A Double Dose of Billionaire: Part Three (6 page)

I sucked on my lower lip. "That sounds... serious."

Riley added, "A few years later, she was diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder. My dad blames himself for it, so he never left. But it's difficult to love a woman who only cares for herself."

I put my fist over my mouth to hold back a chortle. So, Mrs. Crawford was a clinically certified narcissist. Her story didn't invoke a single ounce of sympathy in me, although I shouldn't have been so harsh on her. But her disorder led to a destructive behavior that didn't just affect her, but everyone else around her. In fact, it probably hurt others more than herself, considering she had a billionaire still longing to protect her well-being.

However, it did manage to make me hate her less, if only a bit. "That's interesting, I suppose."

***

"I need to go to the washroom," I said, holding my hand over my stomach. Maybe it was something I ate, or pregnancy nausea again. It was a light discomfort, but I wanted to wash up, just in case.

Ryan reached for my hand. "Are you okay? Do you want me to follow you?"

"It's fine. I can handle myself."

My heels clicked onto the marble flooring as I made my way. I was sick of throwing up. The vomiting had lessened, but still got on my nerves. I turned around a corner.

Walking out of a restroom was a blond man. He wore his hair long, nearly shoulder-length. His blue eyes added to his princely look. I couldn't help but think he was gorgeous, but something about his demeanor, and the way he glanced over me irked my gut. He looked familiar—I might have met him before, somewhere, but nothing reminded me of anything in particular.

I made my way to brush past him. Then he smiled and said, "You're Scarlet Fontaine, aren't you? Riley’s secretary?"

With that, running away ceased to be an option. That would be plain rude. I acknowledged him with a short bow of my head. "Yes, and you are?" I offered a customary handshake.

Shaking my hand, he replied, "Wesley. Wesley Goodwill." He winked as he told me his name, but what was meant to be charming made me strangely more ill.

Goodwill? Recognition of his name made me part my lips in shock. He was one of the sons of the TTA international directors. I hadn’t heard much about him, but I could have seen him in one of the photos when researching. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay. I prefer to lay low." His gaze lowered to my cleavage. I adjusted my dress. That didn't do much—the fabric of the dress slipped right back into place.

"Um, Mr. Goodwill, sir, if you may excuse me." The bastard was starting to get too close. Without realizing it, I had been backed up against the wall. I tried to slide away by side-stepping.

He raised his arm to block my way, and I nearly crashed my face onto it. "It's rude to leave so quickly," he said. I could smell the scent of his breath—champagne maybe. His other hand gripped the side of my face.

Any resolve to remain polite had drained away the moment he decided to manhandle me. "Well, sir, it's rude to put your filthy hands on someone else's face." I considered spitting into his eye, but things haven't escalated that much, yet. Two seconds later, I regretted my decision. I should have assaulted him as soon as I could.

A smirk brushed the corner of his mouth. "Funny. I like that."

Suddenly, he pressed his chapped lips on my neck. I wanted to scream, but he covered my face before I could. Agonizingly, his kisses traveled to my mouth. I tried to shut my mouth tight. His touch was slimy, disgusting, and fetid. Roughly, his hand slipped under my dress and groped the mounds of my flesh. I struggled against his grip. Fear had begun to creep up to my stomach, adding to my nausea. An urge to wash every part of my body he touched rushed over my skin.

He wasn't the twins. I didn't trust him, love him. Each graze made my hairs stand on their ends. His strength overpowered me easily, crushing my body under his weight.

Fuck, I don't want this.
His prickly tongue forced its way down my throat, nearly choking me. I made inaudible sounds, supposedly muffled screams.

For a brief second, he let go to say, "You're begging to be fucked."

"You son of a—"

I was silenced before I could make enough of a commotion. I
needed
someone to stumble upon us. There were multiple restrooms, but the one I chose was further away and more secluded than the others were, since I assumed the others would have been packed with long queues.

I thought hard of ways I could subdue my assaulter. A punch or a kick? He didn't allow me to do any of them. He held my hands firmly in his grip while pressing my leg down with his. His bulge nudged my thigh. The thought of me turning him on sent shivers of disgust down my back.

"Scarlet?" I heard a voice call.
Ryan
. I could recognize his voice in a heartbeat. He must have come to check up on me.
Thank God.
Relief seeped through my body.

Wesley backed away and turned his head. I caught a glimpse of shock registering on his expression, but he expertly masked it. "Mr. Crawford, I was just showing your secretary some... appreciation."

The anger Ryan emanated felt strong enough to tear buildings down. "Get the fuck away from her."

He backed away, if only a little, but that was enough to give me an opening. Hesitation aside, I raised my leg and landed my kick squarely in between his legs. The contortion on his face was priceless.

The man fell to the floor, cradled up like a baby. "Shit! Why the fuck would you do that, you mad woman?"

He was groaning when I kicked that spot,
again,
intentionally angling my heels so it stabbed the hand covering his groins in the most painful way possible. The devil in me was chuckling evilly, fully embracing its sadistic nature.

"Stop it! Please. Damn it! My father won't be happy about this."

I thought I had done sufficient damage myself, but Ryan didn't think so. He rushed toward Wesley and picked the bastard up by his collar. Wesley whimpered as he was dragged up, still covering his manhood. I almost felt sorry for the guy, but the lingering scent of his touch refueled my hatred and let me enjoy the way he groveled beneath Ryan.

"Stay the fucking hell away from my woman," Ryan said, pulling a fist backwards and punching the poor man's nose. I heard a crack sound. A smug grin split my jaw.

Ryan let him crumple onto the floor after that one punch. Wesley cradled himself again, hugging his knees to his chest.

Despite his defeated look, the asshole still had some spunk left him in. "I'm going to fucking kill the both of you. You don't want to mess with my dad. He'll make sure negotiations fail." His voice croaked.

"Let it fail, then. There are tens of other bidders willing to take your place. We only didn't want to waste time."

Worried, I turned to Ryan. He gave me a nod, but I didn't know if it was meant to be reassuring.

"You," Ryan said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist, "come with me."

He pulled me along, down the corridor toward the women's room. I took a side-glance at Wesley. He was still curling up with himself, shooting us a death glare.

"Where are we going?" I asked, paying less heed to Wesley. Bastards like him didn't warrant my attention.

"I didn't like him touching you."

Trying to be funny, I responded, "Me neither."

"I'm serious, Scarlet. I couldn't believe my eyes when I stumbled upon the both of you. At first, I thought you were cheating, and I've never felt sicker. And then I realized you were struggling, which made me even sicker. I nearly thought I would kill that guy."

"Ryan—"

"You're mine," he said. "Every part of you. I want all of you to belong
to me
. To
us
.
"

"Wait, Ryan, isn't this the..." He led me into the women's room. I gasped. He wasn't supposed to be in here. Why the hell were we in here?
Together?

He forced me into the cubicle, answering my question. Thankfully, there wasn't anyone else waiting for us outside. Hastily, his hands traveled to the buttons of my blouse. He trailed firm, possessive kisses down my neck and toward my breasts.

"These are mine." Carefully, he peeled my bra aside and took my nipple in his mouth. His tongue rolled around the nub, expertly sending tingles to my core.

Almost too soon, his mouth left my mound and made light kisses down my stomach. "Everything," he continued.

My legs were spread and propped up against the side of the cubicle. "Ryan, wait. We're in public."

"I don't care." He pushed my skirt up to reveal my wet, soaking panties. Eagerly, he brushed them aside and slid two fingers into my hole. My wetness accepted him easily.

Yes.
Fuck it. I wanted him to have me on this spot. The voyeurism of it turned me on even further. I moved my hips against his hand. The palm of it rubbed on my clit, pressing as hard as it could. My eyes were wide open as Ryan fingered me. He was looking straight at my face, studying every motion of my expression, taking in the way I whimpered and moaned under his adept touch.

"Harder," I encouraged, the height of my release creeping up. I threw my face onto his shoulder as I hugged his neck in order to muffle myself.

Ryan unzipped his trousers. "I'm so damn fucking hard for you now, princess."

"Ryan, Ryan, please..."

"Please what?" His fingers left my pussy, creating an empty throbbing ache.

My mind had turned to mush. "Please, just..."

"Hmmm?" He trailed kisses down from my ear to my mouth, effectively sending dizziness to my head. His mouth engulfed mine, silencing my breath.

He rubbed his erection on my bare center. "Tell me, princess. What do you want?"

The foreplay had turned into pure torture. Adrenaline and ecstasy pounded through my veins. "Put it in, Ryan."

Blowing into my ear, he said, "Put what in?"

Someone could walk in on us any moment. My heart pounded against my chest. "Your cock. Put it in."

He didn't listen, despite my desperate pleas. He continued to grind his wood on me, sometimes slipping the tip in, but that wasn't enough to satisfy my lustful desires.

Frustrated, I clenched my fist over his cock and guided it into my pussy. It slid in smoothly in one swift motion, reaching all the way in and nearly hitting my cervix.

I moaned into his neck, hugging his back as tightly as I could. "Fuck me."

He answered my bold request by rotating his hips in a fluid and fast motion, grinding in and out, fucking me against the cubicle. The walls of the cubicle started to shake. I muffled my groans into a soft whimper, afraid that someone would enter the washroom and hear us. The threat of that happening only added to the pleasure—it made my pussy clench around his erection, contracting around it.

Ryan bit my ear. "I don't want anyone else touching you." His hand traveled down my belly and landed on my clit. As quickly as he could, he stroked it with his thumb. Blinding sensations flooded through my mind. "This is mine, too," he whispered.

"Yes," was all I could hiss.

"I'm going to tell Riley about this, and then we're going to fuck you good when we get back. We're going to make you sore. You won't be able to walk tomorrow."

I moaned softly in response—quietly, so no one else could hear. He took off his tie and circled it around my head, blindfolding me. The sensations surrounding my body heightened with the sudden loss of my sight.

The sound of the door clicking open echoed through the washroom.
Someone entered.
Panic bells rang in my head.

Ryan muted me by placing his hand over my lips. "Keep it down."

The person entered one of the cubicles. I could hear her lifting the lid of the toilet and relieving herself. Ryan continued to pound into me, regardless of the possibility of us getting caught. She then walked to the washing basins—I could hear her footsteps. The water ran... and then, silence.

Paranoia caught hold of me, but strangely made me more sensitive. My climax began to build up, with Ryan fingering and fucking my pussy simultaneously, I couldn't last long. The silence made it more exciting. What if she was standing right outside our door now, listening to everything? Were we loud enough so she didn't have to come close to hear?

Finally, the front door creaked open one more time, indicating that she left. Ryan bent down, positioning his lips right next to my ear. I heard his soft groans. He seemed to be in pure ecstasy. "I'm going to come."

"Me too."

He bucked harder. Stars covered my eyes as I tried to follow his pace with my hip motions. The white-hot coil was nearly off the edge. I attempted to hold it in to prolong the pleasure, but within seconds, I was coming. My release pulsed and contracted around my body. Ryan orgasmed as soon as I did. With one final thrust, he spilled his semen into me, filling my core.

I was a hot mess when we finished. My legs had gone limp. Weakly, I pulled my panties up and neatened my skirt. I hoped the guests wouldn't be able to tell that I had just been thoroughly screwed over, literally. What did it matter, anyway? The both of us had just assaulted one of the director's sons. Negotiations were likely to fall through after that.

Ryan dressed himself. I spotted a lipstick stain on his collar. He pulled his tie straight. "That was just part one."

He pushed the door open. Thankfully, the place was still empty.

We returned to the party, acting as if nothing had happened. With the promise from Ryan, I couldn't wait for the party to end.