Page 42 of Cinderella's Fling with the Off-Limits Billionaire

He placed the tray on the kitchen counter and then turned to face her. Their eyes met, and suddenly, nothing mattered.

Nothing.

There was nothing he could say that would change what she wanted—him. Right then and there. To hell with the future and how much she’d missed him and how much she wanted to know why he was here.

She simply walked right to him and lifted up onto the tips of her toes so she could place a kiss on his lips, and he returned it with the same desperate, passionate need. His hand curled around the back of her head, his fingers pushing through her hair, liberating it from the ponytail she wore, until it cascaded down her back, and then he was tangling his fingers in her hair and using it to tilt her head, so he could kiss her better, harder, with all the need that was a part of him, and of her.

He lifted her easily, carrying her through the suite to one of the palatial bedrooms, undressing her quickly then shucking his own clothes, groaning as their naked bodies brushed, before unfurling a condom over his length and driving into her on a powerful, guttural cry that was echoed by her own voice. They stayed just like that, frozen, locked together, eyes holding, lips parted, as the reality of this pulsed in the air around them.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, then wished she hadn’t, because it was too honest, too much. Surely, he’d felt the same? He was here, wasn’t he?

“I can tell,” he groaned, and then he was kissing her again, his body so powerful and commanding, her body so utterly under his spell. Every movement of his hips, every caress of his hand, had her senses going into overdrive.

If she had any doubts about exactly how much she’d missed him, they were dispelled by the relief she felt when he drove into her. It was like being put back together again; she was floating and ephemeral and glowing golden. It was fast and desperate, their explosion simultaneous, so they clung together, a tangle of limbs and perspiration and fast, frantic breathing.

Afterwards, it was like coming out of a strange dream. Her brain was foggy, she could hardly think straight, but she knew she had to.

She needed answers.

To understand.

“How—what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for work.”

It felt a little like a blade had plunged between her ribs, serrating her organs. She blinked away. Work. And while he was here, he thought he’d squeeze in a quick roll in the hay, for old time’s sake?

She pushed away from him quickly, sitting up on the edge of the bed in an attempt to catch her breath.

Beyond her, the city glittered but she barely noticed.

“But also, I wanted to see you.”

It was something, but not enough. She felt as though she’d been living to see him again. She felt completely in his thrall, and it terrified her.

“I want to keep seeing you.” The admission was raw, seemingly dragged from somewhere deep inside his soul.

She angled her face so she could see him, surprise in her features. “What does that mean?”

“I have business commitments here. The company we’ve acquired, I’m involved. I’m going to be here somewhat regularly. When I’m here, I want to see you.”

She couldn’t put her finger on why that bothered her. It wasn’t offensive. But nor was it enough.

As a child, she’d been very, very slight, and whenever she’d gone on a seesaw with just about anyone her own age, she’d been launched high up into the sky. Her counter-balances tended to be children at least three years younger.

She felt that same sense of weightlessness now, of imbalance, only this time, she was heavy with it, and he wasn’t. She was being pressed down into the ground by her need for him, and it was impossible to think he felt the same.

What he was suggesting was so casual, so lukewarm.

She wanted more.

But in lieu of more, could she take what he offered? She’d had two weeks without him, and now he was offering something. Could she think of it as weaning? Maybe if she could see him from time to time, she’d feel better. Maybe that would fix this overwhelming obsession she felt for him.

“I can’t see you here.”

“I’ve told you, I want you to stay at my apartment.”

Her throat felt thick. She didn’t speak.

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