Bad Grace: A Billionaire Romance Romantic Suspense (The Filth Monger Book 2)
Page 15
‘If I fuck you now, you’ll never fuck another man, ever again. Is that what you want?’
‘It’s what I want,’ I said. No one could ever surpass this man. Everything about him was beyond compare. It was a no-brainer.
‘Not even in your wildest fantasies, not without my express permission. Do you understand?’
I understood. My fantasies were no longer my own. I wanted it that way. At last, I had someone to share the burden.
‘Yes,’ I breathed. ‘Fuck me, please, Sir. Fuck me forever.’
Forty Three
Him
It took everything I had to restrain myself from jumping straight onto her and ploughing her furrow, there and then. Her lithe, golden body, stretched out so invitingly across the sheets, coupled with the desperation in her voice, almost sent me over the edge.
I took a deep breath and regained my composure – to some extent, at least. ‘Lay back down, Angel,’ I said. ‘And spread your legs.’
Her eyes widened slightly and she looked uncomfortable, but she did as I said, pulling her knees up towards her and letting her thighs drop open. She lay there, looking awkward, as I let my gaze come to rest between her legs.
‘Wider,’ I said. ‘And pull your lips apart – I want to see everything.’
She hesitated, looking at me beseechingly, as if begging me to change my mind. There was no chance of that, though. Now I had her safe, her vulnerability and innocence were too much of a turn-on.
‘No secrets, Angel,’ I said. ‘I want you totally open, in every way.’
She gave an almost inaudible gasp at my words, but I got the feeling it was a gasp of excitement, rather than of shock. She put up no further protest, anyway, and put her fingers to her folds, parting them until she was fully exposed to me.
‘Beautiful.’ I couldn’t keep the lust from my voice and, forgetting everything I’d intended to do, I sank down between her legs, my fingers taking over from hers. I spread her even wider, until the soft pinkness of her inner flesh was exposed, then sank my tongue into her, lapping at her sweet juices as I toyed with her clit.
She let slip a sigh of pleasure and opened her thighs still wider. I pushed my tongue inside her, running it around her tight, grasping walls, before pulling out again. She let loose a wail, and I pushed back inside her, fucking her with my tongue, as she continued to moan.
She lifted her hands up, running her fingers through my hair. I let her carry on for a few moments, then I moved up on top of her, unable to restrain myself anymore.
‘I’m going to have you now, Angel,’ I murmured into her ear. ‘Now and forever.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her hands locked into the back of my hair. ‘Please, Sir.’
‘Good girl,’ I said, running my mouth across hers. Her lips were soft under mine, her breath hot and sweet.
I positioned my cock at her entrance, and held it there for a moment, savouring the anticipation that had been building inside me, ever since I’d taken her in my arms by the sofa. It was practically at boiling point now, and I was half worried I’d blow my load the moment I breached her.
She gave a cry of anguish. ‘Fuck me, please, Sir. Fuck me now.’
I guided my cock between her parted lips. As I pushed inside her, I took hold of her elbows and pinned her arms above her head, clasping her hands in mine to keep her in place.
She let loose a louder cry. ‘Oh, please, Dear God, let me touch you.’
I couldn’t help smiling, even as my cock throbbed harder with each thrust. This wasn’t the shy, self-conscious angel I’d walked with on the Embankment. This was the real deal. I had her now. She was mine to own, to use, to love – this enchanting contradiction of a woman.
‘Please,’ she repeated, with another wail. ‘Let me touch you. I need to.’
That she could seem at once so sweetly innocent and yet so ripe for corruption was almost too much for me to take. As I drove into her, she arched her hips up towards me, clutching at me as if she were afraid I’d disappear, or change my mind. She couldn’t have been more wrong. I could’ve stayed there forever in her, my fingers entwined with hers, her legs wrapped around my waist.
But not tonight. I needed her too badly and I relented.
‘Very well,’ I said, letting her hands free, and at once they were everywhere, running all over my body, as if she wanted to touch all of me at once. The sensation of her fingers, gripping the back of my neck, sent further thrills down to my cock. I drove into her harder, grinding against her with each stroke, eager to share the pleasure she was giving me. She ground back, her hips circling and matching me, thrust for thrust.
‘God, I’ve waited for this moment.’ I pulled back and looked into her eyes.
‘Me, too,’ she whispered.
For the first time, she looked truly bashful and went to turn her head away. I put my hand to her chin and stopped her. ‘What’s the matter, Angel? Don’t you want to look at me?’
‘It’s not that.’ She went to turn away again, but then seemed to think better of it. ‘It’s just, I’ve never…you know…done that before, during…’
I almost laughed. Every time I thought I knew this beautiful creature, she somehow wrong-footed me again. This girl, who had so nearly been taken by a whole gang of men, had never so much as held someone’s gaze during sex. It was almost unbelievable and yet, at the same time, oddly beguiling.
‘Well,’ I said, finally. ‘You’re going to look at me now, okay? No secrets, Angel.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, Sir,’ she whispered and, as I drove into her again, I stared right into her wide, liquid-blue eyes.
I could sense the difference, at once. It was as if breaking down this barrier had ramped the whole thing up a notch. She let loose a cry of pleasure and her whole back arched off the bed. She put her hands to my face, running her fingers across my cheeks and along my jaw, as I fucked her.
‘You’re mine, Angel,’I murmured, as her fingers trailed down my neck.
She didn’t answer, just nodded, tight and brief. She seemed as lost in me as I was in her, and the intensity of my emotions threatened to explode out through my cock. I needed some breathing space. I took hold of her hips and rolled over, onto my back, pulling her up on top of me as I did so.
It barely interrupted our rhythm and she sat up, her body arched backwards, as I pulled and teased at her nipples, before cupping her tits in my hands and pushing them together. I gripped them, using them to control her, to ram her cunt down harder onto my cock. She went with it, writhing like a pagan priestess, out of her mind in some opiate-fuelled sex ritual, and gasping wildly with each buck of her hips.
I could hardly believe it was actually happening, after everything that had occurred over the last few days. I’d really thought I’d lost her – this priestess, this…
‘Angel,’ I groaned, aloud.
‘Sir,’ she replied, jerking the word out in a gasp and, for once, the title didn’t grate on me.
‘Fuck me, Angel,’ I groaned, pulling her down on top of me and running my fingers down her back. Her tight nipples brushed my chest as we ground against each other, our tongues mingling in the space between our mouths as we struggled to get enough of each other. It was like a vampire’s frenzy. We were almost attacking each other by now, grinding and sucking and licking and biting, as if our lives depended on it.
Just as I thought I was going to have to slow down again, or risk coming before her, she let loose a cry. She pushed herself up again, and tipped her head back, her hair cascading down behind her in a shower of silver and gold. She looked as if she were in agony and she was, I knew, but it was an agony borne of ecstasy and we were in it together.
As we climaxed, my seed spurted into her grasping cunt in the sweetest release I’d ever experienced, and I knew, in that moment, that I owned her, body and spirit.
Forty Four
Him
‘Tell me your mine forever,’ I said, as I lay enwrapped in her, spent, her sweat mingling wi
th mine.
‘I’m yours,’ she said, softly but with so much force. ‘Forever.’
‘If you give yourself to me, you do it willingly, do you understand?’
‘I understand.’ She traced a line with her tongue along my jawline.
‘No coercion, no second-guessing, no way back.’
‘No coercion...’ Her tongue had reached my ear, and her words came soft and breathy into it. ‘…no second-guessing, no way back.’
I pulled her down next to me and cradled her, like a baby, in my arms, until she was asleep. My Angel, fucked-up no more, but wrapped up, instead, in silken sheets. A precious treasure, gift-wrapped just for me.
I fell asleep to the soft hush of her breathing, still entwined in her arms.
It was gone nine when I awoke the next morning. I looked at her, lying there so soft and sweet, the locks of her hair drifting across her face in waves, and I didn’t care. I could stay in this bed, with her, forever and never come up for air.
Strange how a day ago, twelve hours ago even, my whole life had seemed like a crock of shit. Now it felt like a Gene Kelly movie – that was the difference she made to a man, and she just didn’t see it.
After laying there a while, watching the sweet secret of her sleeping, I got up, still musing on the glorious strangeness of the previous day. I threw on jeans and a shirt, and went to the kitchen. I made a pot of tea, grabbed some pains au chocolat, and brought everything back to the bedroom. The whole place was still and quiet, but for the sound of a car on the gravel in the driveway.
‘Wake up, Miss Anderton,’ I said, kissing her awake. ‘I’ve brought breakfast. I may be a bastard in the bedroom, but I’m fully house-trained.’
She came to, rubbing her eyes against the sunlight filtering through the trees outside.
‘What time is it?’ she muttered. ‘Oh, God – work!’
‘It’s Sunday,’ I said, kissing the back of her neck. ‘We’ve got all day, and I never did get round to what I’d planned for this bed.’
‘Why?’ she said, sighing with pleasure. ‘What were you planning?’
‘Do you really not know?’
She shook her head.
‘I was going to tie you up.’ I ran my fingers down the bedpost. ‘This bed was made for it. It seems a shame to waste it.’
She rolled over to face me. ‘Oh, God, Nat,’ she said. ‘Is this really happening? I’ve never felt so…it’s…I love you.’
‘Not as much as I love you,’ I said.
She put her finger to my lips. ‘Don’t even think it,’ she said.
‘It’s true.’ I couldn’t find the words to explain it. ‘It’s…beyond love.’
‘It’s perfect,’ she said. ‘Things couldn’t get any better than this. I’d die of happiness.’
From the corridor, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps growing closer. It was odd because the servants were usually at pains to move quietly.
The sounds died away at the door to my quarters, where they were replaced by a loud rapping. I got up, throwing Grace my dressing-gown before going to answer the door. Just as I reached it, it flew open.
Ronnie was standing there, wringing her hands. I heard Grace coming out of the bedroom behind me.
‘I’m sorry, my love,’ Ronnie said, standing back to let two stern police officers through. ‘I tried to stop them – make them wait downstairs – but they insisted on coming up.’
The officers were apparently getting sick of Ronnie interfering. One of them stepped forward, handcuffs at the ready.
‘Mr Nathaniel Fforbes?’
I nodded. God, what the hell has Charlotte done now? Or have they somehow found out I was with Rick?
‘Mr Nathaniel Fforbes, I am arresting you for the murder of Miss Christine Fielding, and the suspected murder of Miss Aimee Maitland. You do not have to say anything, but if you do not…’
The words faded away into white noise.
Charlotte and Aimee; that was all I could focus on. Charlotte. Aimee. Dear God.
As they led me away, cuffed, for the second time in as many weeks, I cast a backwards glance at Grace. She was looking back at me, and I managed a smile. I hoped she’d understand from it that I was innocent, but she didn’t smile back. She only stared at me in horror, as I was dragged out the door.
Book 3
Disgraced
Coming soon
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Bad Grace. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to let others know via a review on your local Amazon, such as Amazon.com or Amazon UK.
For ARCs (advance review copies), release dates and launch offers, please join the Fan Mongers newsletter. Then, I can email you on release day so that you don’t miss out.
If you want to connect with me, I’m @AnnabelChant on Twitter, or you can find me on Facebook. I’d be excited to hear from you!
Once again, thanks for taking the time to read Bad Grace. Book 3 – Disgraced – will be out shortly.
Annabel x
Copyright
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2015 Annabel Chant
BAD GRACE
Copyright: Annabel Chant
Published: 24th August 2015
Publisher: Glitz City Press
The right of Annabel Chant to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, events or businesses are entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Stefanie at Beetiful Book Covers.
Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.annabelchant.com or @AnnabelChant.
Dedication
A huge debt of gratitude goes to those closest to me. I couldn’t have done it without your continued support.
Many thanks, also, to my wonderful beta-readers, Jane and Sheila. The fantastic feedback from neutral people continues to spur me on.
Finally, muchos besos to Frank Tayell (author of the Surviving the Evacuation series) for the photos and to Stella Wilkinson for her behind-the-scenes help (check out her Flirting Games YA series). Also to my author buddies in our Romance group for making writing a less lonely business. You rock.
About the Author
Annabel Chant has always loved reading and writing stories. She lives in village about half an hour from London, with her family, her dog and a vastly over-stuffed library that no one appreciates except for her.
She was seized one day with the idea for an erotic short story. She wrote the first pages, about a woman getting dressed up to go to meet a guy that called himself only The Filth Monger.
Then, she put it aside without ever looking at it again but, from that seed, this whole series developed.
She has lived in Nice and Belgium, as well as all over the UK. When she’s not writing, she enjoys nothing more than curling up with a steamy read.
Annabel also writes YA romantic comedies.
Contents
Blurb
Dear Reader,
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thirty One
Thirty Two
Thirty Three
Thirty Four
Thirty Five
Thirty Six
Thirty Seven
Thirty Eight
Thirty Nine
Forty
Forty One
Forty Two
Forty Three
Forty Four
Dear Reader,
Copyright
Dedication
About the Author
Contents