Page 74 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

I wonder why I ever tried to make more complicated than that.

He jerks free and reaches down to haul me up by my upper arms, watching me with unmistakable appreciation.

“This is how you treat your fiancé?” he asks hoarsely, gripping himself as I straddle him. “Trying to kill me before I get you down the aisle?”

I don’t bother trying to control my smirk. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Good.”

He holds his dick ready. I ease down on top of it, bit by bit, until he’s all the way inside me and I feel the delicious strain as my body works to accommodate him. Our breath hisses. He grips my hips and bare ass, holding me in place as we both adjust. My eyes drift closed, and my heavy head falls back as the pleasure washes over me. Nerve endings all up and down my body spark to life, concentrating in my lips, nipples and clit. In that one exquisite moment, even the strands of my hair feel as though they’re tingling as they brush across the small of my back.

He gathers me closer and presses his lips to the divot between my collarbones, generating more ripples of sensation. I’m fine hanging out right here for the next, oh, fifty years or so, but he pulls back and taps me under the chin.

“Look at me.”

It takes a major effort, but I manage to raise my head and open my eyes. When I do, I’m startled by the naked reverence that greets me as I stare into his face. The sheen of tears is back, brighter than before.

“You’re everything. The way you smile. The way you make me laugh. The way you feel.” Shaky laugh as he runs his hands all over me. “The day I met you is the day my life started. Really started. Please tell me you know that.”

I hesitate.

Don’t judge me. It’s what I do.

“You can’t possibly love me as much as I love you,” I say.

“Yeah.” He blinks, releasing one of those crystalline tears down his cheek. I wipe it away, then suck my thumb into my mouth, determined to experience every possible part of him on this magical night. “I can. Okay?”

Before I can answer, he pulls me down and licks his way into my mouth again, which I consider a dirty trick, given my momentary vulnerability. Muscles clench high up between my thighs, gathering the pleasure into a tight knot and making me gasp helplessly.

“Okay?” he says again when he breaks the kiss.

This time, there’s no hesitation. A man like this deserves the best I can give. He deserves all I can give. Because I know that’s what he’s giving me.

“Okay,” I say, smiling.

I surge against him and we begin to move together, nice and easy. We have all night. Hell, we have the rest of our lives. I whisper encouragement to him with no real idea what I’m saying. Nonsense words. He whispers back in between smiles and kisses. My hair shifts back and forth around my shoulders. My willowy skirt tickles my thighs as I work my hips. The gathering ecstasy tumbles lower and lower inside me, generating pulses of pleasure. At first. But then all that pleasure concentrates, gathering strength before mushrooming through me and out of me on a high-pitched cry.

His response is immediate and animalistic. A sharp smack on my butt cheek to make me grind harder and faster. A growl. A sudden tension throughout his body as he stiffens. A ragged attempt at my name as he arches beneath me and comes and comes and comes.

When it’s all over, I collapse against him, pressing my damp face to his neck. He roots through my hair to my scalp, massaging and soothing me. I’ve just begun to regulate my heart rate and my breath when he speaks, his voice rough and lazy.

“So? Good week?”

We burst into joint laughter. I smack him on his taut abs, making him yelp. “I had a terrible week. As you know.”

“That’s your fault.” He shifts his fingertips to my nape, generating an involuntary coo from me. “No sympathy here.”

“This one thing did happen, though.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“My brother found my father’s updated will when he was going through his mother’s things. My father never signed it but… He referred to me as his beloved Ella.”

The change in my voice at the end catches his attention. He sits up straighter, which forces me to sit up straighter and meet his gaze. “Yeah? How did you feel about that?” he asks, watching me closely.

“Amazing,” I say, choking up a little. At my age, I’m getting too old for this orphan routine, but it’s still there. I’m learning to manage it better, but it’s still there. “Grateful. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until I heard it.”

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