Page 22 of The Billionaire's Wife

I chuckle softly. “I asked you first.”

She smiles, looking down at the water. “I feel … good about it.” She looks to meet my gaze, her eyes a mixture of trepidation and hope.

“Yeah?” I ask, stepping toward her.

Her smiles widens, although she’s still acting shy. “Yeah,” she says with a small shrug. “It was … good.”

I reach for her under the water, grabbing her waist and tugging her toward me. “You’re right, it was good,” I agree.

Her cheeks go red.

“So you’re not regretting anything?” I ask, surprising myself at how much I care about her response. I’m practically holding my breath, praying she’ll say no.

She shakes her head. “No, not regretting anything. Are you?” A flicker of uncertainty shows on her face.

I tug her closer to me so that her chest is flush with mine, staring down at her. “Regretting?” I repeat. “If anything, I’ve spent the entirety of the day thinking about doing it again.” I reach down to lightly lift her up, causing her to wrap her legs around my waist, floating in the water. I settle my arms around her waist, my hands at the small of her back. I nuzzle my face close to her ear. “And everything else I could do to you,” I murmur.

“Yeah?” she breathes into my ear.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Would you like that?” I nibble lightly on her ear. I glance over her shoulder, at the beach, at the lawn chairs about a hundred feet away where everyone else is sitting. They can barely see us from here, and even if they were looking, we just look like a normal husband and wife enjoying the ocean. There are a handful of others littered across the beach, but none of them are nearby.

Ella takes in a shuddering breath. I lean back to meet her gaze, and I grin at what I see there. Desperation, desire, need. She wants this as much as I do. And that’s all I needed to know.

I position one of my hands under her ass, squeezing, holding her against me. My free hand snakes between us, pressing against her bare stomach and traveling slowly upward. I gently reach under her bikini top, cupping her bare breast beneath the water.

I slowly roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, causing her to suck in a breath of air. She ever so slightly arches her back, pressing her breasts toward me. I grin, positioning my hand to run my thumb over her nipple, over and over again.

She closes her eyes and sighs, leaning her head back slightly. I remove my hand and then tug the bikini top down so that it’s bunched below her now-exposed breasts. I switch to her other breast, massaging her nipple and then pinching it lightly. I spend a few minutes alternating back and forth until Ella is practically panting, arching her back and whimpering.

I want her good and ready for me.

I move my hand from her breast and down, across her stomach, and then under her bikini bottoms. My finger slides along her slit, and even in the water, I can tell how wet she is. Fuck. I’m already hard just feeling it.

I slowly insert a finger inside of her, and her mouth opens in a perfect O. “Alec,” she pants, glancing over her shoulder toward the shore. “We’re in public.”

I grin, responding by inserting a second finger inside of her and eliciting a soft cry from her. “What? You don’t want any beachgoers to know that I’m pleasuring you? That you’re panting and whimpering like a little slut?” The second comment is a bit of a risk, and I know it, but there’s a spark that flashes in Ella’s eyes right after I say it that tells me she’s just as turned on by the dirty talk as I am. It makes my grin wider. Fuck, I’m going to have fun with her.

She bites her lip, suppressing a moan as I begin pumping my fingers in and out of her.

“No one’s close enough to know what we’re doing,” I murmur on a much more real note, wanting to assuage any actual hesitancy she might have.

She nods, slowly grinding against my hand as I continue thrusting my fingers in and out of her. Without breaking my rhythm, I angle my hand so that my thumb can reach up and gently rub her clit in time with my pumps. A small, strangled sound escapes her, and her nails dig into the bare skin of my shoulders as she holds onto me for dear life.

“Alec,” she pants, her eyebrows furrowing in agonized pleasure. “I need more.”

“What do you need?” I taunt her.

“Alec,” she whines, reaching down between us, reaching for my cock.

I maneuver my arm in her way, lowering my head and forcing her to meet my gaze. “Use your words, sweetheart,” I murmur. “What do you want?”

She bites her lip, her chest heaving. “I want you inside of me,” she relents.

Fuck. My cock jumps at her words, readier than ever. I smile. “Take off your swimsuit bottoms,” I order, letting go of her so she can stand. She does as I say, removing her bikini bottoms and looping one of her arms through them so they won’t float away.

“Legs back around my waist,” I instruct, and I help her position herself back to where she was. It’s easier than this type of position ever has been, since the water is basically doing all the work of holding her up. I grip her hips, pulling her toward me, positioning my cock at her entrance. And then slowly, I slide inside.

The feeling is indescribable, and I sigh quietly at the pleasure that emulates from my core. Fuck, she feels good. Has any other woman felt this good? Surely they have, but I can’t seem to remember any of them.

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