Page 41 of The Bossy Billionaire

“I have struggled staying away from you. I can’t wait any longer,” I tell her, eager to have her back in my bed. It’s the truth; keeping myself in New York just to try to keep distance between us almost killed me. I know that distance is not what we need, despite her brothers’ warnings. I snuck in this afternoon and watched her sleep. The number of minutes I have spent looking at this woman when she isn’t aware is frightening, yet I still can’t get enough.

“We don’t need to rush. I am not going anywhere,” she says, smiling up at me. She has no idea what those words mean to me. Pushing into my bedroom, I lower her feet to the floor, and we stand toe to toe as the mood settles. I don’t hit the lights, the moonlight now streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering us a soft glow, the blue light streaking onto the bed.

“It’s been a long time…” she says, suddenly looking a little unsure.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do…” While I am never usually one for softness and caressing in bed, I know this time it needs to be different. My breathing is still rapid in anticipation, and I lift my hand to gently stroke her cheek, touching her to ensure this is real. God, she looks so fucking beautiful. “…but are you okay if I take these?” I ask her as my hands land on either side of her glasses, and I start to pull them away from her face as she nods.

“I want that. I mean, I want you. I want this,” she says, her words stumbling out together, and I smirk because we are on the same page. I place her glasses on the side table and turn back to her, sinking my hands around her waist and pulling her to me.

“I want you too,” I murmur my confirmation as my lips touch hers. I try to go slow, but I am too worked up. The stress of the past few days, the panic of her being hurt last night, along with the reality that I haven’t so much as kissed a woman in months. The fact that I have thought of nothing but Lucy fucking Bloomer for weeks, and now as she moans into my mouth, I can barely be a gentleman.

“I want to see you,” she says quietly, our kisses not stopping as her hands find my shirt, unbuttoning it with fast-moving fingers. I help her a little and fling it from my shoulders, her hands immediately coming to my chest before they float slowly down my torso.

My skin heats at her touch, her fingers scorching it with every inch they glide over. When my tongue dives into her mouth, my kisses turn ferocious, and I grip on to her tight, pulling us together. I run my hands down her sides, getting to the hem of her top before I lift it, my fingertips skirting across her soft skin as I do. She raises her arms high above her head, and I scoop the top from her body, throwing it to the floor to see her in the black lace bra I have had visions about.

“Jesus,” I murmur. Her hair is a little messy as it falls down her shoulders, her eyes wide, her lips parted. With the moon shining from behind her, she looks like a fucking innocent goddess that I am going to fuck into oblivion tonight. I lean into her quickly, needing my lips on hers as I kiss her again before my lips travel across her jaw.

“You are fucking beautiful, Luce,” I whisper in her ear as my mouth trails down her neck, my hands feeling her body at her waist. I shiver as her hands glide up my arms, circling at my neck.

“Huxley…” she moans, my hands coming to cup her breasts as I feel her curves. I pull the straps of her bra down her shoulders, tasting her sweet jasmine scent across her collarbone, my lips now moving of their own accord, finding their way over her body completely automatically, my head totally lost to my heart at this point.

Her hands slowly skim down my bare chest to my torso, and I push my hips into hers on instinct, as her hands lower to my belt. I kiss up her neck, my hands delving into her hair, pulling her lips back to mine. She moans in my mouth as her hands make quick work of opening my belt and my trousers before she pushes them down.

“Put your hands on me, Luce…” I murmur against her lips, wanting her to feel how hard she makes me. We continue to kiss as her hands explore, coming to the waistband of my underwear before she runs her fingers across, pushing them down as well. As my underwear falls to the floor, I stand naked in front of her, my dick rock-hard.

“Bossy.” Her voice is a mere wisp across my lips as I run my hands to her back and unclip her bra, pulling it away from her body. I can’t stop touching her, exploring her, with my hands, with my mouth. My lips trail her neck, her head falling back, and her eyes closing as her hands lower and one wraps around me. I almost stumble.

“Fuck,” I groan. Her hand on me is everything, and I grit my teeth to try to right myself. It would be a fucking embarrassing shame if I came too early in her hand.

“You’re big,” she whispers, a little panicky, and I grin. Kissing my way back up to her mouth, I cradle her head in my hands.

“You do wonders for my ego.” My hands move to her jeans, wanting to get her just as naked as I am, but she balks a little. “Luce?” I pull back and look at her.

“It’s just… I mean… I haven’t…” I start to feel disappointment that she has changed her mind and doesn’t want this, but she continues.

“No one has seen my scar,” she says quietly, her eyes closing, and I have never hated anything as much as I do that hospital fire right now.

“We all have battle scars, baby girl. Some are just a little more visible than others,” I say, bending, grabbing her under the knees and lifting her to my body. She wraps her legs around my waist tightly as I walk her to the bed, laying her on her back.

“Show me,” I say, standing totally naked in front of her.

“It’s not very nice,” she whispers, still a little unsure. I see her chest moving rapidly, and I know the only way to move past this is to get it over with.

“Luce, you are fucking beautiful to me; a little scar is not going to scare me away.” I mean it. “Let me unwrap you,” I murmur, leaning over and opening her jeans. Popping the button and lowering the zip, I start to shimmy them from her waist, going as slow as possible, waiting for her to stop me. But she doesn’t. Her breathing escalates, her perfect breasts bobbing up and down, and she bites her lower lip.

“You and that fucking lip,” I growl, leaning over her and taking her lips in mine as I push her jeans off her legs, letting them fall to the floor. I move onto the bed, skimming my hands up her sides, feeling all her dips and curves, memorizing her body and feeling my way. Her hands sink into my hair, pulling it a little as I lower my hand to her underwear, skimming my fingers across the lace.

I can’t help myself as I lower my lips down onto her neck and drag them across her chest. I mold her breast in my palm before I trail my tongue over her nipple. It pebbles immediately, so I nip it with my teeth, sucking on her, before I do the same to the other one.

“Oh God… Huxley,” she moans as her body squirms, but I haven’t finished exploring yet. I lower even farther, my lips trailing down her tummy, kissing along her hips and to the waistband of her lace.

“These need to go,” I growl, my fingers skimming the hem, before I run them across the lace. Feeling her hot and wet, my nostrils flare in anticipation. I have never moved so slow and caring in my fucking life. It is torture of the best kind.

I pull the lace from her waist and straight down her legs, my hands caressing the skin of her hips and thighs, feeling the familiar raised scar. I move down her body more and put my lips to it.

“Huxe,” she gasps.

“Relax, baby, let me kiss you,” I murmur as my lips trail from the top of her thigh to the middle. Taking my time, peppering kisses all over it, I pull the lace to her feet. I can see it in the moonlight. It is raised, it is pink, but it is small and symmetrical and nothing she needs to hide. Running my hands up and down her thighs, my lips continue to pepper back up her inner thighs, with only one thing on my mind now.

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