My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 164: Surrender

Cammy pressed her bare back against the cold tiled wall, her breath hitching as she lifted a hand, palm out. "Greg... don’t," she warned, though her voice lacked conviction.

Greg smirked, his eyes dark with mischief and desire. "What’s wrong, Cammy? Are you afraid of me now?" he teased, taking a slow, deliberate step closer.

Her heart pounded, her body betraying her despite her brain screaming at her to run. "We have work tomorrow. It’s already late. If you come any closer... you know this won’t end well," she tried to reason, though the shaky breath she took gave her away.

Greg cocked his head, amusement flickering across his face. "And what if I want it to end badly?" His voice dropped, husky, tempting. "I need a shower too, you know. Might as well save water." He reached for the glass shower door and slid it open effortlessly.

Cammy’s mind screamed, ’Oh no’, but her body... her traitorous, heated body had other plans.

She stood frozen as Greg started undressing, her eyes betraying her as they followed his every move. The moment he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his sculpted torso, her throat went dry. Then came the slow unzipping of his pants, the sound deafening in the thick silence between them. And when he shoved them down, freeing the beast he had been restraining—

Cammy sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers gripping the slick tiles behind her. She had been so busy staring at him that she hadn’t even noticed him watching her just as intently.

Greg caught her staring and chuckled darkly. "You like what you see?" His voice was pure sin, sending shivers down her spine.

She snapped her gaze back up to his face, her throat working as she swallowed hard. Words failed her.

Greg took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

Cammy knew she should move. She should push him away. She should do something.

But as the steam curled around them and his heat closed in—

She realized she didn’t want to.

Greg gently grabbed the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her damp hair as he gently pulled her head closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered, voice hoarse with desire, "I love this wet look on you..."

Before she could even process his words, his other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him—skin to skin, heat to heat. The sudden contact made her gasp, her soft curves molding against the hard lines of his body. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"G-Greg, I—"

"Shh..." he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. "No more words."

And then his lips crashed onto hers, claiming them with a raw, unrelenting hunger. His kiss was intense, alternating between licking and sucking, devouring her like he had been starving for her. She moaned against his mouth, her resolve shattering like glass as her fingers found their way to his neck, pulling him even closer.

Her body arched into him, her breasts pressing firmly against his chest, earning a sharp inhale from him. That reaction sent a thrill down her spine.

Greg deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers, teasing, tasting, claiming. Their tongues moved in a sensual, synchronized rhythm—tangling, retreating, and meeting again in a dance that only they knew the steps to.

The steam curled around them, thick and intoxicating, but nothing burned hotter than the fire between them.

He kissed her with such raw, unrelenting passion that she felt like she was drowning—suffocating in the heat of his desire. Her body trembled under his touch, every nerve ignited as he devoured her lips, stealing every breath she had left. Just as she thought she would completely lose herself, he pulled away, giving her a brief moment to inhale before his lips began their descent.

His mouth trailed down the column of her neck, licking, nipping, and sucking at her sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. The sharp contrast of his warm tongue against the cool bathroom air made her shudder.

His hands weren’t idle either. His left hand cupped her breast, kneading it with slow, deliberate strokes, while his right hand traveled lower, slipping between her thighs from behind.

"Ahh, Greg!" she gasped, her back arching as his fingers slid into her, teasing her mercilessly.

He groaned against her skin, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking wet... just the way I want you."

Before she could even process his words, he dropped to his knees before her, lifting her right leg effortlessly and placing it on his shoulder. His strong hands gripped her thighs, steadying her as he gazed up at her with a sinful smirk.

The moment his tongue flicked out, slow and calculated, she knew she was done for. Her fingers instantly tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, while her other hand scrambled against the tiled wall, desperately searching for support.

And then, without warning, he began his onslaught—licking, sucking, devouring her in a way that had her throwing her head back, gasping his name like a prayer.

The bathroom echoed with her moans and cries, a sinful symphony that only fueled Greg’s hunger. But it still wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t just want to hear her—he wanted her to wail, make her scream his name until it was the only thing she knew.

With a wicked smirk, he slid two fingers back inside her, curling them just right, pressing against that sweet, hidden spot that would send her spiraling into oblivion.

"Oh God, Greg! Ahh..." she gasped, her body convulsing as his tongue and fingers worked in perfect, torturous harmony.

Every stroke, every flick of his tongue against her swollen nub had her unraveling, her legs trembling, her breath hitching in desperate gasps. The pressure inside her coiled tighter and tighter, an unbearable ache building deep within her core, threatening to snap at any second.

She no longer had the strength—or the will—to stop him. She didn’t want to.

All she could do was surrender.