The Greek Billionaire and I

I want to get him down the altar before he changes his mind and realize I’m after his money like some other people. This was her answer to the supermodel who had asked her the same question when the three of them had found themselves in the same red carpet event. The supermodel had been one of his ex-flings and unable to hide her envy and loathing. But at Velvet’s pointed barb, the other woman had flounced off in her super small dress and super high heels.

Remembering the distasteful conversation had Velvet sighing. She had a feeling tonight’s party, hosted by one of Mykolas’ business partners in celebration of their wedding the day after tomorrow, would have many of the same incident. Especially since the party was hosted in one of Athens’ most popular nightclubs and half of the guests already appeared quite sloshed.

After talking to another well-wisher, Mykolas turned to his fiancée and saw a frown marring Velvet’s smooth forehead. This did not sit well with him, and he immediately tugged her close and lifted Velvet from her stool and into his lap.

She immediately curled her arms around his neck even as she glared at him and muttered under her breath, “What is with you and having me on your lap?”

If he were truthful with her, Mykolas would have to tell Velvet that he had no idea as well. He had never done this with any other woman. He had actually hated any kind of public display, and his ex-lovers had known that all he would tolerate of them were occasional touches. Perhaps, Mykolas thought, it was because he had instinctively known all those women would be clingy if he had given them the chance.

On the other hand, Velvet was the opposite. She practically bristled every time he had her sitting on his lap in public, and it was precisely because of that reason he liked her close.

Velvet suddenly bit his ear, making him look at her with a raised eyebrow even as his cock rose to attendance.

“You were miles away.” Velvet had to say everything close to his ear. It was either that or shout to be heard over the loud, heart-pumping music played by the club’s DJ. “What were you thinking?”

“Your question.” His words tickled her ear, making Velvet shiver. When he chuckled and pulled her closer, she knew that he had intended her to react that way.

“A*shole.”

Mykolas only smiled. “But I was seriously thinking about it, agape mou.”

“Oh. Have you thought of the answer?”

“Yes.” And he breathed to her ear, “I just like making you mad.”

This time, a full shiver did run through her body, goose bumps popping up all over her skin even as she gaped at his answer. Seriously? Seeing his steady look, Velvet realized Mykolas did mean it, and she said sweetly, “A*shole,” before promptly biting his ear in punishment. Mykolas always warned her not to arouse him in public. It was the greatest distraction, he had told her seriously, and he hated being less than a hundred percent alert when surrounded by people he didn’t trust.

Of course, when he warned her that way, it only made her want to arouse him even more. Sort of like how he wanted her to act like a sex kitten in public even though he knew she sort of hated it, Velvet realized in surprise. The realization that they had the oddest similarities secretly pleased her, enough to make Velvet bite his ear again.

“What the f*ck, Velvet?” But the way his cock was rubbing her told Velvet he wasn’t exactly unhappy with what she did.

“I think I want to f*ck you now,” she whispered to him.

He looked at her like he wanted to strangle and f*ck her at the same time.

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Please?” And then she was laughing. He always moved so fast whenever she was the one to ask for sex first. In seconds, he had her inside the ladies’ room, locked the door, and had her up against the wall.

“Wicked tease.” His voice was a rough sexy growl, lust glinting in his eyes just before he kissed her hard.

“But you like it, don’t you,” she purred breathlessly. He had already freed his cock from his trousers and in the next second, Mykolas had again ripped her panties away, the torn pieces joining her discarded purse on the floor. She pretended to sigh despondently. “Panty Ripper.” But the words were barely out of her mouth before she gasped, his cock sliding home into her already wet p-ssy.

Mykolas didn’t bother talking, fully focused on f*cking Velvet hard. He kept his eyes on her all the time as he shoved his cock in and out of her, loving the way her own eyes became unfocused with desire. He loved those little whimpers she did, knowing she only ever made those sounds for him.

His cock still inside her p-ssy, he carried her towards the counter and flipping her to her chest, Mykolas bent her halfway so he could enter her from behind. “Hold tight.”

Velvet did as ordered, and thank God she did because this time Mykolas wasn’t holding back. He pounded into her so hard and good she could no longer make a sound. He had turned into a rutting beast, his hands squeezing her breasts hard, and oh God, she couldn’t get enough of it.

Even the slapping sounds of his balls against her thighs was hypnotic, and so were the wet plopping sounds that his cock made each time it shoved into her tight and quivering p-ssy. Soon, she couldn’t stop gasping, her heart racing, her body tightening and tightening—

Mykolas gripped one bare cheek hard before reaching under her to pinch her *. “Come for me, my love.”

My love.

Velvet screamed, Mykolas’ unexpected words triggering her release, and she kept screaming as Mykolas roared her name from behind, hot sticky come bursting out of his cock and flooding her until they started dripping down her thighs.

She knew of course that ‘my love’ translated to ‘agape mou’ in Greek, and that the latter was a common endearment. But tonight was the first time he had said the words in English, and God, how those words made her feel so...loved.

Inner turmoil had Mykolas stiff. He had a hard time believing he had called Velvet ‘my love’. He hoped she would not read anything in it. The words were an endearment. He repeated this to himself several times as if trying to convince himself. She was a fool to think it was anything other than that. And he would be a greater fool to worry if she did. It was not his problem if she did. What they would have tomorrow was a marriage of convenience – and nothing more than that.

Mykolas was quiet as he cleaned her, wetting his handkerchief to wipe away the come from her still sensitive flesh and her thighs. Seated on the counter, Velvet looked down at Mykolas and said, “It’s okay.”

Slowly, he lifted his head. “What’s okay?”

Her lips twisted. “I’m not the kind to beat around the bush, so I’ll just say it as it is. It’s okay that you said something you might not have meant. I get it, Mykolas.” She forced a smile. “You didn’t mean it when you called me ‘my love’, and it’s cool.”

Mykolas only spoke when he was done cleaning her and was back on his feet. “I never thought I’d say this, but…” He kissed her softly on the lips. “I’d rather you call me an ‘a*shole’.”

Velvet blinked, then a laugh escaped her as the tension in the air noticeably lessened. She said obediently, “A*shole. You motherf*cking goddamn a*shole.”

“That was a little bit more than I asked for, agape mou,” Mykolas asked with a wince as he helped her down the counter.

“Consider it a bonus,” she replied promptly.