Page 6 of Dirty Nasty Billionaire: Part 2

He thrusts into me one last time, before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against his body. I can feel his chest rising and falling, the pounding of his heart. I can feel his breath on my ear, can hear him barely whisper, as if he thinks I won’t hear it, “You’re mine.”

The small room is silent as we both come down from our orgasms. I let out a soft whimper when he finally pulls out. I want him to stay inside me all night.

I want him to stay inside me forever.

The thought scares me, but I also know I can’t run from it. I can’t ignore it. I can’t pretend it’s not there. Something changed just now, at least for me. And I think for him, too.

I don’t want to say anything like that, though, not after all the work we did to calm him down. So instead, I just rest my cheek against the warm wood of the door and try to catch my breath.

Nixon drops to his knees behind me, planting a soft kiss on my ass as he reaches down and pulls the silk dress up my thighs from where it was still pooled around my feet. As he brings the straps up, his fingers brush against my nipples, eliciting a gasp from my lips. His tongue traces a lazy like up the back of my neck as he pulls the straps around. I pull my hair to the side so he can retie the bow. And before I know it, I’m put back together, with no sign that just moments ago, Nixon Blake had me naked and pressed up against a door, fucking me to the greatest orgasm of my life while several hundred of the richest and smartest people in the country partied just on the other side of it.

I turn around to face him as he’s buckling his pants, his chest still bare. I run my hands across his chest again, wondering if it’ll be the last time. Dear god, I hope not.

“I trust I was able to help,” I say, trying to sound playful. I want to give him an out in case this was another one-time thing. I want him to know that I’m fine with what just happened, and fine if it never happens again. Even if I’m really, really not.

I’m completely surprised when he reaches up, a finger below my chin, raising it up so I stare straight up into those perfect eyes.

“Delaney, I mean it,” he says, his voice low and full of fire. “You’re mine.”

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