Page 83 of The Billionaires' Prize

He enjoys taking care of me like this. I like it too. My pussy is slick, begging for his attention.

“Don’t move.” He drops a kiss on my lips, then bends down to gather my things before disappearing into my closet. There’s a gentle scrape of a hanger along a rod, so I guess he’s hanging up my skirt and top.

That’s incredibly sweet.

When he returns, I swallow at the predatory way he moves, like a jungle cat with its eyes locked on its prey.

Holy smokes.

I’m the bunny he wants to devour.

My nipples harden beneath the soft cups of my bra, and his gaze immediately narrows on them. The tug of his lips does crazy things to my insides.

I could strip down right here and let him have his way with me. Bent over the counter, up against the wall, I don’t really have a preference so long as his skin is against mine.

Having him waiting for me at the end of a long day is just one of the many fantasies I’ve had about him. About us. I should have known that reality with him would be better than any fantasy. He puts my freaking clothes away so they won’t get ruined.

He stalks forward, dropping a kiss on my lips, but doesn’t linger. No. He’s a man on a mission. Raining more kisses along my jaw and down my chest, he drops to one knee. I grip his shoulders, and he pulls my panties down, steadying me as I step out of them.

“I just had you last night, and I already want you again.” His voice is a low rumble, and it makes my pussy clench. She wants that, too.

I lean back against the icy counter, thankful for the support because he’s making my knees turn into limp noodles. All it takes is those incredible hands sliding up and down my thighs like he’s trying to warm my skin.

Then he leans in, his hot breath fanning over my folds. I shudder with need and excitement. His golden head looks amazing between my legs.

“So fucking perfect,” he utters.

He’s teased me before about being perfect, but I always thought he meant my clothing, my appearance, my rigidly planned life. And there’s so much warmth and desire in his words.

I run my fingers through his hair, still in awe that I can touch him like this and that he’s about to eat me out on my bathroom vanity.

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

He swipes my clit with his tongue, humming an affirmative. Then he delves deeper, tonguing me until I fall back, legs spreading, muscles quivering. I’m so exposed. The bathroom lights leave nothing to the imagination. My god, Roman could walk in here. He will if I make too much noise.

But when King lifts my left foot, propping my heel on the counter, and smirks up at me, something flips inside me. It’s a deep fundamental change, so pure and so bright that it steals my breath and scrambles my brain.

“That’s it, Wildfire. Come on my tongue.”

His voice sounds far away. But I like the way he thinks. An orgasm after a long day in the office.Sign me up. A gorgeous man, on his knees, worshipping me.Here for it.

My hands clamp over the edge of the counter, and I hold on tight. Every cell in my body tells me to buck against that sinful mouth and make myself come. But I also don’t want to fall off the polished marble counter.

I swear he hears my thoughts. A chuckle rumbles from his chest just as he slides a finger deep. I bear down on it, whimpering my need.

“More.”

“Oh, love, I’m gonna give you so much more.”

He curls his finger, gliding it up and down the wall of my pussy until I’m panting. My eyes are closed, but I’m pretty sure they’ve crossed. And then he does it. That little trick with the tip of his tongue dancing around my clit. Teasing me just right.

“So close.”

Another hum.

“Don’t stop.”

My muscles tighten, and the pleasure is right there, so close I can reach out and touch it. Need sweeps me up the mountain and carries me to the top on a tidal wave.

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