Page 61 of Playboy Billionaire's Fake Marriage

He shuts off the ignition, the corner of his lips lifting in a knowing smirk. Without even looking at me it’s as if he knows what I’m thinking.

I grit my teeth in frustration. It’s too late to back out. While I’m determined not to go to bed in this state of arousal, I’m also not prepared to lose to him by begging.

I lower my voice to a throaty whisper “How nice for you. Well, I also happen to have a nice fat vibrator.”

He goes still.

Good, that got his attention.

I dig in. “I mean, it doesn’t feel half as good as your cock. For instance, it doesn’t throb or twitch or always hit the right spot, but that’s where my imagination comes in.”

“Stop it.” He snaps.

“I’ll just think about your big hard veiny cock pounding my soaked pussy into submission, dragging against my G-spot as I come all over you, screaming.”

“Fuck Stella” he growls, clearly at breaking point.

“Anyway, you get my drift, so I’m good tonight, thanks.” Reaching across the center console, I pat his abs, and I swear his cock fucking leaps in his pants. I can’t resist stroking lower until I palm his hard length along his inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” He bites out in a voice as rough as gravel.

I give him a quick squeeze and whisper, “I’m just giving you a neighborly warning. In exactly thirty seconds from when I shut my bedroom door, I’ll be screaming out your name with or without you inside me. You decide.”

Ryan snaps. Like a coiled snake suddenly striking he flies out of the car and heads to my side.

Uh-oh. I’ve done it now.

He looks wild. But I can’t help the bolt of excitement that streaks through me. Not only for winning our little game but because, finally, I’ll get what I’ve been dreaming of: Ryan, unhinged.

Chapter Nineteen

Ryan

From the first moment I met Stella, I knew the green-eyed witch would be the death of me. I just didn’t envisage death by blue balls. Which is exactly what would happen to me if I’m not buried inside her tight heat in the next few minutes.

I just need to get her upstairs.

I step out, round the car, and throw her door open, but I don’t bother helping her out of the bucket seat. She can find her own feet without me fucking pulling her out.

Frankly, it’s because if I touch her right now, I’ll take her here in this parking garage.

I could practically smell her arousal all evening. Yet she’s spun some magic on me. I feel my hands trembling. I’ve never ever been this close to losing control like this.

“You have ten seconds to get yourself out before the doors lock.”

I spin on my heels, ignoring the look of confusion on her face and storm off toward the bank of elevators. I only said that because I need her upstairs asap.

“Fine. Alright!” She calls after me.

I don’t respond.

I hear the car door slam so I know she’s left the car. I glance back to see her walking toward me, her heels clacking on the concrete. My eyes drink her in– toned legs and shapely calves I’d like to take a bite out of, her white outfit draping and clinging to her body in way that makes my balls ache even more. And that sexy mouth that can make a guy’s ears bleed or make the most erotic sounds when I’m deep inside her.

She stops halfway. “Ryan?”

“What?” I snap.

“You’re mad.”

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