my best to listen for Cassie's cues, her moans and whimpers and  the speed of her breath. Did she need it faster or slower, and was the  pressure just right? The answer was never consistent, and I fucking  loved it. Every time I earned a reward through the curl of her toes or a  squeeze of her knees, it made me work harder.

I licked and sucked, and she writhed her slick heat against my face. Her  skin flushed the color of her nipples from her toes to her nose, and my  dick jumped in response.

"God, yes. Lick it, Thatch," she commanded, and I hummed into her soft,  bare skin. Never in my life had I had a woman order me around and take  control like this, but I didn't mind-far from it.         

     



 

When she came, it would be because I had gotten her there, and that was  all the incentive I'd ever need. This wild woman was a fucking goddess,  and anytime she wanted her pussy licked, I'd do it-no questions asked.

Come on, honey. Come on my face.

Just when I was ready, she robbed me of it, jumping from my face with a  moan and scooting quickly back down my body and onto my dick.

"Fuck me," I breathed.

"No, baby," she corrected with a shake of her head. "Not this time. This time, I'm fucking me."

And by God, she did, up and down, she fucked herself on my dick, never  even giving me an opportunity to show any of my moves. I was an  instrument, and she didn't mind doing all the goddamn work. It wasn't an  impossibility, but I had to admit it was rare I encountered a woman  with this much sexual work ethic.

I reached for her tits as they swung in front of me, and I smiled  internally when no hands slapped mine away. They were heavy and heaving,  and when I rubbed the tips with my thumbs, she licked her lips and fell  over the edge.

Her head shot back, her eyes closed, and the taut muscles in her thighs squeezed harder at my hips.

When she fell forward onto my chest with long, even breaths, I let my  hands settle on her hips and rubbed gently to give her a minute to get  her strength and energy back. She'd been tired when we came in here, and  now she'd done enough work for both of us.

"You okay, honey?" I asked, touching my lips to the side of her face and  breathing in the scent of her skin. God, she smelled delicious. Like  oranges and us. I licked at the curve of her shoulder.

She didn't move or speak.

"Cassie?" I questioned.

Soft snores tickled my inner ear, and I knew in an instant.

She'd just fucked herself to sleep. She'd fucked herself to sleep.

Jesus.

My overexcited dick wasn't getting his happy ending tonight. No, this  fucker was doomed by the cliffhanger, and I was the messenger who had to  break the news.

Sorry, buddy. No full eight-second ride this time.

Up and off my dick, I moved Sleeping Beauty as gently as possible. But  when I shook her arm to get her attention without any kind of response, I  knew I shouldn't have bothered.

"Goddammit," I grumbled, picking myself up off the bed and walking  bowlegged into the bathroom. I may not have been happy, but my cock was  spitting mad. Yanking off the condom, I found just a tiny bit of precome  at the tip but absolutely no relief.

Don't be mad at me, asshole, I told my dick. This is not my fault … I don't think.

The whole thing was confusing. I didn't understand how it'd happened or  why it'd stopped before it was over. None of it made one fucking lick of  sense.

The taps to the shower squealed slightly as I turned them and stepped into the not yet warm spray.

My fist was a horrendously poor substitute for the grip of Cassie's  pussy, but it would have to do. I worked myself while picturing the  motion of her tits and the weight of each one in my palms. She'd looked  me in the eye on more than one occasion, even studied my face with a  closeness that made it damn near impossible to forget who she fucked.

And she wasn't the only one. After tonight, I'd be able to picture every part of her body for the rest of my life.

A mediocre climax brought practically the opposite of relief, but I took  it for what it was, did a half-assed job of drying off, and climbed  into the bed next to my new favorite woman.

She was deep in sleep, but that didn't stop me from watching the way her  chest rose and fell with each breath or noticing the absence of  intensity her face normally carried.

She was beautiful in the way all women were, but she was also different.  All this individuality that she never apologized for. It consumed her,  and if I was honest, it was starting to consume me.




The bleating reminder of work blared from the alarm on my phone the next  morning. I reached to shut it off, but instead of finding it in its  normal place on my nightstand, it was across the room in the pocket of  my pants, long forgotten thanks to the naked woman in my bed.

Tossing the covers off, I crossed the room in a hurry and shut it off,  looking back over my shoulder to the bed, but Cassie never even stirred.

She was obviously a sound sleeper.

Venturing into the bathroom again, I took a quick shower since I'd just  had one last night, and I dressed for work quickly enough. Out into the  main room, I walked with my suit jacket in hand and laid it over the  back of the couch before setting a pot of coffee to brew.

I was used to going without sleep. Having a stake in so many companies  and putting extra time into the tattoo shop whenever I could, I spent a  lot of extra hours awake. But this was different. Because I was sleepy  and sexually frustrated, and I may have been proficient in the first,  but I wasn't a frequent victim of the last. Getting off often was the  tension release I needed to keep me moving, and I knew all that  frustration, combined with the memory of Cassie's body, was going to  make this workday one of the longest in my history.         

     



 

As the time to leave approached, I went back into the bedroom and  rounded the bed to Cassie's side. I settled a hip into the crook of hers  and wiped a clump of untamed hair from her face.

"Cassie," I whispered, shaking her hip. "Wake up, honey."

She didn't move until I shook harder, and when she did, it wasn't nice and easy.

A right hook came for my head that I just barely dodged, and then up and  out of the bed she jumped until her wild eyes found mine.

"You don't do anything easy, huh?" I asked with a laugh.

Her eyes pinched together as she looked around, but it must have all  come back to her quick enough. She strolled to my dresser, yanked out a  T-shirt, and pulled it over her head without a word.

"Is there coffee?" she asked, pointing out the door in the direction of the kitchen.

"Yeah," I answered and followed her as she walked down the hall. "Sorry to wake you up, but I have to leave for work."

"No worries," she said with a wave as she poured the fresh brew into her cup.

I smiled and started to open my mouth, but as soon as she was finished  pouring, she turned on her foot and headed back toward my room.

I followed again, expecting to find her gathering her clothes, but she  climbed into the bed and pulled the down comforter and her cup up to her  nose.

"I, uh … " I started. "I have to leave for work."

"I know," she confirmed with a nod. "Have a good day."

What the … ?

"Oh-okay. I'll, uh, see you later?" I said with the lilt of a question.

"Yeah, sure thing," she agreed, gulping down a slurp of coffee and reaching to the nightstand for my remote.

"Do you get the Bravo network?"

"I … " I shook my head. "What?"

"I missed the latest episode of Vanderpump Rules, and Georgie's got me hooked on that shit."