Page 117 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

The kiss deepens, and I forget about everything. The contract, the expiration date on whatever this is between us, the careful walls I’ve built to protect myself. All that matters is the solid warmth of him against me, the taste of him, the scent that I’ve missed more than I care to admit.

“I missed you,” I confess against his mouth, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

His hands tighten on my waist. “Prove it,” he growls, and the sound sends heat spiraling through me.

I pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Mr. King?”

Something primal flashes in his eyes. “If you want it to be.”

I take his hand and lead him towardhis bedroom. As we cross the threshold, something changes. The careful distance we’ve maintained, the pretense that this is just physical, just convenient, falls away. At least for me.

He pushes me against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck, hands everywhere at once.

“Three weeks is too long,” he murmurs against my skin. “Too fucking long.”

I gasp as he nips at my collarbone, just hard enough to mark. “We’ve talked every day.”

“Not the same.” His hands slide under my oversized t-shirt, fingers tracing over my ribs, my breast. “Not this.”

Not this.The words echo in my head as his thumb brushes over my nipple, sending shivers through my body. What exactlyisthis? We’ve never defined it, never dared put words to whatever exists between mutual convenience and something far more dangerous.

I don’t have time to follow that thought as Gideon lifts me, carrying me to his bed with an ease that never fails to remind me of the physical power contained in his tall frame. He lays me down with unexpected gentleness, then stands back to remove his tie completely, and unbutton his shirt.

The sight of him undressing is something I will never tire of. The gradual reveal of that tanned skin over taut muscle.

“You’re staring,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Just appreciating the view.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “It’s been over three weeks, remember?”

His shirt drops to the floor, followed by his belt. “And did you think about this while I was gone?” His voice drops lower. “About me?”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks but hold his gaze. “Maybe.”

He crawls onto the bed, hovering over me with that intensity that makes me feel simultaneously vulnerable and powerful. “Maybe isn’t good enough, Ava.” His hand slides up my thigh, beneath the hem of my sleep shorts. “I want to hear you say it.”

My breath catches as his fingers trace the edge of my underwear. “Yes,” I admit. “I thought about you.”

“About this?” His fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding me already wet for him. I squirm in delight.

“Yes.” The word comes out as more of a moan than a confirmation.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and those two simple words send a shock of pleasure through me that’s almost embarrassing in its intensity.

What follows is different from our previous encounters. There’s still urgency, still the desperate need that’s always sparked between us, but there’s something else too, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. He takes his time, exploring my body like he’s relearning me, or maybe learning me for the first time without the barriers we’ve always kept in place. But are those barriers truly gone? I don’t know.

I lose myself in the sensation of his mouth on my breast, my stomach, lower still until I’m gripping the sheets and gasping his name. He looks up at me from between my thighs, eyes dark with desire.

“I’ve thought about tasting you every night I was away,” he says, his breath hot against my most sensitive flesh. “Dreamed about it. Your pussy tastes better than anything in this world, Ava.”

Before I can process that confession, his mouth is on me, tongue circling, teasing, devouring me like a man starved. My hips buck against himand he holds me firmly in place, like a steel vise, controlling my pleasure with the same authority he controls everything else in his life.

“Gideon,” I gasp, feeling myself approaching the edge already. “I need—”

“I know what you need.” His voice rumbles against me, sending vibrations that nearly push me over. “Let go, Ava. Show me how much you missed me.”

And I do, coming apart under his skilled mouth with an intensity that leaves me trembling. But before I can recover, he’s moving up my body and sliding on a condom, positioning himself between my thighs, the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

“Look at me,” he commands, and I open eyes I hadn’t realized I’d closed. His face above mine is a study in controlled desire. Jaw tight, eyes blazing with need, but waiting. Always giving me the chance to say no.

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