Dirty Billionaire (Page 19)

Anticipation. Nerves. Excitement. And a unique and new sense of power. They’re all flowing through my veins and controlling my actions.

Creighton settles into the seat and rests his big hands on his spread thighs. He’s unreadable, but his words hide nothing. “I like having a wife who wants to suck my dick in a limo.”

Shivers race across my skin, and my nipples pucker against the cups of my bra. Even though my body is screaming yes, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve and look more ridiculous than I did before I started this.

“Would you please tell me to?”

He tilts his head to one side. “You are so fucking perfect.” He reaches out and cups my jaw. “Holly, suck my cock until I come down your throat. Because even if I don’t fuck you tonight, I want my wife sleeping with my cum inside her.”

My inner muscles clench, and my panties are instantly soaked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

I reach for his belt and unfasten it before sliding down his zipper. He lifts up and adjusts, allowing me to pull his boxer briefs down to free his cock.

If ever a man’s penis deserved its own entrance music, it would be Creighton Karas’s. It’s long, thick, and perfectly veined. His heavy balls are already rising up to the base of his shaft.

I slide my hands up his thighs and lean forward. Pausing, I look up into Creighton’s hooded eyes as I drag my tongue from base to crown. Salty precum beading at the tip urges me on. I make my first attempt at taking him in my mouth. On Christmas Eve, he whispered promises about fucking my face after he was sated with my pussy, but those promises never came to pass because of my stealthy early-morning departure.

But I’m going to give it my all now. I wrap my lips around his cock and suck him in. My progress is pathetic, but he shows no concern that I can’t take him very deep. The stroking of his thumb along my jaw makes me want to try harder.

I adjust my position and take him as far as I can, gagging slightly on his length. He groans as I retreat. The tears streaking down my cheeks show just what a beginner I am at this. Creighton’s thumbs wipe them away.

“Don’t hurry it. It’ll take time for you to get used to me.”

Time. The one commodity he doesn’t seem to waste much on women. But then again, he actually married me.

Regardless, his reassurance buoys my flagging confidence, and I take him further again and again, tongue working him over with each stroke. His groans of pleasure make me wetter and wetter until my legs are pressing together to soothe my ache.

I’m ready to climb on him in this fancy limo when he says, “Hold still, Holly. I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

I still, and he guides my face to the most advantageous angle. And then his thrusts resume, picking up the pace until his rhythm slows and a wave of cum is unleashed in my mouth. I swallow as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up. It dribbles down my chin.

When he finally pulls his softening cock from my mouth, his thumb catches the drips and paints my lips with them.

“Can’t have my wife missing anything I give her.”

The word wife is said with such possessiveness, I shiver and lick my lips. Reality sets in when he presses the intercom button on the ceiling.

“You can head back to the hotel now.”

Creighton tucks himself into his pants and rights his clothing before I have the presence of mind to stumble back into my seat.

I can’t believe I just did that. I push off the floor, intent on returning to my own side of the limo, but Creighton grips me by the upper arms and hauls me into his lap.

“Jesus, woman. You could wreck a man with that mouth.”

His lips descend on mine before I can respond. His tongue delves into my mouth, fucking it just as surely as his cock had. I give myself over to the kiss, shocked that he’d kiss me after he just came in my mouth.

But he must not mind, because he doesn’t pull back until the limo slows and stops. When the door opens, he carefully sets me on the seat beside him, steps out, and reaches inside to lift me into the cradle of his arms.

My confusion must be branded across my features, because he says, “A bride doesn’t cross the threshold except in the groom’s arms.”

I harden my heart against the erratic thump-thump his words produce. It means nothing. It’s a gesture of possession, just as surely as the ring on my finger is.

As I tell myself these things, the exhaustion of the day sneaks up on me, and I rest my head against his shoulder.

I’ll just close my eyes for a second, I think.

I’m out before we even reach the elevator.

“The country music world is reeling to learn that Holly Wix, a still-new addition to the scene who got her start on the show Country Dreams, married billionaire playboy Creighton Karas in Vegas last night. The couple was first photographed leaving an off-Strip wedding chapel, and then a short time later entering Caesar’s Palace, where Karas is known to have a villa on reserve. When asked for a reaction, JC Hughes’s representative responded with ‘no comment.’ Wix and Karas’s representatives were unable to be reached. But we might as well acknowledge the question on everyone’s mind: how long have Wix and Karas been sneaking around behind Hughes’s back?”

I turn my head from the TV to the gorgeous woman passed out in my bed. In sleep, she looks even more innocent than she normally does. But she didn’t look shy after she took my cock between her lips in the limo. It ranked as the top sexiest sight in my life, as well as a perfect way to kick off a new year.

My cock pulses at the thought. I picture myself waking her with my head between her legs. But for all that we’re married, I’m guessing it would still freak her the fuck out. I’ll give her until tomorrow.