Page 76 of The Billionaire's Princess

I’m no diamond expert. Just a guy who’s got some money to throw around and the smarts to trust the experts at Harry Winston. Evidently, they know what they’re doing, because shegasps at this thing—it’s like a perfectly cut square ice cube—and can’t hand it back to me fast enough.

I laugh.

“Thought you didn’t care about the money,” I say as I slide it on her finger.

“I can still tell you to fuck off if you try to get cheeky with me,” she says, her severe warning look losing most of its teeth when she can’t stop smiling.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

The mood quickly shifts when she puts her hands on my face and gives me several hard kisses that make goosebumps race across my skin and tell me she means business.

“Take me upstairs,” she says urgently.

“You got it.”

We can’t move fast enough. Luckily, I had the foresight—and that abundance of hope again—to book a suite earlier. By the time we hurry off the elevator and find our door, she can no longer keep her hands off me.

And thank God for that.

We reach for each other as I kick the door shut behind us, animals unleashed. It doesn’t help that we’ve spent a few lonely nights apart while I came to my senses when normally we make love at least once a day. Our kisses are the deep, wet, frantic kind that lead to nips and bites. She wants to slide my jacket off my shoulders but first needs to wait for me to let go of her tight ass. She kicks off her heels. Reaches under her dress to wiggle her way out of her panties, then tosses them aside. I would dearly love to get rid of the rest of my clothes and, more importantly, her dress, but my dick can’t wait that long.

Neither, it seems, can she.

She’s already at work on my belt, undoing it and unzipping me while also somehow keeping hold of my waistband and tugging me down the hallway after her. Her fiery gaze stays locked on my face the entire time. The fact that she wants me a millionth as much as I want her feels like a miracle to me. If you’d told me a year ago that a woman like this was about to explode into my life, I would’ve laughed in your face.

But she’s here. And she wants to stay.

She backs into the bed, then quickly reverses course and pushes me down on my back. Hey. Whatever works. I shimmy my pants and boxer briefs just far enough down my thighs to be out of our way. There’s no time for anything else. She, meanwhile, shimmies her dress up to her hips, revealing that red patch of hair and the sweetest, hottest pussy in the world. Then she straddles me, and I take my dick in hand. But I pause at the last moment because something isn’t right.

She frowns down at me, flustered and impatient. Just the way I like her.

“What?”

“What did I tell you about that hair?” I say.

She pauses, a sultry smile flickering across her face. Lets her head fall back as she finds the pin in her hair. Pulls the pin out and shakes all that silky red goodness loose so it can drape around her face and shoulders.

Just the way I like it.

“Good girl,” I say, holding my dick so she can impale herself on me.

Which she does without further delay.

Her slick heat sucks me in and grips me hard enough for the room to swim in and out of focus. We quickly find a driving rhythm, and she rides me hard with her hands on my chest, abandoned in her passion. There’s something wildly illicit and intoxicating about seeing her like this, with her dress bunched up around her waist, her pale thighs flexing and her groin grinding against mine. Especially when she rears back and grips my ankles, a position that reveals the base of my dick, which is thick and ruddy inside her. I can’t take my eyes off her flushed cheeks, her hair as it swings back and forth with her movements or the hard points of her nipples, which are still hidden by her dress but impossible to miss.

Equally mesmerizing? The way her expression shifts between smiles when we hit a spot she really likes and grimaces when we hit her sweet spot. And the way she mewls and pants and whispers to me, all of it encouraging me to fuck her harder. Faster.

I’m nothing if not a team player. My greedy hands fill themselves with her flexing thighs. Her swiveling hips. Her juicy ass. I give her everything I’ve got until my face is sweaty and her cries pitch higher as she straightens and puts her hands on her head as though she can’t fucking stand it for another second.

And she can’t, shouting out my name around her orgasm and stiffening as the pleasure possesses her. This is my cue to let myself go, which is a damn good thing, because I’m already going. She has a way of wrenching the pleasure from my body until I’m drained, then taking a little bit more and a little bit more. She’s never satisfied until that moment where my vision fades, and the ecstasy is so sweet that I’d swear I have one foot in heaven. We ride it out together, our strangled cries giving way to lingering moans and then, finally, harsh breathing as air makes its way back into our lungs and she collapses on top of me.

Time passes. I don’t know how much. Don’t care. But at some point, she levers up enough to look down at my face. She’s flushed. Amused. Gorgeous.

“Seems to me, this is where we came in,” she says.

“There are some similarities,” I say, anchoring my hand on her bare ass to keep her right where she is. “Only this time, you’re not walking out on me. Are you?”

Glorious smile. “I am not.”

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