Page 64 of The Billionaires

An hour passes, but sleep doesn’t come.

I debate jerking off, as is becoming a tradition.

Something stops me. Somehow, it feels wrong to do this with Juno so close. Or maybe I just feel pathetic settling for my fist when what I really want is?—

No. I’m just hungry… for food. That’s it. I bet if I eat some lychee panna cotta, I’ll sleep like a drunk baby.

I slide my feet into slippers and march to the kitchen.

Huh.

Do I hear the sound of someone scurrying about in there? Also, what’s with that light?

I carefully step inside. The light is coming from the refrigerator, and illuminated by it is Juno. She’s wearing the sexiest, most sheer nightie I’ve ever seen and eating the panna cotta that was my goal straight out of the storage jar with her bare hands, like a starved animal.

I clear my throat. “Channeling a racoon?”

She nearly drops the precious jar, then examines me with a gasp, her gaze lingering on my naked torso. Then she licks her fingers clean, almost as an afterthought, and swallows everything with an audible gulp.

Fuck me. My biology is taking over my body completely. My nostrils flare and my legs carry me to the fridge—at the same time as my cock stirs, which means I should be anywhere but in Juno’s company.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers when I’m close enough for another kiss.

As she talks, her chest heaves, making me aware of her pebbled nipples.

Am I dreaming this? I had a wet dream just like this the other night, only she wore even less.

With effort, I suppress my lurid imaginings and nod at the jar in her hands. “I have a craving… for panna cotta.”

“Oh.” She dips her index and middle fingers into the jar again, only to then extend her hand toward me. “Want?”

Without a second of hesitation, I pounce. An eyeblink later, her fingers are in my mouth.

Juno’s eyes widen. There’s a real possibility she was joking about feeding me this way—or didn’t think the offer through.

Well, it’s too late now. I do to her fingers what I’m dying to do to her nipples… and pussy. I suck them gently, my tongue lapping every bit of deliciousness it encounters.

She drops the jar. With a dexterity I didn’t know I possessed, I catch it mid-air and set it on the nearby counter—all without letting go of her now-panna-cotta-free fingers.

She jerks her hand away from my mouth, drops her gaze to take in my raging erection, and blushes like the strawberry that was meant to be the topping for the panna cotta.

When she meets my gaze again, her face is completely red and her voice is husky as she whispers, “You’ve got dessert all over your mouth.”

I feel the truth of her statement with my tongue. Against my better judgement, a wicked grin stretches my mouth as I parrot her offer. “Want?”

Insanity is clearly contagious.

Her eyes flare, her chest heaves faster, and just when I think she’s going to run away screaming, she grabs the back of my head and pulls my mouth to hers.

My heart rate surges. The last time, the kiss was amazing, but this time, it’s maddening. My breathing turns ragged, my cock grows achingly hard, and all I want is to rip Juno’s nightie off, like a caveman.

She moans into my mouth, her breath scented with the sweetness of the panna cotta as her tongue dances with mine.

Fuuuuck.

Where’s that robot body when you need one? This biological one is out of control.

With a low growl, I grab her buttocks, lift her off her feet, and sit her on the counter, sweeping off the panna cotta and whatever else was there. Distantly, I hear the glass jar break as it hits the floor, and I pull away from the kiss, breathing hard.

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