Page 72 of One Wealthy Wedding

“What?”

He’s stroking over the skin of my inner arm now, and I’m leaning in, my stupid body hoping for more.

“You look so irritated with me,” he says.

“Keep going.” I swallow. “I’m sufficiently desensitized, I swear.”

“Sufficiently desensitized? You sure?” He smiles crookedly at me. “Come here, then.”

The sooner I do whatever silly thing he wants, the sooner I can leave. He’s too much. There’s no air, no space, and all I see is him.

I stand in front of him. He looks at me with laughing eyes.

“On my lap, princess.”

“Why?”

“You want to sell this or not?” He raises a brow.

“When would I need to sit on your lap in public?” I cross my arms as I look down at him.

“Scared you’re going to like it too much, I know.”

His cocky look makes me grind my teeth. I huff and perch gingerly on his leg.

“That won’t do.” He laughs and pulls me back into his chest.

If I thought he was overwhelming before, it’s nothing compared to now. I close my eyes and I breathe in Theo. He’s warm, and his chest is broad and firm.

“Relax,” he whispers again. I force my shoulders down, and I let myself melt into him. My shoulder blades to his pecs. My head on his shoulder. He breathes, deep and even, and somehow, instead of feeling awkward and weird, it feels good. He smells delicious, just like he did in the car earlier.

I could get used to this.

“Like that, yes.” His voice is a rumble at my back. “I’m going to touch you.” I expect a hand on my arm, or around my stomach, but instead, his fingers sift through my hair.

I relax further with each gentle stroke. His heartbeat thuds against my back.

“Not so bad, right?”

“I hate it,” I say, but my breathy voice betrays me.

He laughs softly. “Bet you’ll hate this too.”

Before I can ask, Theo’s lips make contact with my neck. They’re soft, and his stubble is prickly and rough.

His tongue tastes my skin.

I arch.

He freezes.

“Cat?” he asks hoarsely.

I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m torn. The word please is on my lips, but I don’t know whether I want him to stop or continue.

He brushes his lips over my pulse again, nips softly at my skin. Pleasure zips up my spine, pools low in my stomach.

“That’s so good,” he says. “Just like that.” Another nip, and an embarrassingly breathy sound comes from my throat.

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