Page 295 of The Billionaires

I gulp, feeling deliciously exposed under his ravenous gaze. The fact that he’s completely dressed only intensifies the sensation. My skin turns hot as a blush covers my entire body.

“You’re gorgeous,” Adrian whispers hoarsely—or I think he does because he then drags his tongue down my belly, jumbling the last remnants of my brain.

Dazedly, I wonder where that tongue is headed. And then I know. It’s what my books would call “my most secret place.”

Is he about to?—

He is. Giving my clit the most sensual of licks, Adrian proceeds with his tender ministrations, each one eliciting a moan from my mouth.

A tsunami builds in my core.

Panting, I grasp his hair, pulling him closer to my sex. “Yes, yes!” The tension gathering inside me is so strong, so overwhelming, that only seconds pass before the tsunami makes landfall.

With a cry, I come, my toes curling as hot ecstasy rushes down my spine.

Panting, I open my heavy eyelids.

Huh. Did I pass out for a second there?

Last I checked, Adrian was dressed, but now, he’s deliciously naked—and his manhood is bigger and harder than in any of my fantasies, so much so there’s a not-unpleasant quiver in the center of my womanhood.

And yes, the “hoods” mean cock and pussy, respectively.

“That was amazing,” I breathe out.

His lips quirk with masculine pride. “I’m glad.”

I reach for his cock, but as my fingers brush the velvety skin, Adrian draws away.

“I want to return the favor,” I explain shyly.

His eyes gleam, and his voice is husky. “As much as I’d love that, I want to be inside you.”

Gulp. How can this one sentence make me go from sexually satiated to its complete opposite?

“Assuming,” he continues, “that the honor of GDing you is still on the table. I would understand if?—”

“Yes,” I gasp. “You can have me on the table.”

He smiles roguishly. “For your first time, how about we use a bed?”

I nod with way too much enthusiasm.

“You know it might hurt, right?” Adrian asks. “I’ll do my best to be gentle, but?—”

“Yes. I’m ready.” I dart a worried glance at his beautiful-and-hopefully-not-too-big deflowering instrument.

That which I’m looking at twitches… and maybe winks at me.

“And you know what to expect in general?” Adrian continues softly.

“I’ve seen lots of porn,” I say with a confidence I do not feel.

Hey, my preparation is better than that of any of the heroines from historical romances, where they either get a clue from farm animals or awkward chats with their mothers and other married ladies. Case in point, Daphne from Bridgerton didn’t even know about the pull-out method, or sperm in general. Just one cum shot would’ve educated her, not to mention a bukkake video, where the actresses borderline drown in the stuff.

“Real life can be different from porn,” Adrian says, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “But either way, do you have any requests or suggestions?”

“No choking, please,” I say earnestly. “And maybe don’t slap my face with your dick… this time around. Oh, and if your attitude toward anal has changed since you wrote in your journal, let’s skip that for today too, at least as far as my butt goes.”

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