Page 27 of Filthy Rich

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, his voice thick.

“No,” I say quickly, ready to laugh at the implication. “Nothing like that.”

“You have a boyfriend back home,” he says dully.

“No boyfriend. It’s just that I, ah…”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Well…yeah,” I say, dying of embarrassment. I’ll bet Viking Goddess back in the salon is no virgin. I’ll bet she knows her way around a man’s body and how to please someone like Lucien.

He goes still, frowning and cocking his head. “How can that be?”

“I was always just so focused on school and working.” My cheeks burn, but it feels important to tell him this next part, even though there’s no cool way to say it. “And I never met anyone I liked enough.”

“So…you’re apologizing for being a virgin.”

I think that over. “Kinda?”

“Interesting,” he says, one of his dimples making a fleeting appearance.

I’m definitely beginning to pick up on some amusement in his expression. “I just feel like you should know in case you want to, I don’t know…”

I trail off, beginning to feel sheepish. Especially when he flashes that wicked smile again.

“Lower my expectations? Take it easy on you? Bring in some other woman for backup in case you can’t handle me?”

“Well, yeah,” I finish lamely.

A pause while he looks at me with something that’s not quite a smile but sure does make his eyes shine. Something that makes me relax again. Something that telegraphs he doesn’t see me as an oddity or an antique porcelain figurine to be handled with kid gloves.

“I see.” He runs his hand up my inner thigh with utter focus, spreading my scarf dress apart and baring me to the banked intensity of his gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Evidently.”

“Good. Here’s a question for you. When I bought the Bugatti, do you think I went easy on it during the test drive? Drove it twenty miles an hour to protect it?” He slowly curls his fingers across the slick cleft between my legs, making my hips spasm. “Or do you think I took it on the open highway and floored it to see what that baby could do because I knew she could handle it?”

Welp. That’s all I need to hear.

We stare at each other, my body overheating all over again as I laugh, grab his collar and pull him back to me. “Vroom, vroom.”

He shakes his head, devouring me with his eyes in a swift once-over. “Everything about you delights me.”

Same, I want to tell him, but he never gives me the chance.

“Thank you for the privilege of being your first, Ms. Scott. I plan to take excellent care of you.”

His mouth covers mine again for a kiss that’s as deep as it is urgent. Then he slips away, sliding lower, brushing the halves of the scarf out of his way and introducing himself to my body. He yanks my strapless bra down, helping himself to my jiggling breasts and rubbing his face all over me. He massages and squeezes, licking my nipples and murmuring fervent words that I can’t quite make out. Then he continues his downward trajectory, those skilled hands stroking along my hips and belly.

I can’t stop squirming, but that’s nothing compared to what he has in store for me.

He drops to his knees by the side of the bed, yanks me to the edge, rips my panties down my legs and off and urges me to wrap my thighs around his head. Then he puts his mouth on me. There. Right there. His tongue is skilled, lapping me up and overflowing me with sensation as I writhe against him. He holds and strokes my thighs, making love to them the same way he makes love to my pussy.

It’s all too much.

I never stood a chance with him, but it’s still a surprise when the ripples mushroom and explode, slamming me into an orgasm that makes me shout with astonishment as my heels dig into his back and my body arches off the bed.

Oh, God.

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