Page 55 of The Billionaire Experience

When he couldn’t take any more, he placed his hands on her shoulders and physically encouraged her off him. She climbed his body slowly. The sensual slide of her breasts, belly, and then thighs against his sensitized cock caused his eyes to roll back into their sockets.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He could have laughed at how stunned he sounded—as if he’d never had a blowjob before. And he had, plenty of times. But Reagan brought something new to the table. Her technique was flawless, but it was her intent that had floored him. She was so damn present. She didn’t rush. Each unfolding moment seemed to introduce itself genuinely, and when it did, she held on for the ride.

“How to do what?” She asked so innocently he got lost in her wide green eyes for a beat.

He kissed her and then rolled her onto her back again. Against her mouth, he muttered, “How to turn me into a guy who nearly forgot how to hold out for longer than thirty seconds.”

Her smile was proud and pleased.

“You want me to go down on you now, or are you ready?” When her pupils flared, he thought he had his answer. Then he reached between their bodies and slipped a finger along her seam. She was wet and slick. “Fuck. You’re ready.”

She ground against his hand and encouraged him to finger her. She was creamy and soft and driving him further out of his mind with every breathy sigh that escaped her lips. As she grew wetter and warmer, he became harder and harder.

Slipping his fingers away, he propped himself onto his elbows and nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. The heat beckoned him closer when she tilted up to meet him. He slid past her folds, ready to pound them both into oblivion until he had an inconvenient realization.

He froze, hovering over her, embedded in her warmth. “Condom. I should?—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in months. I’m clean. What about you?”

“Clean as a whistle,” he said around his thundering heartbeat. He’d always been careful when it came to protection. Until Reagan had erased his mind with that damn blowjob.

STDs and pregnancy were big considerations, but so was putting a barrier between them. He wanted to feel her. He wanted her to ride him bareback. “You’re not angling to have a billionaire’s baby, are you?”

A laugh followed her brief expression of shock. Mouth open, she swatted his arm. “You better be kidding.”

“I’m kidding.” He’d had wealthy acquaintances suggest that women had taken them home for that reason. To him, it had sounded like bullshit. “As long as you’re sure.”

Heels on his ass, she applied pressure. “Are you sure?”

He stopped resisting her and pushed in to the hilt. “I’m sure I want to come,” he said with some effort.

Her eyes were dark with want.

“Do you want to come hard with my cock inside you?” He leaned down to lick her top lip before kissing it gently.

“Yes.” A broken whisper.

“Well, hang on, honey.” He pulled out a few inches before slamming into her. She cried out, her eyes shutting and her neck arching. He couldn’t contain his grin as he slipped out and in again. But when her channel tightened around him, his smile vanished.

Each time he slid out, her inner muscles gripped him. He ground his molars together, neck muscles so tight he worried they might cramp—or would have worried if his brain could focus on anything except how wet and warm and incredible she felt.

“So good,” she breathed.

“No shit,” he agreed.

She laughed.

He laughed with her.

The moment of levity vanished when he drove into her again. He propped his weight on his elbows, cradling her face as his hips thrust again and again. When those green eyes locked on his, he didn’t look away, and neither did she.

He could have.

He probably should have.

When she’d taken his incredibly lickable cock into her mouth, she’d marveled at how large he was and then decided there was no way she would let him leave this room until she had every inch of that length and girth inside her.

She’d shut out comparisons to any other man, but when he entered her, she came to the fast conclusion that there was no comparison. No one she’d dated had measured up—literally or figuratively—to Brody.

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