Page 50 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

I dive in, smashing my face to her. With my lips closed over her and my tongue lapping up her juices, I close my eyes and groan. So sweet, so tangy, so perfectly addicting. She doesn’t disappoint, crying out my name and moaning dirty sounds of need. I add my finger to the mix as I circle my tongue around her clit. She bucks up, yelling incoherent nonsense that mostly resembles a desperate, wanton plea.

“Don’t stop, Caleb. Oh, please, don’t stop.”

She writhes on the bed, and before too long, I push her thighs up over my shoulders to keep her steady. I obey her loud begging, and I don’t stop. Why would I, when I’m the luckiest bastard on earth to be able to taste and treasure her like the delicious, spicy, sweet treat she is.

“Caleb.” She chants my name as she drops her hands to my head. I let her push my face down, and when she bucks up and thrusts into my mouth, I double down on licking. And nipping. Sucking. All of it. I keep at her hot, wet pussy and hard little bundle of nerves until she cries out, seemingly choking on air as she strains to inhale.

Her thighs clamp down on my head as she comes, and I thrust my fingers into her slick channel to prolong those fluttering pulses of her orgasm.

“Now.” She licks her lips as she sits up. Her climax isn’t over. Trembling and quivering, she’s still coming, but she won’t lie back down. “I need you. Now.”

I let her move to her side and hurry to get my jeans and boxers off. My dick springs free, bobbing and dripping pre-cum from the tip. Before I can kick the pants off completely, she pushes me until I roll. Flat on the bed, I barely register that my jeans have fallen. And with them the condom in my pocket.

“Wait. Condom.”

She shakes her head as she straddles me, eyes narrowed, and brow furrowed as she still rides out her first orgasm. “I’m clean, remember? And I got my shot.”

I nod and grab her ass as she covers me. Then with her fingers wrapped around my throbbing dick, she aims my cock head at her pussy and sinks down.

“Lauren!” I arch my back at the swift suction of her still-fluttering and clenching pussy. All the way to the hilt.

She’s seated on me, smiling so lazily as she rocks back and forth. “I need this.”

I buck my hips up, eliciting a gasp at the sensation. “Then take it. Take what you want.”

She opens her eyes again to gaze down at me. Then she shifts to grab my hands, replacing them from the punishing grip I had on her ass with an even greedier grip on her breasts.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she warns between panted breaths for air as she lifts up and slams down on me.

I can’t reply, too carried away with the orgasm that’s hurtling toward me too fast. It’s always too fast because I can see myself buried deep inside her for a long, long time.

“Whatever you want, Lauren,” I vow anyway. “All you have to do is ask.”

I hope she isn’t so delirious with desire that she misses what I say. I might have been intimidated and cautious when we got in here. I wasn’t quick to share my feelings then, but I feel a strong urgency to tell her now.

“Just ask, and it’s yours.” I’m yours, I want to say.

Each word packs a punch, and as she comes again and prompts me to fill her with my cum in a brutal orgasm of my own, I realize I mean every single one of them.

I’d do anything for this woman who’s quickly stealing my heart.

Chapter 20

Lauren

I’m not hungover when I awake late the next morning. We didn’t drink too much, just enough to lend a filter to the night. I was already sobering up when we came into the hotel room and the sex shocked me clear to all my senses. The sweet things Caleb said got through to me too. It wasn’t the alcohol talking. When he said he wanted me, I believed him. He didn’t need to tell me how badly he wanted me. I saw it. I felt it.

I moan as I stretch my arms and legs against him, once more in a tight spooning hold. The motion pushes my bare ass against his groin, and he grunts as he wakes, tightening his muscled arm around me.

“Morning,” he says sleepily.

I hum in response.

“Sleep well?” he asks as he traces his fingers over my stomach, a lazy figure eight. A wide yawn follows.

I nod and snuggle back against him.

“How are you feeling?”

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