Page 6 of Her Older Billionaire

Chapter 4

Beckham

I don’t regret tracking Allie’s phone and following the girls. Hannah needs a night out, and I need to protect what’s mine. Keeping an eye on them from the corner of the club seems like a reasonable solution.

But then I see her dancing. God, the way she moves so sensually has every muscle in my body clenched and ready to take her. When Allie brings the guys over to join them, it takes all of my significant willpower to keep myself from storming over there and ripping out their throats.

The only thing that stops me is the knowledge that she will be spending the night in my home tonight, and soon, she’ll be in my bed.

My woman.

My bed.

Those aremygoddamn lips she lets that uppity punk kiss.

When she gives him her number, I just about blow a gasket. If she goes with him, I'll follow, and nothing will stop me from punching his face in. But I watch the girls climb into their Uber alone and leave him standing on the sidewalk. So instead, I satisfy myself by giving him a piece of mind after their car is out of sight. One check with a few zeroes on the end ensures he won’t be calling.

Tomorrow, while we’re moving her stuff, I’ll need to make sure Hannah understands how things are going to be. I want her to have the freedom to be herself, but I need to be there to make sure she’s okay. That means protecting and providing for my woman, tasting that sweet pussy every morning, giving that luscious body countless orgasms with my thick cock, and breeding her until she has my baby.

???

The next morning, the movers call and say the POD will be delivered in the afternoon. I spend the time working out, trying to get some of theneedout of my system.

It doesn’t work.

Hannah seems to be looking up jobs on her laptop. She sits at the island in the kitchen and every time I walk by, I have to adjust my raging hard on. She looks so fucking beautiful, with her short, dirty blond waves, and curves for miles. I want to spread those creamy thighs and lick the honey between them for days. It doesn’t help that she’s wearing an aged white t-shirt that clearly shows the shape of her nipples. My mouth waters as I imagine marking her tits with my teeth.

She catches me staring, but I don’t look away. I let the heat fill my gaze, let her see how much I want to make her come. I deliberately adjust my cock, making sure she sees how thick and hard I am for her. Her pupils dilate and her breath shortens.

It’s time. I’ve been trying to give her time to adjust. I know it’s only been two days, but it feels like fucking forever. I can’t wait any longer. I stride toward her and grab the back of her neck, ready to claim her cherry red lips when someone knocks on the door.

“I, uh, I’ll go get it,” Hannah stutters as she stands. I let my hand run down her arm as she moves toward the door.

“It’s the movers,” she calls from the front door.

“Tell them to park the truck in the driveway by the garage. I’ll go open it.” I need a moment to get myself under control if I don't want to bend her over a car in the garage and show everyone who she belongs to.

She needs more from me right now than just some heart-stopping orgasms. Hell, just two days ago, she’d been dumped by her asshole fiance, and now she had to build a life from scratch in a brand new town. It’s time to step up and make sure I help make the transition as easy as possible.

Plus, it feels damn good to move her stuff into my house. Hannah isn’t going anywhere.

The rest of the afternoon, we unload furniture and boxes into the garage. By the time evening rolls around, we’re both dirty, sweaty, and hungry.

“Hey, why don’t I order us some pizza tonight? We can relax and watch a movie with Allie when she gets home.” I pull out my phone and add, “You go ahead and take a shower while I get things put away.”

“That sounds great. Thanks.” I watch her full, round ass as she makes her way up the stairs. I palm my erection and make a vow that before the night is over Hannah will be mine.

Chapter 5

Hannah

“Thank God you ordered pizza. I’m starving.” Allie grabs a piece and slumps onto the overstuffed chair in front of the television. “What are we watching?” she asks.

“We were waiting for you to get home before we picked.” Beckham loads his own slice onto his plate and sits on the sofa. I’ve just come down from my shower, wearing a comfy pair of sweats and a tank top. The pepperoni smells amazing, and I quickly grab a slice. That’s when I notice the only seat available is on the sofa next to Beckham.

I glance around nervously. He notices.

“Hannah, come sit down and relax.” Beckham pats his hand on the seat next to him. I can’t get out of this.

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