Page 342 of In Love with a Cruel Billionaire

She reached for her lace panties and stepped out of it.

I'm here for good.

She stood before him, naked and trembling, but despite her fears, she kept her chin up, her back straight, and everything of her bared to his gaze.

All of me...

She stepped forward.

Is for you.

The professor closed the distance between them, and her eyes swept close as she felt his hand curve around her nape.

Third kiss,Diana couldn't help thinking dizzily.

And so it was.

His mouth was forceful and hungry, almost to the point of ravishment, as if he was making up for all the nights he had wanted and needed, all the times he had ached to kiss her.

And knowing this, all she could do was part her lips willingly under his, her tongue molding its strokes to his.

All of me is yours.

His body shuddered, his kisses gradually turning gentle and tender, and when he pulled away, his eyes were once again blazing with emotions. Passion. Heat. Lust. Love. So much emotions, but not one of it was bleakness, and that was all she cared about.

Bleakness meant he still thought he was alone in this.

And he was not.

Never would be.

She looked up at him.

All of me is yours.

"Last chance," he gritted out.

And because it seemed he needed to hear it out loud, she said softly and very, very clearly, "All of me is yours."

His eyes closed. "May God forgive me." She saw him swallow hard. "Because I might never ever let you go after this."

And then he was carrying her to his bed and, after laying her down, she watched him pull back to reach for the drawer and take out another condom. She watched him get rid of the old one and found it an intimately erotic experience, watching the man she loved put on his own condom. It was stupid and fanciful, but she couldn't help seeing him as a warrior, oiling his blade, and the thought of him stabbing her flesh with it and having him pull out with her blood on his blade—-

Diana's face heated as she felt her nipples pinch up in a painfully erect position.

Forgive me if this is a sin.

But I think there's a bit of a twisted masochist in me.

And then the professor was moving back, looming over her as he nudged her legs apart, and both guilt and consciousness dissipated in the sensual, throbbing heat of his presence.

"You look beautiful," the professor said huskily, "spread out and naked for me like this." His fingers drifted down to her body as he spoke, and a whimper escaped her as he cupped one breast. A moment later, and she could only whimper again, with his hand fully palming her breast.

And then both of his hands were doing it, and her whimpers turned into moans. It was the most embarrassing sound, but when she tried to cover her mouth, the professor's gaze glinted.

"I want to hear you, Diana."

And so she found herself fisting the bed sheets on each side instead, her moans growing louder and lewder as he continued to play with her swelling and aching breasts. And when he bent down to pinch one nipple before covering it with his mouth, her body could only arch up as another moan was ripped out of her throat.

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