My Wedding Was a Fake, So I Claimed My Fortune and a Billionaire novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Say It Out Loud

In the morning she asks for all of him, out loud, and he takes her against the glass wall above the city.

I asked him at nine in the morning, standing in his bare feet at the glass wall with his coffee going cold on the sill.

"Auden."

He turned.

He wore gray sweatpants and nothing else.

The whole front of him was broad and dark-haired and carved by a gym he clearly used as a weapon.

"I'm asking," I said.

"For what?"

"Say it like it's a dare. You made me."

His mouth tilted.

"Say what you want, Lenora."

"I want you inside me." My voice was steady and my pulse wasn't. "I want your cock. I want it now, and I want you to stop being careful."

He put the coffee down.

He crossed the room and picked me up by the backs of my thighs.

I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He carried me to the window and turned so my back was against the cold glass.

Forty floors of city lay behind my head.

He kissed me with his whole mouth, deep, his tongue sliding against mine, his beard rough and his hands tight on my ass.

"Say it again," he said against my lips.

"Fuck me."

"Good girl."

Something in my belly dropped to the floor.

I had never in my life been told I was good at wanting something.

He set me on my feet and turned me by the hips to face the glass.

I put both palms flat on the window.

He pulled the T-shirt I'd slept in up over my head and dropped it.

I wore nothing under it.

He made a sound behind me that was almost a growl.

His hands came around and cupped my breasts, heavy and full in his big palms.

He thumbed my nipples until I arched.

"Look at the city," he said into my ear. "Every one of those windows is a person who hasn't had what you're about to have."

"Auden."

"Spread your feet."

I spread them.

His hand slid down my belly and between my legs from the front.

He found me soaked and slid two fingers inside.

I pushed back against his hips and felt how hard he was through the sweatpants.

"You're dripping on my floor."

"Then do something about it."

He laughed, low and delighted, and shoved the sweatpants to his thighs.

I looked back over my shoulder.

I'd felt him last night through cloth and imagined him ever since.

I had not imagined this.

He was thick and long and flushed dark, jutting heavily out from his body, a vein running up the underside.

He took himself in his fist and stroked once, slowly, watching my face.

"Keep looking at the window," he said.

"I want to see you."

"Then you'll see me in the glass."

I turned my head back.

I could see both of us, faintly, ghosted over the city lights.

Him behind me, huge, and me with my hands spread on the glass and my mouth open.

He put the head of his cock against me and rubbed it up and down through my wetness.

I whimpered.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please put it in. Please, Auden, please."

He pushed in.

He went slowly, steadily, one inch and then another.

I felt myself stretch around him, tight and burning and so full I stopped breathing.

"Breathe, baby."

I breathed.

He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush against my ass.

"Fuck," he said, strained. "You're so tight."

"You're so big."

"Take it. You're taking it so well."

He drew back and thrust in again, and the whole length of me lit up.

He set a slow, hard rhythm, one hand on my hip and the other flat between my shoulder blades keeping me bent.

Each stroke pushed a breath out of me.

Each stroke ended with his hips smacking my skin.

"Harder," I said.

"Say please."

"Please harder."

He gave me harder.

The glass fogged under my breath.

My breasts swung with each thrust.

He reached around and found my clit with two fingers and rubbed small fast circles while he fucked me.

I felt the orgasm gather.

"Don't hold it," he said. "Give it to me."

"I'm going to."

"Good girl. Come on my cock."

I came with a shout that bounced off the window.

My legs buckled and he caught my whole weight in one arm, still deep inside me, still moving, drawing the orgasm out in long slow rolls until I whimpered his name.

He pulled out.

I made a sound of loss.

He turned me, lifted me again, and walked me to the bed with my legs around him.

He put me on my hands and knees in the tangled sheets.

"Not done," he said.

"Good."

He knelt behind me and gripped my hips in both hands.

He went in again in one smooth stroke, and I fell forward onto my forearms with my mouth open against the pillow.

This was deeper.

Every thrust reached somewhere new.

I could feel him in my belly, and my own wetness running down the inside of my thigh.

He wound my long hair once around his fist and pulled my head back, just enough that I arched.

"Look at you," he said. "Dark hair all down your back. Your ass red where I'm holding you."

"Don't stop."

"I don't plan to."

"Tell me I'm good."

"You're so good, Lenora." His voice was rough, wrecked. "You take every inch like you were built for it. You're the best thing I've ever had in my hands."

I heard myself sob.

It was not sad.

It was the sound of years of being told I was easy to love because I was easy to lie to, finally breaking open.

He slapped my ass once, hard and flat, and the sting went straight to my clit.

"Again," I said.

He did it again.

He reached under me and rubbed my clit in time with the thrusts and I fell over the edge a third time, shaking, sobbing his name, clenching so hard around him that he swore and slowed to nothing.

"Not yet," he muttered, to himself.

He pulled out and rolled me onto my back.

His cock was slick from me and hard enough to look painful.

He pushed my knees up to my chest and slid back inside.

This way I could see his face.

His jaw was tight, his eyes black and fixed on mine, a drop of sweat running down his temple and into his beard.

He fucked me deep and slow, grinding at the end of each stroke, hitting a place inside me that made my toes curl.

"Look at me," he said.

"I am."

"I'm going to ruin you for that man."

"He's already ruined."

"For every man."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down until his chest was against my breasts.

He kissed me and fucked me at the same time, and the sounds I made went into his mouth.

I came again, softer and deeper, a long shudder that squeezed around his cock.

That broke him.

He groaned, buried his face in my neck, and drove into me three times, hard, ragged.

"Lenora."

"Yes."

"I'm coming."

"Come inside me."

He came with a roar against my skin, his whole body shaking.

I felt the heat pulse inside me as he emptied himself.

I held him through it.

I stroked the back of his shaved head and he shuddered once more and went still, heavy and hot on top of me.

We lay there for a long while.

His heartbeat knocked against my breastbone.

Neither of us said anything clever.

After a while he rolled us so I was on his chest.

He pushed the hair out of my face.

"That man's text," he said. "Read it to me again."

"Come home. I can explain everything. Don't sign or say anything to anyone before Monday."

"What's Monday?"

"He's got a lawyer's appointment on Monday for a power of attorney. He's been pushing it for a month. He says it's so he can manage my estate when I turn thirty."

"He isn't your husband," Auden said. "He can't touch the estate without your signature."

"I know."

"He knows it too."

"So he needs me to sign it."

"Yes."

I lay on his heartbeat and thought about it.

Thought about the house on Jones Street, the one my grandmother left me, with Davis's coat still hanging in the hall.

Thought about nineteen days.

"I'm going home," I said.

His chest went still.

"Home."

"He thinks I'm a heartbroken fool. Let him keep thinking it." I sat up. "I'll be the wife who forgives him. I'll let him bring me the paper. And on the day my grandmother's trust opens, in front of everyone who matters in Savannah, I'll hand it back to him."

Auden looked at me.

He looked at me for a long, hot, unreadable time.

"You want me to let you walk back into the house of the man who lied to you for three years."

"I want you to let me do it. I don't want you to stop me. There's a difference."

"There is."

He pulled me down and kissed me, slow, lingering, as if he was saving the taste of it.

"Then you'll do it with a man outside the door," he said.

I texted Davis one line while he was still holding my face.

Coming home.

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