Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 1(69)

"It is sexy," he insisted. His hands found said butt and squeezed, massaging my ample ass cheeks, and suddenly I swear I thought my ass might actually be sexy too.

"Oh," I murmured.

Reaching up, Malcolm pulled me down into a kiss. His teeth nibbled at my lips, grazed over my jaw, teased my throat, and all the while his hands squeezed and kneaded, pulling me close until his cock, hard and straining, pressed into the soft hot space between my legs. He rubbed me over himself until I couldn't take it any more and pulled him off the couch. We landed on the floor with a teeth-jarring thud, and he tore his own boxers off me and fucked me as I lay beneath him in his white linen shirt, my hands holding his hips in place as he took his pleasure and gave back to me in return.



“What are you painting?”

“The sea.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that's been done a million times before. I thought you wanted to say something totally new.”

“I'm working on it.”

“I can see that... hey, wait. That's me. That's the sea in the shape of me.”

“You can tell?”

“I'd recognize that pear shape anywhere.”

“You are as beautiful and strong as the sea.”

“Then you're hardly saying nothing with this painting.”

“...I might still have things left to say. Let me say them first, before I can no longer speak. I thought you weren't in a hurry to silence me.”

“I thought you were.”

“...As tumultuous as the sea, too. I cannot predict you.”

“Neither can I sometimes.”

“Kiss me, Sadie.”

“What will I get out of it?”

“This... and... this...”

“...Oh.”



One day I tried to make waffles. It did not go well.

"I burned the waffles," I told Malcolm when he came to investigate the smoke.

"I see that." He stared at the blackened corpses of several failed waffles. "I could smell it, too."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm a really lousy housewife."

"Boatwife," he said. "You are a lousy boatwife."

"Yeah. That."

He ran his finger over my chin and raised a brow. "Even more of a lousy boatwife because you don't know I hate waffles."

I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why do you have a waffle iron?" I asked. "It's just sitting here, begging to be used."

"Every kitchen should have a waffle iron," he said.

"Even if you hate waffles?"

"Especially if you hate waffles. Every time I see it, it reminds me of how lucky I am to not be eating waffles right now."

I stared at the black waffle discs. "I suppose we could play Frisbee with them."

"Or just throw them into the sea."

"That was the eventual goal, yes." I put my hands on my hips and blew my hair out of my face. "Well, what do you want to eat instead?" We were well-provisioned with dry and canned goods, but pre-processed crap was getting awfully old. The waffles, at least, would have been fresh made.

Malcolm grabbed me by the hips. "I can think of one thing I'd like to eat," he said and lifted me onto the counter top before sliding the boxers down my legs and letting them pool on the floor.

He knelt down and began to lick my pussy, quick and sharp. I gasped, my head lolling. “I... I think this violates some sort of health regulation...”

He paused. "Good thing we're in international waters, then." His smile was wicked, and I didn't object when he returned to his task.



*



“So how did you become so fucking rich? This boat is still blowing my mind.”

“My father made me get rich.”

“Haha! Oh, you're serious.”

“I am. Hold still, you are going to mess up the exposure.”

“But my nose itches!”

“Suffer for art.”

“You. You are the one who's supposed to suffer, not your model.”

“Is that so? You see, my father taught me that in business it doesn't matter who is hurt. We all enter with the same expectations. Kill or be killed. If you get killed you might as well lie down and die in the street.”

“Jesus Christ. That's fucked up.”

“Is it? It's held true for most of my time in business, and it's made me quite a lot of money. Hold still.”

“The itch has moved to my boobs now!”

“I will lavish them with attention when we are done if only you will hold still for one more minute.”

“That attention had better be good.”

“I promise it will be.”

“I am entering into this agreement with the expectation to get screwed over now.”

“I wouldn't blame you. I have crushed many an enemy under my heel and heard the lamentations of their interns. But for you, I think I must make an exception. Though we are at war, with two disparate goals, I believe I may fraternize with the enemy as long as I don't let my guard down. You will not convince me to change my course, Sadie. I see what you are doing.”