My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 228: Just For Today (5)

[~Song Recommendation: Stay - Seph Schlueter~]

Cammy’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, her wrists tugging gently against the fabric ropes. But she wasn’t trying to escape—she was giving in. Fully. Completely.

Her body was his canvas, and Greg was painting her with heat, with reverence, with every ounce of love and desire he had inside him.

Still above her, Greg’s eyes roamed her bound form, soaking her in as if to memorize every detail. The flicker of candlelight cast golden shadows over her skin, making her look almost ethereal—like something divine, something untouchable, yet entirely his.

He leaned in again, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat, tasting the pulse pounding beneath her skin. "You feel that?" he whispered, his voice like warm silk against her ear. "That’s how alive you make me feel." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

She whimpered, her hips arching, desperate for him, for more. Her eyes pleaded with him, but her voice was a trembling whisper. "Greg... please..."

And still, he took his time.

He kissed his way down again, this time tracing the same path, slower, wetter, warmer. Down her chest, down her ribs, to the trembling valley of her stomach. His tongue dipped into her navel once more before sliding lower.

He kissed her hips again—left, right, alternating—close enough to make her squirm, close enough to make her sob for it, but never quite where she ached.

Her thighs trembled against his shoulders, her body straining against the restraints, begging for contact.

Greg looked up at her, his expression fierce and tender all at once. "You’re mine," he murmured. "Every sigh, every shiver, every inch of you... I want it. I want you."

Then—finally—he settled between her thighs.

He kissed the soft skin just above her heat, his breath ghosting over her slick folds. She gasped, her hands clenching above her head, her legs quivering from restraint and need.

Greg didn’t tease anymore. His tongue found her, slow and deep, like a man who had been starved for her. He licked her with devotion, with purpose. Like he was trying to imprint himself on her soul through every stroke, every moan he drew from her lips.

Cammy cried out, her body arching helplessly, lost in the sensation, in the overwhelming intimacy of being worshipped like this.

His name fell from her mouth over and over, broken and breathless, each time more desperate than the last.

He held her thighs firmly, his fingers digging gently into her flesh, grounding her as she trembled under the weight of pleasure and emotion. And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, when the tension inside her coiled so tightly it felt like she’d burst—

Greg lifted his head, eyes locking with hers.

"I love you," he said softly, his lips wet with hers. "Shower me with your love, Cammy."

Greg didn’t rush. He wanted to savor her—watch her come undone beneath his touch. With her legs still bound wide open, her body trembling from the aftershocks of his licking, he slowly slid two fingers into her slick, pulsing heat.

Cammy gasped—her entire body jolting with pleasure. "Oh, God... f-fuck... ahh..." The words poured from her lips like a prayer covered with sin.

Her head fell back against the pillows, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut. Her hands gripped the ropes above her, knuckles turning white, as if she needed something to anchor her to reality.

Greg stilled for a moment, just to feel the way her walls fluttered around him—warm, wet, desperate. Then he began to move. Slow at first, deliberate, curling his fingers just enough to find that place inside her that made her cry out even louder.

He watched her like she was art—something divine unraveling right before his eyes. Her chest heaved, her skin glistened with sweat, and her thighs trembled around him as he fucked her slowly with his fingers, savoring every reaction he pulled from her.

"Look at you," he murmured, voice thick with awe and desire. "So fucking beautiful like this... all tied up for me, taking me so well."

Cammy whimpered, writhing under his touch, her body moving helplessly in rhythm with his fingers. She was completely vulnerable, completely his—and he cherished every second of it.

Greg leaned in, brushing kisses along the inside of her thigh while his fingers continued their slow, intoxicating rhythm. "You feel that, baby?" he whispered against her skin. "That’s me inside you... giving you everything I have."

Her back arched, a raw moan tearing from her throat. "Greg, I—I can’t... I’m gonna—"

He pressed his thumb gently to her clit, circling it with maddening softness while his fingers curled deeper inside her.

"Yes, you can," he whispered, his voice trembling with love and lust. "Come for me, Cammy. Let go, baby... I’ve got you."

Greg’s gaze never left her face as he drove his fingers deeper, faster, his movements precise and relentless.

He rubbed and curled his fingers against that tender, aching spot, that made her cry out without shame. His pace growing more urgent, more demanding, as her moans rose in pitch and desperation.

Her body squirmed beneath him, helpless against the waves crashing inside her.

"That’s it, baby... just like that," Greg murmured, his voice low and reverent, almost broken with the force of his own need. "Let me hear you. Let it all go..."

Cammy’s hands clutched the ropes, her wrists trembling. Her mouth parted in a soundless cry before the words burst out of her in ragged gasps.

"Ah—! F-Fuck! Ahh!"

And then she shattered.

Her entire body bowed, tension snapping like a live wire as she gushed, uncontrollably, a powerful release bursting from her like a storm finally given permission to break.

Her arousal sprayed against Greg’s hand, coating his wrist, his arm, his chest—and he took it all with a dark, hungry smile, eyes blazing with awe and raw desire.

"Goddamn, baby..." he breathed, utterly captivated, his voice husky with emotion and pride. "You’re so fucking perfect."

He didn’t pull away. He let her ride the high, watching her tremble and twitch as the pleasure rolled through her in waves. His other hand smoothed up her thigh, gentle and grounding, as if to tell her—I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe.

To Greg, this wasn’t just sex—it was communion. Cammy wasn’t just a woman beneath him—she was his universe in bloom, wide open, pouring her trust and her soul into his hands.