My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 196: Taking Control (2)

"Let me forget, Greg. Just for a little while."

Cammy’s words echoed in Greg’s mind like a hypnotic drumbeat—"Let me forget." He latched onto them, misreading her plea as a need to erase the lingering pain Duncan had caused.

He had no idea of the deeper storm brewing within her, of the secrets buried just beneath her skin.

Driven by desire and a burning need to comfort her in the only way he knew how, Greg’s hands glided from her hips to the curve of her back. With practiced ease, he found the clasp of her bra beneath the fabric and unhooked it.

Simultaneously, his other hand moved to the front of her dress, undoing the top buttons one by one—just enough to free the swell of her breasts from their silky cage.

Cammy responded without hesitation, her hand slipping into his open jeans, fingers wrapping around him with slow, tantalizing strokes that made him shudder.

He leaned in, lips finding one soft, perfect mound, taking her into his mouth with hunger.

His tongue circled and teased as he suckled her deeply, while his hand massaged the other, giving it the same reverent attention. Her skin was warm, her breath catching with each pass of his tongue.

His other hand slid lower, reaching behind her thighs, slipping between them. The heat radiating from her core made his pulse jump. When his fingers found her slick folds, Cammy gasped—her moan soft, shaky, deliciously desperate.

Greg looked up at her, breath ragged. "I’ll help you forget, Cammy," he whispered. "As long as you need me to."

And for now, she let herself believe him.

Before Greg could take it further, Cammy gently reached for his hand and pulled it away from her heat. "Let me..." she whispered, her voice husky and trembling with intent.

With slow, careful movements, she adjusted herself, positioning her body above his lap. Her hand remained firmly wrapped around him, guiding his thick, pulsing length as she began to lower herself onto him.

The air inside the car turned thick—wet with heat, tension, and the rhythm of falling rain.

Their breaths tangled in the silence, both gasping as her warmth enveloped him, inch by agonizing inch.

Greg’s head rolled back, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched. His fingers dug into her hips, trying to ground himself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

"God, Cammy..." he groaned, voice strained. "You are fucking addicting."

She didn’t stop until he was buried completely inside her, filling her to the brim. Her walls clenched around him, drawing another growl from Greg’s throat.

"You are fucking delicious," he whispered harshly before pulling her mouth down to his in a kiss that was more fire than affection—possessive, wild, and hungry.

Cammy kissed him back with the same ferocity, but then broke away, her lips brushing against his with a final, teasing touch. She placed both palms on his chest and gave him a gentle push, making him sink deeper into the slightly reclined seat.

Then, with a steady breath and dark fire in her eyes, she began to move—rising and falling on his lap, her rhythm cautious, seductive, and intense.

Every motion made the car rock gently, the storm outside echoing the storm igniting within them.

And Greg? He was lost—utterly, beautifully lost—in the woman who was breaking and saving him all at once.

Cammy rode him with wild, relentless rhythm—each movement pushing Greg closer to the precipice of madness. She was a fire goddess reincarnated, unleashing every ounce of pent-up chaos and desire onto him.

The look in her eyes was untamed, like she needed to burn the world down to survive—and Greg was her willing fuel.

"Fuck! Cammy!" he groaned, nearly shouting. "Fuck me—don’t stop!"

One of his hands shot between them, fingers finding her clit and rubbing it with urgent, purposeful strokes, matching the rhythm of her hips.

The other hand gripped her waist, anchoring her in place. He could feel her body beginning to tremble, her thighs quivering as fatigue threatened to overtake her.

But she didn’t give in. Her body moved like she was chasing her own destruction—fast, desperate, trembling with passion and pain.

She leaned down to bite at his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to mark, to claim, to feel something real in the middle of everything spinning out of control.

Without missing a beat, Greg bucked upward, his hips slamming into her, taking over the pace, intensifying the friction.

"Ah! Greg—yes! Yes, right there! Don’t stop, please—don’t you dare stop!" she cried out, her voice cracking from the overwhelming pleasure building within her.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. His movements became primal, focused only on pushing her over the edge.

And then he felt it.

Cammy’s entire body seized as if struck by lightning. Her hips halted, back arching, nails digging into his forearm with desperate force. Her inner walls clamped around him, fluttering and contracting with fierce intensity.

"Ah—ah—AHHH!" she screamed, her orgasm hitting like a tidal wave, drowning her in electric ecstasy.

Greg gritted his teeth, barely able to hold on as the tight, rhythmic pulses of her climax sent him spiraling over the edge. "Oh, fuck—Cammy!" he shouted, losing control.

With one final thrust, he erupted inside her, his release shuddering through him in powerful, convulsive waves. His body shook beneath her, every nerve alight, every breath stolen.

As they both came down from their high, Cammy’s body collapsed on him. Her head rested between his shoulder and chest.

For a moment, they stayed like that—bodies tangled, hearts pounding, the world outside forgotten, the rain painting streaks across the fogged windows.

Her ears listened to his fast-beating heart.

His arms wrapped around her back like he never wanted to let go.

They had crossed a line they could never uncross.

And neither of them knew what would come next.

Greg pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and whispered, "I love you, Cammy... I truly do. I hope you’ll stay by my side, always."

The words should’ve filled her heart with joy—should’ve made her melt. But instead, they cut through her like a blade. A deep, aching stab that twisted in her chest.

She wanted to say it back—God, she wanted to. The words danced at the tip of her tongue, desperate to be heard. Would it be wrong to give him that hope?

But something inside her held her back. Not yet. Not now. It wasn’t the right time—not when everything was still so uncertain, so fragile.

One day, maybe. One day, when the truth no longer felt like a ticking bomb between them. Then, she’d say it freely. Wholeheartedly.

But for now... silence was the only answer she could give.