Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2) (52 page)

God, his voice sounded so fucking hot all raspy and thick with sleep.

“But what if I—”

“You have literally fucked me dry. I really hope you’re okay with adoption, honey, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure my balls are empty.”

I grinned into the crook of his neck. “You want to have babies with me?”

“I feel like this is a trick question. Last time I told you I wanted to see you pregnant with my kid, you slapped my dick. Not that it would matter at this point. I’m numb from the waist down.”

I sat back on my heels and stared down at his handsome face. His eyes were still closed, but a small smile rested on his lips. I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I swear, it’s not a trick question, baby.”

He chuckled softly. “If it isn’t a trick question, then it’s you trying to goad me into sex. I know your game, Crazy. And we both know you’re still on the pill, so it’s a moot point anyway.”

I sighed in annoyance. Damn him for being so smart. Even though he couldn’t see it, I flipped him off and then rested my back against the headboard in defeat. I had thought the whole baby thing would’ve helped plead my “let’s bone” case because, despite the fact that we had yet to get married, Thatch had been bringing up the whole “let’s have kids” conversation more and more these days. If he didn’t have a giant snake tucked inside his pants, I’d probably wonder if he was a woman.

His biological cock is definitely ticking. Wait. Clock. Not cock.

But seriously, his
cock
. His perfect, long, thick cock. I want it so fucking bad.

I sighed again and crossed my arms over my chest. Was it really too much to ask for a little morning sex, even though I hadn’t let him go to bed until two in the morning because after our first night fuck session, I had demanded a second time and a third time and then a fourth time before bed? I didn’t think so.

He sensed my annoyance and finally opened his eyes, meeting my frustrated gaze. “Honey, I’m not saying no because I don’t want you. I want you all the fucking time. I’m literally saying no because I can’t physically get it up.” He lifted up the sheet and gestured down to his boxers with a nod of his head. “You’ve literally fucked my morning wood away. And that’s saying something considering every morning for the last twenty-plus years, I’ve woken up with a hard-on.”

He was right. His boner wasn’t giving me his usual hello, and that was very unlike him. He
always
greeted me in the morning.

I rested my head against the headboard and groaned. “I’m just so horny right now. I feel like I will go crazy if I don’t come in the next five minutes. Do you want to shoulder that, Thatch? Knowing you’re the one who pushed me over the edge.”

He glanced over at me and smirked. “We’ve already established you’re crazy, honey. Beautiful but crazy. Sexy as fuck but
crazy
.”

“You love my crazy.”

“Obviously. I let you break my dick.”

“I did not break your dick,” I said, even though my eyes were now fixated on his crotch.
Did I break his dick?
I started to wonder if we needed to take him to the hospital.

He snorted. “Yeah, honey, you did.”

“What if I suck on you for a little bit?”

He shut his eyes again and seemed content to fall back asleep. “My cock needs a break. You could shove your tits in my face, and I wouldn’t care at this point.”

Why didn’t I think of that? He could
never
resist my boobs.

He peeked out of one eye and added, “That’s not a challenge.”

I groaned again. “You’re turning into an old man.”

“You weren’t saying that last night when you were begging me to put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, please. Do that.”

Both of his eyes opened to meet my unsatisfied and sex-consumed gaze. “You’re that riled, honey?”

I nodded. “I need to get off. So fucking bad.”

He moved over top of me and caged me in with his thick arms. “You want my mouth?”

“Yes.”

His fingers brushed aside the strap of my tank top as his tongue licked a path from my shoulder to my neck. “You need to come?” he breathed into my ear.

My nipples hardened. “More than I need to breathe.”

His mouth sucked at my neck, hitting that spot below my ear that had moans slipping past my lips. He slid his fingers into my hair and tilted my head to give him more room. And God, he
used
that extra space—his lips and tongue, sucking and licking along my skin, moving down to my shoulder and then back up again.

My back arched and my hips lifted, seeking relief from the pulsing ache building below my belly. “Please,” I begged. I needed more, I needed his mouth, his lips, his hands, his cock. I needed him on me, in me, all fucking over me. I wanted everything, and I wanted it all at the same time.

My nails found their way into the smooth skin of his back, leaving their mark and showing him just how desperate I was for what he had to give.

He kissed a wet, openmouthed path down my throat and between my breasts as his body slid down mine. His large hands slipped my tank down until I was bared for his heady gaze.

“Christ.” He groaned when his eyes took in my hard nipples and heaving chest.

His tongue licked a hot trail across my breast until he sucked me into his mouth.

“These fucking perfect tits were made for my big fucking hands.
Fuck,
Cass. I shouldn’t be hard right now, but I am. I’m so fucking hard for you.” He punctuated that statement by grinding against me until I moaned.

When those words passed his lips, I was pretty sure angels started singing.

“Yes, please. I need it, baby.”

“Not yet.”

His hands continued to grip my breasts, and his thumbs brushed across my nipples as his mouth moved down my belly. He licked from one hip bone to the next until he descended farther and pressed his warm mouth against my clit. He sucked on me through my panties, and my eyes rolled back.

“You’re soaked. I need to lick you clean before I slide my cock inside this perfect pussy.”

In two quick pulls, he tore my underwear off my body and didn’t waste a second after. He sucked and ate at my pussy until my legs started to shake and I gripped his hair with my fingers.

“How do you want it, honey? My mouth or my cock?”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I swear—”

He had his cock out and his hands gripping my thighs before I could finish. He thrust inside me between one panting breath and the next.

I moaned, my voice echoing inside of the silent apartment.

“More?” He pushed a little deeper.

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

“Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck
, Cass.” He damn near growled. “You always feel so good.”

Four hours and a combined four orgasms later—three for me and one for Thatch—we were riding up the elevator toward the owner’s suite at Paul Howard Stadium, the home of the New York Mavericks.

I was fidgety with nervous excitement, practically bouncing from foot to foot.

Thatch smirked and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s healthy. He’s in the best shape of his life. Sean’s going to do great.”

I nodded. “I know, but I can’t stop feeling so nervous. I mean, it’s my baby brother’s first professional football game.”

“Yeah, and he’s about to show the Mavericks that drafting him was the best decision they ever made.”

The elevator dinged when we reached the top level, and Thatch led me out with a hand softly pressed to my lower back.

I looked up into his confident gaze and grinned. “You’re right. Sean is going to kick some serious ass today.”

“I’m always right, honey. We’ve established this numerous times.”

I lifted my hand and feigned a dick slap.

He didn’t even flinch, and I tilted my head in surprise.

He smirked. “We’ve also established that you broke my dick, honey. You could kick me in the balls right now, and I probably wouldn’t feel it.”

I glanced down at his crotch and then back up to him. My mouth tilted into a devious smile.

“No,” he said and shook his head. “I’m not fucking you here. So go ahead and come to terms with that fact right now.”

Fact? Yeah, we’d see about that. I’d thoughtfully planned my apparel ahead of time.

“I love you so much,” I told Cassie’s tits through a moan. They looked fucking spectacular today in her number seventy-eight Mavericks jersey sans bra.

Maybe it was inappropriate to ogle her chest through a shirt she donned to support her brother, but fuck. They looked
so
good. Walking into the stadium, women had looked at her like she was crazy, and men had looked at me like they were considering murder for the chance to take my place.

It had been
awesome
.

“Harder, baby,” Cassie ordered in between gasps as I gave into temptation and buried my face in the low V-neck of her shirt and held her up and against the owner’s suite bathroom wall. She’d been relentless for the last month or so, completely sexually insatiable, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t completely sure I could keep up.

I tried to increase my tempo and force without breaking her in half or making myself come prematurely. The line I walked for both was fantastically thin.

“Fuck my pussy, Thatch,” she demanded, and I closed my eyes to fight the tingle in my spine.

“I am, honey,” I told her, because I was. I was giving her everything I had to give, and she still wanted more. I both loved and hated the idea that my woman could take so much.

It was hot as fuck, but it didn’t do me much good if I couldn’t keep up.

Sucking at the top swell of her breast, I tightened my grip on her ass, lifted her even higher, pushed her harder into the door, and set up a pounding rhythm. The hinged wood rattled, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind all of our friends could hear every single thrust.

“Fuck yeah, oh, yeah,” she screamed. Moving my mouth from her chest to her lips, I worked my tongue between the seam to silence her.

She hiccupped through her pleasure and dug her fingernails into my shoulders in an attempt to climb me higher.

One hand left me to stroke her own nipple through her shirt, and I groaned.

“Careful, baby,” I warned her. “You’re gonna have to finish on my tongue if you keep that up.”

“Uh, oh, yeah,” she moaned, ignoring me completely and chasing her own pleasure like a search dog.

“Goddamn,” I told her throat. “You are the sexiest fucking woman on the planet.”

Using her other hand to help, she pulled the neck of her shirt down and under her tits to bare them to my eyes and make them accessible for my mouth.

“Suck on them, Thatcher.” She moaned. “Fucking eat them.”

“Fuuuuck.”

Never in my life would I be able to deny a request like that.

Every time her pussy swallowed my dick, milking it until I could barely pull back out, her tits bounced, and I lost control a little more.

“Get there, Cass,” I ordered, shifting a hand on her ass until my fingertips met the union between her wet pussy and my dick.

Her head fell back, her long hair bunching at the back where it rubbed persistently against the door. A crease formed in her lip with the force of her bite as she tried—and failed—to contain the yell of her orgasm.