Dirty Pleasures (The Dirty Billionaire Trilogy #2) Page 5

  Once again, I dissect Creighton’s words carefully. What he isn’t saying is coming through just as strongly.

  “Do these alternative tactics have something to do with me, or us getting married?”

  Creighton’s chest lifts and falls on a breath. “He’s finding some ammunition in that, yes.”

  I’m actually surprised by his candid answer. I expected him to dodge the question altogether.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Unlike a few minutes earlier, I’m not being sassy in the slightest. If there’s something I can do to help, I will—and not just because Creighton’s name being dragged through the mud now means that my name is being muddied as well.

  “I’ll figure it out.” He looks at me. “But thanks.”

  I start to shrug but it turns into a yawn. “Just holler if there’s anything you think of.”

  Creighton studies me. “You’re tired.”

  It’s not a question, but I reply anyway. “Yeah, first show after a break. It’s easy to forget how exhausting it is. Not to mention the rehearsal, sound check, meet and greet, and everything else.”

  “Then I guess you should call it a night.”

  “I need to be in Dallas by noon for a radio interview. I hope that’s not an issue.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “Not an issue. It’s a quick flight. We’ll be there in plenty of time.”

  “Okay then.” I push the chair back from the desk and stand, tugging the belt of the robe tighter and staring at my silver-polished toenails. I glance up at Creighton. “I guess I’ll just be going to bed.”

  I take a hesitant step toward the bedroom, waiting for him to grab me by the belt, yank me against his chest, and growl something about me forgetting about his dessert.

  But he does none of those things. Instead, I’m treated to an absent nod.

  “I’ll try not to disturb you. I’ve got a few hours’ worth of work ahead of me.”

  Really, Creighton? Really? After your orders to strip earlier? I give him a moment to change his mind. He doesn’t. Okay, then.

  “No problem. I sleep like the dead. Nothing wakes me. Comes from three months of sleeping on a bus with a bunch of snoring men.”

  Creighton’s features tense, obliterating his previously relaxed expression. “That’s changing tomorrow too. Your new bus will be waiting after the concert.”

  My mouth starts moving before my mind can tell it to shut up. “That’ll be great. I won’t have to worry about keeping my orgasms silent anymore.”

  The corners of Creighton’s mouth curl into a crooked smirk. He pushes off the desk and closes the distance between us.

  “No, Holly, that certainly won’t be an issue anymore. In fact, I’ll have a hell of a problem if you aren’t moaning for me tomorrow night on that bus.”

  I can’t keep up with the man’s moods, but it’s the smirk that does me in. I shiver at his words as they whisper over me. My hand, which seemingly develops a will of its own, reaches for the button of his jeans.

  And . . . his fucking cell rings again.

  I drop my hand. “I guess that means I’m going to bed alone, then.”

  He reaches for his phone, checking the screen. “If I didn’t have to take this call . . .”

  I shrug. “I could use the extra sleep anyway. They’ll want to do photos at the radio station, so I need to look like I could pass as a chart-topper.”

  Creighton slides his finger across the screen of his phone, and I turn away.

  “Hold on a minute, please.”

  I pause, not knowing if he’s speaking to me or the person on the phone. Peeking over my shoulder, I see him slide the phone onto the desk and step toward me. He tucks his hand in the belt of my robe and tugs me toward him in the exact move I envisioned only minutes ago.

  “I’m taking a rain check on my dessert,” he says, and slants his mouth over mine.

  I open to him and his tongue delves inside, tasting my mouth so deliciously that my thighs squeeze together, and I can feel the slickness growing between my legs. Cupping the back of my head, he grips my hair and tilts me the opposite direction, not wasting a breath as the kiss deepens and intensifies. I’m lost in the moment when he releases his grip on me.

  Standing in stunned silence, I stare as he picks up his phone, unmutes it, leans back against the desk, and begins speaking.

  “Give it to me,” he says into the phone, but I feel like his words are directed at me.

  A small smile forms on my lips, and I reach for the belt of my robe and slowly untie it. I let the plush terrycloth fall open and lift my hand to rest between my breasts.

  I’m not sure what little devil is guiding me, but I’m sure one must be.

  Creighton’s eyes zero in on my hands as he listens—or attempts to listen—to whoever is on the other end of the call.

  Now that I have his attention, I skim my fingers down my body until they spread and cover my pussy. Just thinking the word always makes me hotter.

  His dark eyes burn into me, and I can tell he’s stopped even attempting to listen to a damn thing that’s being said. I love that I have the power to distract him like this, even as I wonder what the heck I’m doing. It’s as if I need to prove to myself that I have something he wants. Maybe I’m seeking some kind of validation?

  I don’t question what I’m feeling. I just go with it.

  I dip two fingers between my lips and swirl them in the wetness that has gathered. A push of my wrist, and I slip both fingers inside me. Moaning, I let my eyes flutter shut for a beat before sliding my fingers in and out.

  Oh. Lord.

  I open my eyes again—just in time to see Creighton’s lips form a single silent word.

  “Fuck.”

  My smile feels lazy and seductive as I continue to tease myself. I slide my fingers up, flicking my clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through myself. I think for a second about just making myself come, but decide to savor the anticipation and lift my hand away.

  I step toward Creighton.

  Reaching my fingertips to his full lips, I paint them with my wetness. His tongue darts out to lick, grabbing my wrist with both hands and sucking my fingers into his mouth.

  After he’s drawn every bit of slickness from my skin, he releases my fingers and growls into the phone, “I’ll call you back.”

  He drops the phone to the carpet, and his feral expression turns on me. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  I smile, the flush of victory heating my cheeks. I stunned him. Who knew that could happen?

  And then he says, “You’re going to go bend over the end of the bed, spread your legs, and I’m going to spank that tight little ass and your naughty little cunt before I fuck you so hard, you’ll still be feeling me tomorrow when you step onstage.”

  The flush of heat spreads to my chest, my nipples pucker painfully tight, and my inner muscles clench.

  Stunned?

  I guess it’s my turn.

  I prowl after Holly as she turns and heads for the bedroom. My cock pulses against my zipper, and if Cannon faults me for hanging up on him, he can go straight to hell.

  Because I’ve just learned a valuable lesson—there is something more important than business, and she’s letting the white terrycloth robe dip across her back as it slides down her arms, revealing the most perfect ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

  I planned to go slow. To tease her. To savor this. To watch her follow my instructions to the letter. But instead, I surge forward and cup her ass in both hands. She’s standing in front of the bed, and I push her forward until she’s bent over it.

  “You have no idea how badly I just want to slide inside this perfect ass.” My lips skim her ear, and she shivers.

  “Do it¸” she whispers.

  A smile stretches across my face. “Oh, Holly, haven’t you figured out yet that you don’t get to give the orders here? Don’t you remember the rules?”

  She shoves her ass back, as if trying to tempt me to stray from my plan.

  “You know you want to,” she says, louder this time.

  I step back, releasing my hold on her. “I think I’ve been too lax in making sure you understand who calls the shots here. You’ve more than earned your punishment, you dirty girl, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of giving it to you.”

  She turns her head to the side, her cheek resting on the crisp white sheets. Her brown eyes spark with challenge, and a pink flush of arousal colors her cheekbone and neck. I want to see that pink blush on her ass.

  My hand swings and connects under the curve of her right cheek with a sharp smack. Holly inhales sharply and moans, her hips pressing into the bed.

  I land another strike in the same place on the opposite side, and her moan grows louder. My handprint blooms reddish-pink on her skin, and this time I groan.

  “Goddamn. You look so fucking sexy with my marks on you. Get up on the bed. On your knees. Now.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, but complies immediately. I’ll reward her for that . . . soon. But right now, I need to give her more of this.

  I pepper her skin with smack after smack. Her back is arched, ass thrusting up at me as if begging for more.

  I slip my hand between her legs and stroke.

  “So fucking wet, baby. Give me your hand.”

  She turns her head to look back at me, confusion creasing her forehead.

  “You’re going to finger-fuck that tight little pussy while I watch because I want a replay of that sexy-as-fuck show you put on for me. If you thought you were just going to tease me, you were wrong. I’m going to stroke my cock until I finish between those perfect lips of yours, and then you’re going to take me down your throat until I’m hard enough
to fuck your naughty cunt.”

  Her mouth drops open and my dick surges, wanting inside that hot, wet heaven.

  “I haven’t had nearly enough of that dirty little mouth of yours. Now put that hand on your pussy and show me how you make yourself come.”

  She lets out a breathy, “Oh my God,” before she faces forward once more and follows my instructions. I cup her ass and give her one more sharp slap for her delay before reaching for the button of my jeans.

  I don’t even have my zipper down yet, and her fingers are buried inside her pussy. Gripping my dick, I squeeze it tight. But the moans and whimpers and bobbing of Holly’s ass have precum already dripping from the tip. I reach between her legs and pull her hand away.

  “I need some of this.” Dipping my hand into her wetness, I coat my palm before telling her to continue. I start to stroke, my precum and Holly’s slickness easing each slide of my hand.

  “You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” I tell her as I see one of her fingers ease out of her pussy and skim the pucker of her ass. “You need something filling your ass to help you come faster, baby?”

  She nods.

  “Give me the words, Holly.”

  “Please,” she whispers.

  “You’re not ready for my cock yet.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Show me what you want, Holly.”

  Her curious little finger rims her ass, but doesn’t slip inside.

  She looks back at me, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Please.”

  Holly looks like she’s teetering on the edge of orgasm, desperate for the little push that will send her over. I may not have packed much, but I remembered to pack the important stuff.

  “Don’t move.”

  I turn and head for my bag. After wiping off my hand, I retrieve the plug and lube in record time. I’ve got the package open and the silicone coated liberally when I step back into the bedroom.

  The sight of Holly on her knees, ass in the air and her hand between her legs, nearly has me coming on the spot.

  Fuck me, but this woman is perfect.

  Creighton stops at the end of the bed and holds up a hot pink butt plug. It’s definitely bigger than the last one we used, but right now, I don’t care. I’m reaching for what might be the most intense orgasm of my life, and I’m beyond caring about anything. I’m begging for him to shove something up my ass, and I know I should feel embarrassed or ashamed, but all I care about is the mind-blowing pleasure I know will follow.

  “Fucking perfect.” Or at least I think that’s what he whispers when he lowers his head and presses a kiss to the base of my spine, and then one to each dimple at the top of my ass.

  My nipples pucker as he slides the tip of the plug down my crack until it’s resting against my ass. The slick trail of lube tells me he’s already prepared it for me. The pressure is exquisite as he presses it forward just a smidge at a time. I arch my back, shoving back against it, and inhale sharply at the burn.

  He backs off immediately, and his palm slaps the outside of my thigh. “Slow down, baby. You’ll get what I give you, and you’ll like it.”

  He’s already started nudging the plug back inside me, and my fingers work my clit faster and faster. I can feel my arousal dripping down my hand, and I’m nearly mindless with pleasure when he’s stretched me and seated the plug.

  The same palm that slapped me before now caresses my ass, and I push back into it.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he says, and in that moment, I feel beautiful. I feel . . .

  My thoughts shut down as the orgasm solidifies and shatters inside me. I think I moan his name, but I have no idea.

  I drop my hand, ready to ride out the pleasure as it subsides, but Creighton has other ideas. His fingers take over, pinching my clit and stealing another orgasm from me.

  “Oh. My. God,” I whisper, my eyes slamming shut as the arm I’m using to hold myself up shakes and my elbows give way.

  Creighton catches me before I land face-first on the bed. He lifts me back up onto my knees, but doesn’t stop until my back is against him. His fingers disappear, but then I feel the head of his cock against my pussy.

  “I’m taking a rain check on fucking that mouth of yours. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He thrusts, seating himself to the base with one ruthless push.

  The plug in my ass makes him seem twice as big, and the stretch of his cock sends my body into pleasure overload.

  “Creighton!” Another orgasm rips through me, but he doesn’t slow. He holds me pinned to him with an arm under my breasts as he thrusts into me over and over.

  I can feel his breath as he speaks against my ear. “One more time. I’m not stopping until I feel that perfect cunt of yours strangle my cock one more time.” His lips slide across my shoulder just before his teeth press against my skin.

  I don’t know if it’s his words, his teeth, or my own hand between my legs, but in that moment, I detonate.

  Having a wife was supposed to be convenient, and when I woke up this morning with my cock between my wife’s lips, it was incredibly fucking convenient.

  But now? Now I’m starting to realize there is nothing convenient about being married to Holly Wickman Karas, and yet there’s nothing that could drag me away from her. Not even the fact that my uncle is causing trouble and riling up Wall Street. If there was ever a time I should be at the helm, showing the world that the company I’ve built from nothing is the center of my life, it’s now.

  But I’m not at my desk. I’m in Dallas, still living in Holly’s world, and trying to figure out how one formerly innocent country girl claimed that center spot.

  Everything I feel about her is unsettling, and I’m not ready to fucking talk about any of it. So instead, I focus on the here and now, and leave the complicated little fuckers called emotions to another day.

  The woman is a workhorse—and I mean that in the most complimentary way imaginable. A trophy wife, she is not. She slipped on a pair of headphones the moment we climbed on the jet this morning, and pulled out a notebook. She was already scribbling away before takeoff. She waved off breakfast, barely looking up until we landed and I stood next to her, holding out a hand. I’ve never spent much time around creative types—all of my acquaintances tend to be like me—so this has been an education.

  On the drive from the airport, I practically had to shove food in her mouth to get her to eat, as she seemed content to bob her head, hum, and scribble. She didn’t come out of her writing zone until we pulled up to the radio station, where she hopped out of the car, and I had to jog to catch up.

  After a radio interview, dozens of autographs, pictures, and off-air questions, she headed back to the car. I began to feel like a chauffeur when she slipped her headphones back on and said, “We’re going to the venue next, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer before picking up her pen and starting to scribble again.

  I couldn’t get her attention until we arrived at the venue. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t me that got her attention, but the giant new luxury coach I arranged to be delivered. And it didn’t actually catch her attention until she started to walk by it and I snagged her hand.

  “This one’s yours.”

  She stared up at the gleaming black-and-silver coach, eyes blinking. “No friggin’ way.”

  I smiled at her unvarnished response. “Yes friggin’ way.”

  My visions of christening the coach in style were obliterated when the members of her band climbed off the other bus, and she became all business. I was curious to watch their rehearsal, but a conference call had me climbing on Holly’s new bus and firing up my laptop. Alone. And I thought this marriage was going to be fucking convenient.

  By the time I’ve finished up work, Holly still hasn’t returned. A look at the clock says it’s now almost six.

  Shit.

  Did I miss it?

  Fuck.

  I flip my laptop shut and hurry off the bus, flashing the pass that some skinny guy dropped off about three hours ago. Something about all-access. At least tonight I won’t be trying to bribe some security guard the size of a giant to get backstage. That’s a marginal improvement.