Page 63 of The Billionaires' Prize

“You’re good with people,” she muses.

I want to be good with her. For her.

She nestles against me, content to snuggle. I love the way she fits in my arms. How she leans into me as if there’s nowhere she’d rather be.

The tender moment doesn’t stop my cock from waking. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to be near her without getting a hard-on again. Hell, I might not be able to think about her.

Especially after that BJ in the kitchen last night. I suck in a sharp breath and mentally tick through all the items on my to-do list for the week.

“Have you already eaten?” she asks a few minutes later.

“Not yet.”

She peels herself away from my chest with a sexy little moan. “I guess I should feed you then.”

Her words send a bolt of desire through me. Forget the to-do list.

My nerves sizzle with the need to strip her out of this cute little outfit and lick her all over. Find every spot that makes her gasp. Eat my lunch off her smooth skin. Or better yet, I’ll just dine between her thighs.

“You should,” I agree.

She scoots off my lap and opens the paper bag I brought. I lean forward and pluck it from her fingers, moving it out of theway. She turns, putting her hands on my shoulders, her brows raised in question.

Taking her by the hips, I position her in front of me and push her gently against the desktop as I stand.

The air charges between us. I rub my thumbs up and down her hips, then slowly drop my hands to her thighs. “But I’m not hungry for a sandwich.”

She makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a purr, then tightens her arms around my neck. Her breasts press tight to my chest, and I lean over her, lining up my hips to hers. My cock nestles against her belly, wishing we weren’t separated by all these layers.

“I know I shouldn’t find that so hot, but. . .” She waves a hand toward the door.

“If I hadn’t gotten rid of him, Roman would have,” I assure her.

She presses up on her toes and peppers a kiss against my chin. “But I like it when you do it,” she whispers.

Fuck me.

Ducking my head, I nibble a path from her shoulder to her ear. Her meaning isn’t lost on me.

“Are you wet for me, Beauty?” I nip her earlobe, and she shivers in my hold.

“Mmhmm.”

Of course she is. She likes it when I’m protective of her.

I slant my lips across hers, and she moans, sliding her fingers into my hair. My hands glide down her gorgeous body, memorizing every dip and curve. Her ass fills my hands, and I pull her tight against my erection, letting her know just how much she turns me on.

What I pour into the kiss but don’t dare say out loud is just how possessive I feel. How I wish I could bar everyone but Roman and her assistant from this floor. Or better yet, take herback to my place and keep her there, high above the city, safely away from prying eyes.

If only Gabe’s Hamptons house hadn’t turned into such a disaster, we could take her there. . .

She tugs my lower lip between her teeth, and my patience snaps. Everywhere is too far away. I press a hand to the desk on either side of her and give its soundness a test shove.

“It’ll hold,” she murmurs, trailing her lips down my jaw to my throat.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

“What is?” Another round of kisses.

---