My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 145: All I Want Is You (3)

"Shh..." Greg murmured, pressing his index finger against her lips, his touch featherlight yet commanding. "Be quiet. Stay still."

But Cammy couldn’t. Her instincts fought against submission, her fingers twitching as she tried to pull her wrist free—only to feel the soft, velvety rope constrict tighter against her skin.

A smirk ghosted across Greg’s lips. "The more you struggle, the tighter it gets." His voice was low, dark, edged with amusement as he straightened, putting distance between them.

Cammy exhaled sharply, ceasing her resistance. "I can see that," she admitted, her voice softer now, filled with something unspoken. Instead, she let her gaze follow him as he moved, standing tall at the foot of the bed.

He watched her—devoured her. His eyes, dark and brimming with hunger, roamed over her restrained form as if committing every inch of her to memory.

Then, without warning, he reached for her left ankle. His grip was firm, possessive, and when he yanked her leg toward him, a gasp tore from her lips.

"Greg—"

She barely had time to react before the silken rope coiled around her ankle, tightening, securing her in place. A thrill shot through her as he repeated the motion with her other foot, rendering her completely at his mercy.

Tied down. Exposed. Helpless beneath his gaze.

Greg straightened, his smirk deepening. "Now," he drawled, rolling his shoulders as if savoring the moment, "you’re exactly where I want you."

With a slow, willful tug, Greg pulled at the rope cinching her robe together. The fabric parted, slipping open like a gift undone. His smirk deepened as his gaze swept over her.

"So, you did wear something underneath... Interesting." His voice was entwined with amusement, but there was something darker beneath it—something possessive.

Cammy lifted her chin, meeting his gaze defiantly. "That’s right. And now that you’ve tied me up, there’s nothing you can do about it."

Greg let out a low, rumbling chuckle, one that sent a shiver down her spine. That laugh... it held secrets, promises.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, shaking his head as he slipped off the bed. "You underestimate me."

Her breath caught when she saw him open a drawer, retrieving something metallic. A flash of silver.

Scissors.

Her pulse quickened. "Wait! Don’t you dare!" Cammy’s voice was tied with both warning and desperation. "I love this nightslip!"

Greg twirled the scissors between his fingers, his smirk turning downright sinful. "I’ll buy you another one... in every color."

And before she could protest again, the cold steel met the delicate satin. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air, slow and merciless.

Cammy watched, helpless, as her nightslip was stripped away—ribbons of silk pooling at her sides before being discarded to the floor.

Greg exhaled in satisfaction, his gaze dark and predatory as it raked over her newly exposed skin. "Much better," he murmured, tilting his head as if admiring his handiwork. "Now, where were we?"

Greg stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze raking over her body—sprawled, bound, helpless beneath him. The robe still clung to her arms, framing her like an unwrapped gift, while the delicate blush of lace remained her only shield.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "Pink lace, huh? Looks exquisite on you. I should buy you more... in every shade." His voice was a low hum, appreciation mingled with something far more dangerous before walking back to the drawer.

Cammy swallowed, her breath uneven. "Greg, untie me," she urged, a note of frustration was heard in her tone. "This set is expensive—limited edition. They don’t make them anymore." Her voice softened, almost pleading. "At least free one of my arms or legs so I can take them off myself."

Greg let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head without even sparing her a glance. His back remained turned as he rummaged through the drawer, his movements slow, deliberate.

"Nope. Not gonna happen."

The sound of tearing cardboard and crinkling plastic echoed through the air, sharp and unmistakable.

Cammy’s heart stuttered. ’What was he doing?’

A shiver ran through her, anticipation thick in the air. "Greg... what are you doing?"

Still, he didn’t answer.

But when he finally turned, the gleam in his eyes told her everything.

Greg approached the bed with slow, measured steps, his hands tucked behind his back, his smirk roguish and dripping with mischief. Every movement was calculated, meant to draw out her anticipation—meant to make her squirm.

"Good thing I stocked up on fresh batteries," he murmured, his voice velvety smooth, thick with amusement.

Then, with a swift swing, he revealed what he had been hiding.

Cammy’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened, her pulse pounding in her ears.

She had never seen one in person before—but she knew exactly what it was.

The sleek, pink and white wand in his grip pulsed with quiet promise. Greg pressed the power button, and the moment it came to life, humming against his palm, even he looked momentarily surprised.

"Oh... the vibration on this is intense," he mused, tilting his head as if testing its weight. A slow grin stretched across his lips—wicked, teasing. "Let’s see how it feels, shall we?"

Before she could protest, before she could even breathe, he practically lunged onto the bed, settling himself between her already-spread legs.

Pinned beneath his dark gaze, her body tensed, her breath uneven.

She was completely at his mercy.

And Greg? He looked utterly delighted and excited by that fact.

"Why do you even have that?!" Cammy gasped, eyes locked onto the sleek, vibrating wand in Greg’s grip. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Never—not once—had she ever considered using something like that on herself. The very thought had always seemed unnecessary, almost foreign. But now? With him holding it, his eyes dark with wicked intent, she wasn’t sure if she should feel excited... or terrified.

Greg chuckled, completely at ease, as if he hadn’t just sent her pulse into a frenzy. "It was a freebie," he said, twirling the wand between his fingers with infuriating nonchalance.

"A client sent over some samples after we signed a deal to develop an app for their product line. Thought I’d keep a few."

Cammy barely had time to process his words before she felt it—the first touch.

A gasp tore from her lips as he traced the vibrating tip along the delicate skin of her inner thigh. It was barely a whisper of contact, but the sensation rippled through her like electricity, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Greg’s smirk deepened as he watched her reaction, his gaze heavy, knowing. "Breathe, Cammy," he murmured, dragging the wand higher, teasing, "we’re just getting started."