Twice Claimed: Bound by the Billionaire

Chapter Eight

“That’s right, that’s a good girl. I’m going to give you this c**k, and take control of your body.” He releases me, and the sudden distance between us makes me whimper again.

“Get on the bed,” he tells me. “Lie down, keep your knees up.”

Heart pounding, I do as he asks. I lay back on the enormous mattress, thighs open, my pose profane and sacred at the same time.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined, Sienna. I can’t wait to taste you.” He dips his dark head, and I feel his mouth on my p***y.

I moan as his tongue swirls against me, and his fingers plunge my depths. I close my eyes against the intense sensations, my fingers clutching the silk coverlet, light bursting behind my eyelids.

Suddenly his mouth is gone, replaced by his hand. I cry out as his fingers slide into me, creating a rhythm, thumb stroking my most sensitive part. My hips move of their own accord, chasing release.

“Not yet,” he tells me softly. “Almost. I want you to straddle my lap now, and ride my c**k. You’re ready. Your tight little p***y is so wet and eager.”

I somehow find the strength to sit up, entire body trembling, and he guides me onto him.

His c**k is long and thick, and hard as iron when he guides my hand to it. “Feel what you do to me,” he says thickly. “Feel how much I want you, Sienna.”

I run my fingers across the top and he hisses. “Now,” he says. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He adjusts me over his lap and plunges himself into me.

I moan and begin to sob at the sensations - the fullness in my p***y, the way he pounds into me, the feel of his hand against my chest, creating friction and heat.

His lips cover mine, devouring me, and I taste Scotch and the faintest hint of my own essence. I clutch his broad shoulders, riding him, slamming myself onto him over and over until it all becomes too much - I spiral into a haze of only pleasure and feeling. I can hear myself crying his name, feel tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Sienna,” I hear him shout and mutter an oath, his body rocking against me as he seeks his own orgasm. “God, yes. Sienna!”

He jerks against me, nearing completion.

And that’s when I hear - just barely - another name. One I now know well.

- ### -

Damian

Sienna is still trembling from exertion when I return to the bedroom. She’s sitting up, eyes shut.

“Here.” I wrap a warm blanket across her shoulders. “This will help. Now drink.” I hold a glass of water to her lips. Sienna obeys, quietly swallowing.

I wonder what she’s thinking as I place my arm around her, pulling her against my chest. Is she wondering about the man she’s married - who he really is?

Is she wondering why someone else’s name escaped my lips during a moment of passion?

I sigh. Noah. Always Noah. He’s like a specter who never stops haunting me.

“I’ll draw you a bath soon,” I tell her. “And I’ll help you wash. But first, you need to catch your breath.”

For a long moment, neither of us moves. The room’s gone quiet with the faint hum of the air conditioning. I feel her breathing slow beneath the blanket, her heartbeat finding a calm rhythm against my chest.

She looks fragile like this - dark hair tangled, lips swollen, skin marked with proof of me. And yet, she’s met me without flinching. Without hesitation. I hadn’t expected that. I hadn’t expected her.

I brush my thumb over the curve of her shoulder, not meaning to claim but to comfort. “Easy,” I murmur. “You did well, Sienna. Take your time now.”

Her eyelashes flutter, hazel gaze lifting to mine. There’s something searching there - curiosity, maybe. Or possibly wariness. She wants to know what I’m thinking.

But she doesn’t.