Page 94 of Between the Lines

Bright color spreads across his cheekbones, and he looks at me through narrowed, hooded eyes.

“You’re enjoying this,” he mutters.

My smile widens. “Not as much as you are, clearly. The big bad billionaire CEO… reduced to a panting mess because of me.”

His eyes darken. “You’re on a power trip.”

“Maybe I am.” I tighten my hand around his balls, and his breath turns into a hiss. More wetness pools at the tip of his head. I feel like someone else—a sex goddess—when he looks at me like that. Like I can do anything with him,beanyone with him, and he would want me just as I am.

I’m just Charlotte. An alternate version of myself, where the outside world fades away and it’s just me and him. And his lust-filled eyes.

“Every night, you said.”

“Every night.” His voice is hoarse, his entire body taut. His abs flex and relax, and I marvel at that, too. “You’ve got me hard and aching all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, his jaw visibly clenched. He tips his head back, and it’s like I’m witnessing him trying to hold on. Trying not to give up control when I’m so clearly the one holding him in my hands.

I feel high on power. I want even more of it. I want him to come apart because of me.

I pause, my hand gripping his cock tight but keeping still.

His eyes fly open. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling. “Please, for fucks sake,” he mutters. His arms are straining against the kitchen counter, like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch me.

I smile at him. And sink to my knees.

I lick a broad stripe over his head, and he groans again. It’s music to my ears.

“Fuck, Chaos, I’m so close.”

I look up at him and wrap my lips around him. He curses again, hand sliding into my hair. There’s another garbled warning, and I just keep sucking him deeper, my tongue swirling around his head.

He erupts. I hear him groan above me, feel him twitch and empty down my throat. I look up to see his face twisted into an expression that rides the fine line between pleasure and pain.

I’m invincible. I’m ten feet tall and an Amazonian warrior, ready to face any trial that comes my way.

He twitches one final time, and his strained arms relax. I slowly pull my mouth off him and sit back on my heels. He looks ruined. Handsome, tired, and sweaty. And wrecked… by me.

“Is that a good enough apology?” I ask sweetly.

He reaches for my shoulders, pulling me up to stand. “Fuck, Chaos, that was unreal. You’re incredible.”

“Just proving a point,” I say.

He glides his hands down my arms, over my hips. “Prove it any day.”

Lifting me up, he puts me on the kitchen island. The marble is cold beneath my bare thighs, and I lean forward, seeking his heat.

“You’re incredible.” He kisses down my cheek, down to my neck. “Such a good girl.”

“I’m not good.” Even so, his words send heat down my body.

He chuckles again. “Yes, you are. My sweet writer. Driving me up the fucking walls, sure, but you’re so good.” His lips move down my neck, while his hands hitch my shirt up, inch by inch. When he cups my small breasts, I close my eyes at the pleasure.

“Chaos,” he mutters and leans back to pull my shirt fully off. “Arms up.”

I lift them up, and he tugs the shirt off me completely. His eyes are that deep, dark-jade color as he drinks me in.

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