Cutting my eyes at him, I do exactly as he says.
Now, he's kneeling on the carpet, spreading my legs apart. Big, hot palms voyage across my skin and his soft lips follow the path. Then, he's stroking my clit, kissing my folds, driving me wild. Cannon is putting in work but I'm the one panting hard, sweating.
This feels amazing.
I focus on the pleasure so I can avoid the fact that I'm scared, terrified. I have no right to be in this man's bed. Tomorrow, we'll exchange counterfeit vows and he'll become my fake husband. Fucking him tonight really isn't the brightest idea I've ever had.
He looks up from where he's kneeling and when our eyes meet, he gives me the most self-satisfied smirk I've ever seen. "On your knees, Stormy. Let me eat that pretty pussy from behind."
"Now, that's the kind of order I can obey." In an instant, I'm on my belly, ass in the air.
With renewed motivation, he dives back in, face buried in my ass. Licking and stroking and groaning into my folds until my spine is arching and I'm fisting the sheets at the height of my orgasm.
Violent aftershocks of pleasure pulse through my limbs and my chest heaves with labored breaths.
A gentleman would give me a second to recover but Cannon Kingston is no gentleman. He's a bastard.
He flips me over like a pancake and grabs a condom from his bedside drawer as he climbs over me. He slides on the condom and takes a second to grin in my face. "You're so pretty when you're horny and compliant."
I hook an arm around his neck and yank him in for a kiss as my pussy swallows him to the hilt. I moan. "Shut up and fuck me, asshole."
And god, it's a tight fit. He's so big. Thick and long and so, so hard. He pumps into me. Smooth, long thrusts. Taking his time. Luxuriating. Enjoying my every whimper and moan as he tugs on my hair.
Overwhelmed, I close my eyes. For something so wrong, it feels so right, so right, so right.
I know I'm going to fall for him, I know I'm going to regret it. But when it comes to this guy, I can't help myself. Where he's concerned, my good sense fails me every time.
Now, he's moving faster, hitting deeper, going harder. I'm groaning. Louder and louder, begging him not to stop.
It's official. I'm screwed. I'm addicted to everything this man does.
His hand smooths up the front of my throat and tips my chin up. He growls near my ear. "Open your eyes, Stormy. I want you looking at me when I make you come."
His thumb finds my clit in a smooth back and forth motion. He fucks me harder now. A hot gush of arousal pours out of my pussy. "Oh shit," I groan.
He smirks. "What is it, darling?" He asks sweetly as his thumb works faster.
"Just make me come, you sadist." The only reason I'm not strangling him right now is because I want this orgasm more than anything.
He grabs my hips for leverage. He bares down. That move unleashes the orgasm. Wave after hot, rippling wave of pleasure washing over me.
He leans down to kiss me, to swallow my moans while pouring his sexy sounds into me.
He's coming too. His muscles tense under my fingertips, his breathing hitches. I watch in awe as pleasure ripples through the big, powerful body hunched above me. I never realized he could be even more handsome but in this vulnerable moment, he is.
We lie immobile, side by side. A little voice reminds me that I need boundaries if this fake relationship is going to stay fake.
I blink up at the vaulted ceiling, waiting for a rush of common sense to crash into me, to shove me out of this bed, out of this house.
It never comes.
Even more troubling? When Cannon rolls over and lazily wraps an arm around my waist while kissing my spine, I don't get up and run, screaming. Instead, I sink deeper into his hold and drift off into an easy sleep.
At three in the morning, I wake up in a strange room, on a massive bed that's softer than a cloud. I'm nose to nose with a sexy, gorgeous, naked super villain who makes my girlie bits flutter. And I realize, to my horror, that my heart is fluttering, too.
Fuck. This is wrong.
This wasn't part of our agreement. If I allow myself to indulge in his rockhard body and his butter-soft kisses, I'll only end up hurt.
Mournfully, I untangle my limbs from his and roll to the edge of the mattress.
Just as I'm about to swing my feet to the floor and make my great escape, his arm tightens around my belly. He flings his leg around my waist. His voice is groggy and thick with sleep. "Get your beautiful ass back here, Stormy. I'm a spooner."
And just like that, my hot-off-the-presses decision to run away from this man goes poof! and a second later his light snores and my loud doubts fill my head.
24
Lexi
If I get married one day, you have to do my flowers, too.” Jessa spins around with my bouquet, humming to the quiet music wafting from the speakers. It's like she's reenacting a scene from The Sound of Music. “I can’t get over how perfect these look.”
Iris grins up at my sister from where she's arranging a small basket of rose petals for Callie, my little flower girl. Meanwhile, Penny is across the room, giving my wedding gown one final steam.
Since I’m getting married on the rooftop in a couple hours, we’re all sardined into the back of the bridal boutique. Having my girls here, fawning all over the place and tending to my every need, is the only typical part of my wedding day.
I never imagined I'd be marrying a billionaire. I never imagined the wedding would be all for show. I never imagined I'd be saying my vows all while fully aware of the ticking clock looming above the relationship.
Yet, here I am getting ready to walk down the aisle to a man who doesn't love me, a man who fucked me senseless just last night.
“Are you tossing your bouquet afterward?” Miss Lucille asks while poking me in the scalp with another bobby pin. The woman is like a bobby pin ninja. Bless her heart for taking on the task of wrangling my her into order in this humidity. I’ve been sitting here an hour already, and my ass is officially numb.
“I don’t know. Maybe?” When planning a quickie wedding with only a week's notice, certain small details tend to fall through the cracks, I guess.
Penny gives me a cautious look. "I don't know if a bouquet toss is the best idea. We're gonna be on a rooftop, after all."
Jessa sniffs the flowers and sighs. "I'd go headfirst over the safety railing to catch these beauties. Especially if it raises my chance of finding my own Prince Charming."
"I'd hardly call Cannon Kingston Prince Charming," Iris mutters. She perches on the edge of the counter and gives me a concerned look.
Jessa giggles. "Okay, he's a bit of an asshole. But assholes need love, too."
"Assholes need love the most," Miss Lucille says sagely. "But never at the price of your own self-respect." The cringe on her face tells me that was a hard-earned lesson for her. She's not fully on-board with this whole marriage thing. I can tell she's been biting her tongue.
Jessa gently sets the bouquet into a vase of water. “Call me naive but I still think that Lexi and her rich prince could fall in love and live happily ever after.” She pops a kiss against my cheek and twirls off on a cloud of cotton candy and whatnot.
A week ago, I would have laughed at my sister's wishful thinking. But today…my heart is more open to the possibility. Because despite my rough edges, I do believe in happily ever afters like all girls do. Maybe I could have my moment, too. With Cannon Kingston.
If I’ve learned anything this week, it’s that Cannon and I have undeniable chemistry. As soon as he’s within touching distance, my body knows it. And the things we did to each other last night? Well, let’s just say I didn’t tell the girls about that. I know I shouldn't be withholding the juicy bits from my friends but all these feelings are new. I need time to sit with them.
I won’t admit how many times I’ve thought about Cannon’s lips, his hands, his cock. I won’t talk about how much he tasted like desperation and hunger, about how he moved with ur
gency and passion. Or, how much I want to feel him again.
My stomach buzzes at the realization that I will. In just a short time, I’ll be his lawfully-wedded wife and he’ll be putting his mouth on me again.
Iris comes closer and keeps her voice low. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this, Lexi? You can still walk away.”
My friend has finally explained why she’s been so hostile toward Cannon. Apparently, she and his younger brother, Jude, were sort of rivals in college. The few times that Cannon hung around in their circle, he didn’t leave a favorable impression. Not that hard to believe since the man usually makes a point of being a bastard. Anyway, the fact that he doesn’t even seem to remember her years later has cemented my friend’s resentment toward him.
“I’m sure. I’ll be fine.” I say it with a smile. A smile I hope is convincing. Beneath the surface, my nerves are brittle and raw. I’m charging blindly into unknown territory with this marriage.
“You’re not doing this just for me, are you? I couldn’t live with that.” Concern mars her beautiful face.
“I mean, partially. But not just you. Me. You. Your mom. This whole town.” Cannon. "We're all going to benefit from this arrangement. I know this is the right decision."
“Would you hate me if I didn’t open the sandwich shop back up?”
“What?! Why?” My surprise sends my head rearing back. Miss Lucille yanks on a chunk of my hair to scold me. Ouch!
“I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past couple weeks, and it just doesn't feel right. My cash flow is really low anyway, and I have some other business ideas I want to explore. The sandwich shop was my dream when I was a married woman, but now…I picture my future differently.”
I want to hug my girl, but her mom will smack me with a hair brush if I move again. Instead, I reach out and grab Iris’s hand. “Don’t feel bad. I get it. You need a new…you.”
The bell dings from the front of the shop, signalling that someone has come through the door. Penny dashes off to check, and in a moment, she’s escorting an older gentleman into the room. He’s smartly dressed and has a complete head of gray hair. Uneasiness crawls up my spine at the sight of him.
“Ms. Robson?” the man asks, looking straight at me.
“Present.” Who is this guy? God, I hope he's not the fake marriage police, here to throw my ass in jail for marriage fraud or something like that.
He has a tight smile when he approaches me. He offers me his hand to shake. “I’m Cannon’s attorney, Frank Lawman. Can I get a word with you?"
I'm not sure if knowing the man's identity makes me feel any better. Slowly, I rise from my seat, my friends all focused on me. "Of course." I walk down the short hallway to my messy office and he follows me.
Once I've closed the door, he speaks. "I'm here to collect your signed paperwork.”
My brain short wires. “Paperwork?”
The old man lowers his voice. “The prenuptial agreement and NDA, ma’am.”
My stomach knots and any delusions of a happy ending for Cannon and me go pop-pop-pop.“Oh. Right. Those.”
I bend into my desk drawer and collect the documents I signed a few days ago. Some of the pages are a little wrinkled from my pouring over them again and again. “You sure used some big words in there,” I laugh nervously to disguise the fact that I'm in over my head.
The lawyer doesn’t laugh along.
With shaky hands, I flip through the pages one last time hoping I haven't overlooked some fine print where I inadvertently pledge my left lung to my fake husband should the need arise. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering as I quickly review the terms.
No sexual or romantic relationships with third parties during the course of my marriage. No financial entitlements aside from the compensation explicitly agreed to before the wedding ceremony. And in big, bold font, as though it’s the most important section of the paperwork…When this is all over, both parties are bound to keep their mouths shut and peacefully walk away.
The language of the prenup is so ugly. Like a dirty accusation. Like I'm nothing but a low golddigger trying to scheme my way into some rich boy's trust fund.
It's downright insulting. I didn't initiate any of this. I was just living my life, trying to run my business and spend time with my friends. But this is the corner I've found myself backed into.
All these damn legal documents just serve to remind me of the power imbalance in our situation. I really am at my groom-to-be's mercy. It's downright insulting. And more than anything, it's another flashing warning not to let my guard down with this guy.
It’s a not-so-subtle reminder that I have no future with Cannon Kingston. This isn’t the happy ending I now find myself craving. It’s a business deal and I have to accept that despite what my heart wants.
This is so dangerous.
The scales of power in this situation are tipped sharply in Cannon's favor. He has the money. He has the options. He has the high-priced lawyer who looks like he could burn down my life with a few quick strokes of his expensive pen.
Satisfied that spousal organ donation isn't one of the terms of the agreement, I hand over both stacks of documents to my fake fiance’s lawyer.
He hands me a check.
True to his word, Cannon has dropped a huge chunk of change on this deal. Yet somehow, I've never felt so cheap.
"I can't say I've ever been in this position before," the man mumbles awkwardly, seeming at a loss for the polite thing to say as he slides the paperwork into his briefcase. "Best wishes on your wedding day...?"
I nod, giving him an A for effort. He walks out, leaving me with an achy feeling in my chest.
So much for fairytales.
25
Cannon
I never put much thought into my wedding day. I guess most guys don't. But now that the moment is here, my nerves are beating me like a motherfucker. Of all the feelings I’d anticipated, being scared shitless was not one of them. My chest is pounding so hard. I can feel a thousand anxious thoughts throbbing inside my head.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I stand at the makeshift altar on the rooftop above the bridal shop. My eyes scan over the crowd. There are more people than I expected to see today, despite our efforts to keep this small. In the groom’s section, there are my parents, Walker, and best of all, my grandfather. The people who matter most to me. Well, most of them. I know I said I didn't care who shows up but it feels a little odd that my other two brothers aren't here. I'm feeling the absence of Jude and Eli.
Meanwhile, Lexi’s section is overflowing—of course it is, given how popular she is around town—many of them I recognize as the people I evicted.
Not awkward at all.
She wasn’t exaggerating when she talked about the other business owners. She really cares for each and every one of these individuals, and it’s clear they support her, too. All of Crescent Harbor loves the woman. And as I'm standing here on this rooftop overlooking the town, the idea that I could fall a little bit in love with her doesn't seem so farfetched anymore. Maybe, some way this fake marriage could lead to real feelings.
Why the hell not? Everything about Alexia Robson feels made for me. Never have I met a woman who could take my bullshit and meet me blow for blow. And the way her body feels under my hands, the way her lips meld with mine makes me second guess myself.
I try hard to not feel like a fraud up here. With Walker and my father’s dark gazes on me, it’s hard to ignore the fact that I’m lying to everyone. I try to focus on Ma’s eager smile instead.
The gentle sounds of a harp fill the air, and my pulse races. Jessa accompanies Callie down the small aisle. My niece beams at Lexi’s sister as she sprinkles the carpet with flower petals. I smile at the sight. Callie might be a tiny mischievous monkey most days, but today, she’s on her best behavior.
The unmistakable sound of the traditional wedding march commences, signaling that my bride is next to follow. Moments move by in sort of a slow,
watery blur. Lexi appears at the other end of the aisle. She looks like a dream in white silk and lace. The crowd gasps at the sight of her but she can't take her eyes off of me. I can’t take my eyes off of her, either.
At first, her expression is guarded, like she's having second thoughts, like she might back out at the last minute. But then I give her a smile and I'm sure that all the raw emotions coursing through me bleed out onto my face. Fuck, I'm scared too, I'm anxious, I'm nervous. Still, I know there's no one else I'd rather see at the foot of that aisle wearing my mother's wedding dress.
Her gaze is tentative. Then she breathes deep and she lets go. A smile spreads like beautiful wings across her face. It lights me up from the inside out and all the things I was worried about a second ago disappear. She glides down the aisle with such grace but I still see wild flickers of mischief in her big, blue eyes.
I’ve never wanted anyone so badly. This woman is dangerous for me.
When she reaches me, I twist my fingers with hers. I’m dying to touch every inch of her, but for now, I’ll settle for her hands. Even those have the power to burn me. We exchange vows and rings in front of my family and her friends, and for the first time today, I don’t have an ounce of guilt. Right now, Lexi is mine, and that’s all that matters.
When the pastor finally pronounces us husband and wife, I yank her into my arms and hold her flush against my pounding heart. Her shiny, babydoll stare tells me she feels my lust for her lengthening along her stomach. I smirk at our little secret.
Then, I fucking claim her.
Right there in front of everyone, I take her mouth with mine and I kiss her like I mean every vow, every promise I just made.
She pulls out of the kiss and grins up at me with perfectly smudged lipstick. "If we don’t stop making out up here at the altar, someone's going to call the fire department to pry us apart."
Sassy thing. Chuckling, I smack her ass.
An hour later, as we’re swaying together under the twinkling string lights at our reception, I hold her body snug against mine as we move to the sound of Michael Bublé. I don’t even care that the couples dancing around us are staring. This thing with Lexi may have started out as a strict business agreement, but I’ve never felt something so real in my life.
Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 1) Page 13