Beauty and the Billionaire Devil

“f**k!...Uhh… ahh! Mmmh!” Beauty couldn’t stop the moans slipping out. She had no business doing this. None. But her body didn’t care about reason. Her fingers were already moving, sliding against her slick skin, each touch sending her closer to that dangerous edge. It was reckless, shameless, but hell… what else was she supposed to do? The room was paid for, her ex was gone, and she refused to drown in heartbreak like some pitiful girl. If she couldn’t silence the betrayal in her head, then at least she could drown it in pleasure. A girl deserved one o****m after catching her boyfriend screwing her cousin on the eve of their graduation trip. So here she was, sprawled across the king-sized bed, one hand clutching the sheets, the other buried between her thighs, desperate to feel something… anything… that wasn’t grief. The air conditioner hummed low, but even that faded behind the wet sounds of her fingers and the harsh rhythm of her breath. “Ahh…ngh…!” she gasped, her back arching, lips parting as she drove her fingers faster. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, sweat dampening her skin despite the cold air. She wanted to lose herself in this, wanted to believe for just a second that she wasn’t broken, that her body wasn’t betraying her heart. But betrayal clung to her like a second skin. Her cousin’s laugh echoed inside her skull… high, careless, cruel. Her boyfriend’s voice, once warm and sweet, now low and guttural, groaning into another woman’s neck. Into her cousin’s neck. The memory burned her like acid, and yet… it made her hand move faster. “f**k!” she cried softly, nails digging into the mattress as if pain could ground her. She hated herself for this. For needing this. For moaning while tears prickled her lashes. But her body kept tightening, kept begging, and she couldn’t stop. Images wouldn’t leave her. Her cousin tangled in his arms, hair splayed on the very sheets she used to sleep in. His lips trailing down her throat, hands gripping her waist with a hunger he hadn’t shown her in months. “Ahhh! s**t!” Her moan cracked into the pillow. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that they were together, that they laughed like the world belonged to them, while she lay here alone, chasing release like some kind of addict. Her thighs trembled. Her belly tightened. Every thrust of her fingers dragged her closer to the peak she craved. “Mmhh… aaahhh!” she moaned louder, the sound breaking free despite her biting her lip. Her body was trembling, her mind a mess of fury and need, heartbreak and desire. She hated that betrayal turned into fuel for her release, hated that she wanted to scream his name and her cousin’s in rage while crying out her own in ecstasy. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. “God… seriously?” she groaned, fumbling blindly with her free hand, swiping at the glowing screen. Sandra. Her best friend. Of all times. She pressed answer, voice shaky. “H-Hello?” “Beauty?” Sandra’s voice chirped bright through the receiver. “Finally! I’ve been trying to reach you. Listen, the Venturi interview… they confirmed it’s next month. Monday morning, first slot. You need to…” “I know,” Beauty cut in quickly, her tone uneven, broken with gasps. “I heard you the first time.” Sandra paused. “Okay… then why do you sound like you’re running a marathon? You’re breathing so hard.” A teasing lilt crept into her voice. “Don’t tell me… you’re doing something naughty, are you?” Beauty bit her lip hard, stifling a cry. Her fingers curled deeper, wetter. A choked moan broke out anyway. “Uhh… ahh! Mmmh!” Sandra gasped, then burst into laughter. “No way. Beauty! You’re seriously…” “Shut up!” Beauty groaned, her voice breaking, her face hot with shame and defiance. “Just… f**k off, Sandra!” She stabbed the screen and tossed the phone aside before Sandra could say another word. Her whole body was on fire now. “God… ahhh!” Beauty cried out, burying her face into the pillow as her hips bucked against her own hand. Every nerve screamed, every sound from her lips louder, messier. “Fuuuck!” she moaned, her voice raw, torn between fury and release. Her toes curled. Her thighs shook. She was right there, seconds from spilling over. The room filled with her cries, shameless and rough. “Ahh… ahhh… ahhh!” Her breath came ragged. Her heartbeat slammed wild against her chest. She couldn’t stop now, even if she wanted to. Her body trembled harder, her free hand clawing at the sheets, dragging them toward her as though anchoring herself in the storm. And then… The door cracked open. The sharp creak sliced through her haze like a blade. Beauty froze, every muscle locking, her body quivering at the edge but denied the release. Her head snapped toward the sound, eyes wide. Footsteps followed… measured, calm, deliberate. The soft tap of polished shoes against the floor. She sat upright instantly, dragging the blanket half over herself in panic, breath catching hard in her throat. And then she saw him. Tall. Broad. Fresh-faced yet intimidating, with skin fair and clean, features sharp enough to steal air from the room. His suit was dark and immaculate, tailored perfectly across his chest and shoulders, every line screaming wealth and power. His hands rested casually in his pockets, his posture unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. And on his lips… A smirk. Cold. Dangerous. Not shock. Not embarrassment. No… he looked like a man who’d walked in on a hundred sins and judged them all beneath him. Beauty’s chest seized, her pulse slamming against her ribs. Heat from arousal clashed with the cold wave of humiliation flooding her veins. In a frenzy, she yanked the blanket higher, covering herself completely until only her flushed face peeked out. “What the f**k!!!” she screamed, her voice cracking in raw panic. The man didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. His smirk only curved deeper, his gaze steady, sharp, and unsettlingly calm as he leaned against the door frame. “Interesting way to spend your evening,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, almost amused. And Beauty’s world collapsed into mortification.