The Billionaire's Secret: Enemies to Lovers Fake Marriage Romance (Big Bad Billionaires Book 2)

by L. Steele

  "Damn you, Sir," I snarl.

  "Good girl." He drags his chin across my clit. I shudder. Omigod. That was… That is… Oh! He rubs his whiskered skin straight down my lower lips. My thighs spasm and my scalp tingles. Goosebumps pop across my skin. "Please, Saint."

  "You’ve got a choice now."

  "I do?"

  I sense him nod against my core. "You answer my questions correctly and I’ll let you come. Get them wrong and… Well… You’ll have to find out what happens then." He nips on my clit, I moan. Hell, this… This is torture. This is heaven. This, with his face between my thighs as he presses a soft kiss to my dripping cunt. As he licks up my cum from the inside of my thigh, then straightens to press his lips to mine. "Open."

  I oblige, and he slides his tongue inside my mouth. The taste of me, of him, of the lingering tang of the champagne, goes straight to my head.

  When he tears his mouth from mine, I sway toward him, seeking more, wanting more.

  "Saint," I huff, "Please, Sir, please."

  He laughs. "Do you hear yourself, little Gigi? You’re too greedy."

  "I’m not."

  "Yep, you are." The heat of his body recedes and a cry escapes my lips. I strain against my restrains. Reach out with my leg, feeling for him, searching for him.

  "Now. Now." He clicks his tongue. "I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?"

  I nod.

  "I’ll give you what you’re aching for, but first you need to answer a few questions."

  "What the fuck, Saint?" I cry out. "Another bloody riddle?"

  "You know I can’t live without them."

  "I thought you weren’t dependent on anything or anyone," I pout.

  "Indulge me on this one."

  "Like I have a choice?" I toss my head.

  "You do. Of course, you do."

  Not. He knows it. I know it. So why the bloody hell is he pretending otherwise?

  "Ask your stupid questions," I mumble.

  "You hungry?"

  "Is that the question?"

  "Yes."

  I pause, tilt my head. "Is this a trick? So help me, Saint, if it is—"

  He pops a cracker, topped with something savory, into my mouth. I crunch down. Flavors explode on my tongue. Yum. I crunch down the food. Then open my lips. "More."

  "First tell me what that was."

  "That’s what you want to know?"

  I sense him nod.

  Silence stretches. I run my tongue over my teeth, suck down the taste, "That was…hummus?"

  "Well done, Gigi."

  His footsteps thump on the carpet. Then another cracker is placed on my tongue. This one is slathered with something pungent, sharp, salty. The taste overwhelms me. I gulp it down, then scrunch up my face, "Ugh…" I grimace. "Was that…blue cheese?"

  "You didn’t like it?"

  "I hate aged cheese. It tastes like old shoe."

  "You’ve tasted old shoe?" I hear the smirk in his voice.

  "It smells like old socks. They’re similar in taste, right?"

  "Don’t know," he chuckles. "I’ve never tasted it myself. Open," he commands.

  I part my lips and he places another cracker in my mouth. "And this?"

  Complex textures—buttery, soft, creamy… I crunch down on the cracker and fresh taste envelops my taste buds. I swallow, smack my lips. "Burrata," I exclaim.

  "You weren't kidding. You do prefer fresh cheeses, hmm?"

  "I never lie when food is concerned," I sniff.

  "No, only when it’s real life."

  My shoulders droop; my face heats. "Damn you, Saint."

  "Yeah."

  There’s silence a beat, then another. I can’t hear him. Where is he? What is he doing?

  Something brushes against my lips; I open my mouth again, crunch down on what I assume is a cracker. Fire erupts on my tongue. "What the—?" I splutter. My eyes water. My mouth feels like it’s been doused in flames.

  "Here."

  The cool edge of glass is placed against my mouth. He holds the back of my head in place. "Drink up."

  I hesitate.

  "It’s water, Gigi. I am not completely insensitive.”

  Right. I chug down the icy liquid and the edge of the searing pain recedes.

  "What was that?" I gasp.

  "You tell me."

  I shake my head, "I barely tasted the food, you jerk."

  He chuckles. "Go on, bet you can take a guess."

  I set my jaw.

  He caresses my pussy, which instantly clenches. Hell, what am I doing? I hate him, yet I need him. I can’t stop my body from leaning into his touch. Push my pelvis forward, so more of his skin connects with mine. Bloody. Hell. "Why are you doing this?" I snarl. "Why can’t you simply fuck me and be done with it."

  He leans in close enough for his nose to bump mine. "Because that’s not what you want."

  "And you know what I want?"

  I sense him nod. "Of course. Why do you think I accepted your offer?"

  "Because you want to humiliate me?"

  "You mistake my intent." He clicks his tongue, "This was so you could find out more about your tastes."

  "That’s what you think this is?" I scoff. "You having my best interests at heart?"

  "Not really." He pauses. "I’m using you to get back at the men who changed my life and those of the Seven."

  “Has it occurred to you that they’re using me too?”

  Silence.

  "What…what did they do to you Saint?"

  He stiffens. Anger radiates off of him. I flinch.

  What the hell am I doing? Why did I ask him that? Is it because my eyes are bound? Is it because I can’t see him, that I am so tuned into him that I can discern the imperceptible edge of fear—helplessness even—that bleeds from him? Nah, that’s my imagination. There is not an ounce of weakness about this man. Not only am I unable to see, but my remaining senses have been fooled by him as well.

  "It’s fine," I swallow. "Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know."

  "You giving up so easily?" His hard voice whips through my head.

  I straighten. "Giving up?" I allow a smile to curve my lips. "I haven’t made it this far by losing hope. It’s the only thing I have to cling to." And you? What about you? Why do I want to lean on you? What insanity is this, that even bound and blindfolded, knowing he can do anything to me, I trust him…to play with my body any which way he wants?

  That’s all this is—a carnal need for him to possess me, break me, show me how it can be between a woman and a man. So what, if there aren’t any emotions involved? It’ll make it easier for me to lure him to whatever… Whatever it is that the Mafia has planned for him. I don’t care what happens after that. I don’t. As long as they free my friend. That’s all this is about. It doesn’t matter that my heart will be shattered by the end. I’ll find a way to go on. I always do. I tip up my chin, "Chili pepper."

  "What?" He sounds surprised.

  "That was a five-spice sauce."

  "You’re right."

  He pauses, then tears the blindfold from my eyes. I blink. His face comes into focus. "So…you’ll untie me now?"

  He scratches his chin.

  I frown. "The deal was, if I got the answers right you would—"

  "I would...?"

  An understanding sinks into my mind. "You… You…"

  "I’ll…?" he prompts.

  "You’ll let me come?" I train my gaze on his face. Please. Please say, yes. Please.

  He shakes his head.

  I stare.

  "I changed my mind," he smirks.

  "What?" That familiar anger thrums up my spine. My blood thuds at my temples and my heartbeat ratchets up.

  He steps to the cart, scoops up some of that last spicy dip onto his cracker, then pops it in his mouth. Color sears his cheeks, then he reaches for more of the Champagne and washes it down. "Whew, you weren’t kidding there. It is hot."

  "You…you horrible man."

  He chuck
les.

  "You can’t do this to me."

  He cuts off a slice of cheese—not the blue cheese, something else that looks like cheddar?—and bites into it. His jaws move. He tips the bottle of Champagne up, then chugs down more liquid. The strong column of his throat flexes as he swallows it down. Why the hell does he have to look sexy, doing something as simple as eating? He reaches for a strawberry, is about to pop it into his mouth then stops.

  "Do you like strawberries, Gigi?"

  "What?"

  He frowns, "Answer the question."

  Class-A wanker. That’s what he is. A douchebag of the first order. A bloody, horrendous brute of a man who…hides a hurt that is eating away at him from the inside. I blink. Shit, I don’t need flashes of insight about his character… That will only elicit empathy for him. Am I looking for a spark of redemption in this guy? No, that would only make what I have to do to him so much worse.

  I purse my lips and he scowls, "Yes or No?"

  Shit, nothing is simple with this guy, is it? He is so…so…complicated.

  He glares at me and I shiver. My scalp tingles and my toes curl. Oh, shit, this…is not going to end well. Not at all. "Yes," I croak. "I… I love strawberries."

  "So do I." His eyes twinkle , "Especially when they’re soaked in your cum." He steps around, then drops to his knees between my still-parted legs.

  29

  Saint

  * * *

  I press the fruit into the opening of her pussy. She inhales. I drag the strawberry up her dripping cunt, then bring it to my mouth. I bite into the fruit and the tart, tangy, fruity taste bursts on my tongue. Laced with it, is the sugary sweet taste of her cum. My dick tents my pants and my vision tunnels. Fuck. I need more. Much more. More of this, more of her essence. I swallow the rest of the fruit, toss away the stem, then reach for another strawberry. They are now my favorite fruit ever. I fit the fruit in the opening of her channel. Her entire body shudders. "Saint," she breathes.

  Yeah, I know exactly how she’s feeling.

  I scoop up more of her juices, bite off the entire fruit. The tastes fill my senses, go to my head. The world tilts. Fuck. What is she doing to me? Dropping the stem, I snatch up another of the berries. I slide it into her wet pussy.

  She groans.

  "How does it feel?" my voice cracks. I swallow. Shit, this entire experience is getting to me. I set out to show her I could have my way with her; turns out, I am the one at her mercy. Starved for her taste, addicted to her scent. Needing to wallow in her gorgeous essence, mark her with my cum. Stake my claim on her before this—whatever it is between us— comes to an end.

  "Tell me, Gigi." I press the berry deeper into her sweet cunt.

  "It… it," her voice shakes, "It makes me want more. So much more. I want to taste it." She gulps, "Please… Sir."

  Her words sink into my blood, race straight to my belly and coil in my gut. Fuck this. I slip the strawberry out, then rise up to my feet and offer it to her, "Eat it."

  She takes a bite, chews and swallows. Her gaze grows heavy. Her cheeks flush.

  "Well?" I frown. "How does it taste?"

  "Sexy." Her blush deepens. "I mean…it…tastes like nothing I’ve ever eaten before."

  I crunch on the rest of the fruit, toss away the stem. "Want more?"

  She nods.

  I scoop up another. Reaching between us, I roll the fruit in the cum that trails down her inner thigh. I bite on it, offer her the rest. Take another strawberry, stroke it up her pussy.

  Her legs buckle. I grip her shoulder to support her. Offer the fruit to her, then eat the rest. I repeat it with another berry, then another. My breathing deepens and sweat beads my spine. My mouth waters; my dick lengthens. I reach for the next berry, but when I press it to her cunt, she groans, "I can’t… I want..." She arches her spine, pushes the back of her head into my chest.

  She parts her lips and I pop the strawberry in. She tears off half of it. I bite down on the other half, chew and swallow, then go in for seconds. I press my lips to hers, lick up the tangy taste of the berry, the sweetness of her mouth, the complex notes of her cum. My dick throbs and a pulse beats to life on my eyelids, at my temples, even in my fucking balls. I toe off my shoes, then reach down, shove down my zipper, then my pants and my briefs; kick them aside. I grab my dick, position it between her arsecheeks. The head of my weeping cock, nudges against her back hole.

  I bring my fingers around to the front, slip them inside her cunt. Her pussy clamps down on me. I groan, "Fuck, you’re so ready for me. Can you feel that?"

  "Saint." She turns her head, licks the side of my jaw. Another ripple of pleasure tears down my spine. A pressure builds in my groin. I push forward, until my dick is inside her puckered hole. A whine slips from her lips. "It’s too much," she gasps.

  "Not enough." I bring my other hand around, insert my thumb into her mouth. She bites down on my digit, and I feel the pull all the way down to my shaft.

  "Gigi, fuck," I groan, "I need to be inside of you."

  "Then do it." She nuzzles my cheek. "Take me. Come inside me."

  "What?"

  "Do it the right way," she whispers.

  "It has to be this way." I growl.

  "It doesn’t have to be like this," she pleads.

  "You worried that it will hurt?" My thighs spasm and my cock lengthens inside of her.

  She gasps, a bead of sweat running down her temple, "Not me, but I think you’re not ready to face whatever is between us."

  I frown. "And what’s that, exactly?"

  "You pretend not to feel anything, but the fact is..." she peers up at me from under her sooty eyelashes, "...fact is that you sense the connection, how attracted you are to me, and it worries you."

  "Me?" I snort. "Sweetheart, the only thing you should be worried about is how much of me you can take inside of you." I angle my hips and my shaft slips in through her tight ring.

  She gasps. A growl rips from me. I grit my teeth, stay where I am. Stay. Stay. I set my jaw so hard, pain shoots up my face. "Fuck," I snarl. "You’re fucking beautiful."

  "And you’re a fucking coward."

  The drumming at my temple intensifies. A tightness pushes down on my ribcage. Sweat pours down my spine until my shirt sticks to my back. Fucking with her is primal, angry, visceral…a messy coalescence of our combined body fluids, of lust and caution, a need to subdue and suppress, a primal urge to own, to mate. To push myself and her to the edge where nothing else remains. Not our pasts, not her betrayal, not the way I have to use her for my own selfish ends. Not the sensual way she rubs against me, the curve of her hips pressed into the hard bones of my pelvis. Not how she strains against her restraints, her face buried into my neck as she licks the sweat that clings to my skin, as I pull out of her so suddenly that she whines.

  "Fuck me, Saint, please."

  "I am going to slap your pussy until you cry, spank your arse so my fingerprints are etched into your memory, choke you while you suck on my dick." I search her features, "Do you want that?"

  She nods.

  "I'll plug your mouth with my tongue, as my fingers cram your spasming back hole, and crush you under the weight of my intention. Then I'll screw you until you scream my name and ask me to let you come, and even then, I will not. Not until every part of you has been stamped with my essence, my name written on every cell of your body... until your breath is mine, your heartbeat mirroring my urgency as I thrust into you again and again... Until you beg for release."

  Her breath hitches.

  "And even then, I won't let you come... You willing to play this game with me, Gigi?

  She nods

  "Good girl."

  Reaching up, I untie her restraints. She pulls back her arms. I flip her around, hook my hands under her thighs, lift her up and into the pillar. She winds her long legs around my waist

  I bend my knees, peer into her eyes. "You sure?" I growl.

  "You having second thoughts?" she huffs.

&nb
sp; I twist my lips, "You on birth control?"

  "You think I’m lying?"

  She meets my gaze, green eyes clear, the smooth, unfurled calm of the surface of a lake, just before I dive into the depths. Cool, peaceful, everything I’ve searched for. Every damn slice of heaven I’ve wanted. I am going to hell, and I am taking her with me.

  Her pupils dilate until the black seems to bleed out, leaving only a circle of green at the edges.

  "I dare you." She smiles, a beautiful curve of her lips that punches me straight in the gut.

  "Fuck you, Gigi."

  I piston my hips forward and drive inside her.

  She screams, "No, no, no," and throws her head back against the pillar.

  "What the actual fuck?" I look down to where we are connected.

  Her pussy clenches down on my cock, even as she digs her fingernails into my shoulders. It can’t be. Can it? The world ebbs and flows around me. My leg muscles spasm and my fingers grow numb. I glare at her face, "Tell me it’s not fucking true, Victoria."

  "I am...was a virgin," She swallows, her face pale, then tips up her chin. "So what? It was an inconvenience."

  "You used me?" I begin to pull out.

  She snarls, buries her heels into the backs of my hips. "Don’t you dare!" she cries out.

  "Don’t tell me what to do," I glare at her.

  She throws her arms around my shoulders, leans in close. "You’re a coward," she whispers in my ears.

  "It won’t work," I laugh. "You’re trying to goad me on, hoping to make me lose control, I—

  She bites the side of my neck. Buries her teeth until she breaks skin. Goosebumps pop on my skin. The pain thrums across my nerve endings and my cock hardens even further inside her. "Jesus," I swear. "You’re a hellion."

  She pulls back, a drop of blood—my blood—glistening on her lips.

  "And it turns you on." Her eyes gleam.

  I snarl, grip her thighs so hard that she winces. But she doesn’t back down. I’m marking her. She’ll have marks where I held her—so? This is what I set out to do, didn’t I? Claim her?

  "Damn right, it does. You’re going to regret this." I draw in a sharp breath, and the scent of her arousal—hot, pungent, with the lingering scent of strawberries, blurring with the faint hint of copper—fuck—it crowds in on me, pushes down on my chest. Shoves at me, urges me on... Further, further. "Fuck you, Gigi; and fuck me." Oh, wait. I’d been fucked since the day the Seven and I had had our lives irreversibly changed by the incident.