Submitting to the Billionaire(52)

Then, of course, like a dog returning to its favorite toy, I return my  attention to her clit. I suck on it once more. It hardens in my mouth  even as the muscles in her pussy grow tight around my fingers. I know  she isn't far from coming, but when she does, it is even more intense  than I expect.

Her cunt clenches my fingers tightly, gripping me like a vice, and her  eyes flutter shut as her orgasm hits her. I have made many women cum in  my lifetime, but this time, this is completely different. Her scream is  barely muffled by the panties stuffed in her mouth, and I have to  hurriedly wrap an arm around her waist to keep her upright. It's a  full-body reaction, and I must admit that I'm a feeling a little proud  to have drawn it out of her.

I stand up, still holding her close, and pull the panties from her  mouth. She opens her eyes, and I slide the fingers that have been inside  her into her mouth. She parts her lips and sucks, gazing at me the  whole time.

Holy shit, this woman.

I close my eyes and press my hips against hers, praying that we have  time, praying that I can find some relief of my own before her parents  come downstairs.

Before I can even get my cock out, though, we hear movement from  upstairs. She leaps away from me with a panicked look on her face and  reaches down to pull up her jeans quickly. I stuff her panties into my  pocket: a memento for later. I watch her as she tries to rearrange  herself. Her lips are still glistening from her own wetness.

I have to take a deep, steadying breath to avoid closing the gap between us and fucking her anyway.





Chapter Six





Reese





We both stand stock-still and listen to the noises upstairs. Someone is  getting out of bed, and I'll put money on it being Dad. Surely, they  can't have heard us? Even though Dad's hearing is poor at best and the  drugs effectively knock Morgan into such a deep sleep that it is  sometimes hard to deliberately wake her up, I can't be totally sure that  they have been oblivious to everything that we've been up to down here.  All I can hope is that Drake managed to muffle most of my noises by  stuffing my panties into my mouth.         

     



 

I have no idea what I look like, but my face feels flushed, and my  breath is still coming so fast I'm sure it must be blindingly obvious to  anyone who lays eyes on me that I've just climaxed. Terrified that I'll  give the game away, I close my eyes and try to calm myself, but it's  hard, especially knowing that he's right there, looking at me with more  lust than I know what to do with.

How am I supposed to react normally in front of my parents with a guy like this around?

I force my eyes open and meet Drake's gaze once more. I've had guys want  me, sure, but I've never had anyone look at me like this before. As if  he wants to devour me. Maybe it's because I haven't really wanted any  other man to drag me off into his bedroom and never let me out again;  their interest has never meant anything to me.

Drake's interest drives me wild.

I take another deep breath and get a firm hold of myself. This isn't  about me. Though I can't help cursing the fact that the first guy to  come along in all my twenty years of life and who is my stepmom's son,  is also a man that I honestly want to be with. He's here to see Morgan  and I shouldn't get in the way of that with my stupidly raging hormones.

"How have you been?" I ask awkwardly, trying to disperse the heavy fog  of desire that seems to have settled over the room since we drew apart.

He shrugs and eyes me hungrily.

"Conversation would help," I croak.

"Thinking about you. You?" he mutters and lifts his chin as if daring me  to agree with him; to admit that I've done nothing but think of him  since the moment we parted company.

"Why did you really come?" I need to know why. He was so cynical when I  left. I seriously never thought he'd actually bother to come all the way  here to see her.

"To see you," he says in a flat voice as if it should have been obvious.

My heart leaps at his answer, but as much as I love his answer my first  concern is about Morgan. I want him to be here for her sake too.

"You are going to see her, aren't you?" I press. "You're going to give her a chance?"

"Sure," he agrees, shrugging his shoulders casually, but I can see the  cynicism etched onto his face. I have no idea what is going through his  head, but judging by the look on his face, it isn't anything too good.  It sucks to know that he doesn't believe Morgan is his mom. What does he  think we are up to then? A case of mistaken identity? Or maybe he  thinks we're trying to con him out of some of his cash? Or, I'm one of  his adoring fans doing this to meet him and get into his pants?

"You don't believe us, do you?" I hear myself asking.

He shakes his head. "Frankly, no."

I bow my head slightly with sadness.

"But I'll hear your stepmother out."

"Thank you." I raise my head. I want him to know that I'm grateful, even  if we both need to admit there's something more going on here than just  fulfilling my stepmother's greatest wish.

Before we have a chance to say anything else, Dad emerges at the top of  the stairs. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand and grins broadly  when he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

"You must be Drake?" He holds his hand out to Drake.

Drake takes his hand and shakes it. "I'm sorry to hear about your wife, Sir."

I'm taken aback by Drake's politeness. This is a completely different  man than the one who told me to lock the locker room door and strip  naked.

Dad's smile is sad. "Thank you for coming. I know it's been a big shock  to you, but she really appreciates you coming to hear her out." Dad  glances over at me and I can't help the flush that creeps up my neck. He  gives me a funny look and frowns slightly. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Uh, yeah." I smooth down my hair and force a smile to my lips. I really  hope I'm not making it too obvious that Drake has just been eating me  out.

"Do you want to offer Drake a cup of coffee or something?" Dad prompts.

I nod quickly, throwing any thoughts of Drake's face buried between my  legs out of my mind for good. I turn towards Drake. "Sorry, I wasn't  thinking," I mutter. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," he agrees easily.

"Right, I'll go make some," I say too loudly, and hurry towards the  kitchen. I stand at the kitchen door and eavesdrop on their  conversation.

"Would you like to wait in the living room while I'll go and get my wife ready?" Dad asks.

"No, I'll keep Reese company in the kitchen," Drake replies.         

     



 

"That'll be good. She needs a bit of time to wake up properly. I'll need about ten minutes."

"Take your time," Drake says politely, and Dad heads back up the stairs.

I jump away from the kitchen door and start collecting some mugs from the cupboard.

Drake joins me in the kitchen and stands with his hip leaning against the counter.

I can see a little hint of worry on his face, and wonder if it's just  sinking in what he's about to do. People don't tend to like spending  time with people who are terminally ill. I've discovered that since  Morgan became sick. He looks a little pale, but to his credit, he  doesn't try to back out.

"You okay?" I ask softly, and he turns to me, his face snapping back into its usual, cocky self.

"Yeah," he nods and watches as I fill the coffee pot and switch it on.

"Milk?" I ask.

He shakes his head.

"Sugar."

He shakes his head again.

I hand him the mug, careful not to let our fingers touch.

He holds the mug and stares at his hands as if he is trying to psych  himself up for his meeting with Morgan. "Anything I should know before I  go up there?" he asks.

"All my life I've never known Morgan to lie once. Not once. So, just be …  open-minded," I suggest.

He frowns and stares into his coffee.

"She doesn't want anything from you, Drake," I say gently. "She has  nothing to gain by this. Just her own peace of mind. She's dying."

He keeps my gaze for a second, and then nods, but before we have a  chance to speak again, we are interrupted by the sound of Dad's  footsteps on the stairs. He sticks his head around the kitchen.

"You'll never believe this, but she's actually wide awake." He smiles at Drake. "Whenever you want to go up … "

Drake puts his untouched coffee mug on the counter, nods at Dad, goes  through the door. I follow and watch him pause at the bottom of the  stairs for a second. Then, with a deep breath, he starts his journey up.





Chapter Seven





Drake





I must admit this whole thing has started to give me the creeps. I was  certain that it was all a scam. Fuck, I wouldn't even have come if I  didn't want to mark Reese as my property so damn badly.

To start with I'm not good at all this emotional stuff, but worse I'm  not so sure anymore that it's a scam. My bullshit-o-meter has been  waiting to spot a crack, a problem in the story so that I can unravel  and bring the whole thing down around them, but so far nothing. Could  these three really be that good at pretending?