Page 10 of Dirty Nasty Billionaire: Part 1

I reach forward and return my fingers to his hair, gripping and pulling his face into my pussy, my hips grinding against him as if moving completely independently of my body. He moans into me, his tongue still making delicate work of my clit, which is now radiating heat and pleasure and electricity throughout my body. I don’t know if this is several orgasms or one sustained orgasm, and I don’t care. I just want to feel this. More. All of it. Forever. I never want it to stop.

But then he pulls away. His fingers slide out of me. He sits back on his heels, then rises. My gaze drops to his jeans, where I can see the generous bulge. And suddenly I’m hungry. Fuck, I’m ravenous. One orgasm just isn’t enough. I need more. I suddenly can’t go another second without feeling him inside me. And I’m shocked to feel my hands reach for his belt. I want to see the cock that goes with this tall, muscle frame. If he can do that with his tongue, I want to know what else he can do.

But he steps back, reaching up to wipe his lips with his palm. He shakes his head, that smug smirk back on his face.

“That wasn’t the deal, Delaney.”

I can’t help the anger that flare within me, because even though I just had the most fucking incredible orgasm that I’m sure anyone’s ever had on this whole entire planet, in the end, he still played me. He’s still in total control. I may have challenged him, but he’s won.

“I trust that you’ll honor our deal,” he says, reaching for his phone. It’s infuriating, the way he can go from eating me out to checking his goddamn email that quickly. The air leaves the room, and I quickly reach for my skinny black pants. I pull them on, quickly stepping back into my boots while I button up my shirt.

I realize I have one last chance to score some points here, so I hop off his desk, my feet landing with a solid thud on the concrete floor. I bend down and pick up the tattered scrap of lace that was my panties. With my clothes all put back together, I wad them up in my fist, then reach over and slide them into the pocket of his jeans, my hand lingering for only a fraction of a second on the erection that betrays his desire for me. Then I turn and stride towards the door.

“It’s a deal, Mr. Blake,” I say, before going on my way.

THE END OF PART ONE

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