Page 23 of The Billionaire's Bargain

Before I can protest, his hands are at my waist, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. I shriek, clutching his shoulders.

"Don't you dare?—"

He dares. We plunge together beneath the surface, his arms keeping me securely against him. The shock of cold water steals my breath, but when we surface, I'm laughing.

"You're terrible!" I splash him, delighting in his playful growl.

"Terrible? I'm a goddamn delight." He pulls me closer, our wet bodies sliding against each other. "Admit it."

The teasing light in his eyes makes him look almost boyish, despite the silver threading his temples. This is a side of Alexander I've never seen—playful, unguarded. It makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

"Fine. A delight." I roll my eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of immunity to his charm.

His smile turns predatory. "Say it like you mean it."

Before I can respond, he's kissing me, salt water mingling on our lips. What starts as playful quickly deepens into something hungry. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me with a thoroughness that makes my knees weak. Good thing the water helps keep me afloat, because I'm melting against him.

His hands slide down to cup my ass, pulling me against the hard length of him. Even through two layers of wet fabric, I feel his arousal pressing insistently against my stomach. A whimper escapes me as heat pools between my thighs.

"Alexander," I breathe against his mouth.

"I love how you say my name." He trails kisses down my neck, finding the sensitive spot below my ear that makes me shiver. "Like a prayer and a curse all at once."

We're moving through the water, I realize dimly. Alexander walking us back toward shore, his mouth never leaving my skin. When my feet touch sand, he lifts me again, carrying me towhere the waves just barely reach us. He lays me down at the water's edge, the warm sand cradling my back while cool waves lap at my feet.

Alexander braces himself above me, water dripping from his hair onto my heated skin. His eyes devour me, taking in the way my wet underwear clings to every curve. I should feel self-conscious—I've spent my life hiding my body, ashamed of the softness where I thought there should be angles—but the naked appreciation in his gaze makes me feel beautiful. Desired.

"I want to taste you," he says, voice rough with need. "Here. With the ocean watching."

My breath catches. This isn't the first time he's touched me. Over the past three days, he's made me come with his fingers, teaching my body pleasure I never knew existed. But his mouth—that would be new.

"Someone might see," I whisper, though I know it's a lie. His privacy is absolute.

"Let them." He kisses the valley between my breasts. "Let them see how I worship you."

His words send a bolt of electricity straight to my core. This powerful man, who commands boardrooms and empires, wants to worship me. Plain, ordinary me.

"Yes," I breathe, permission and plea combined.

His smile is triumph and tenderness mixed. He slides down my body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my stomach, my hipbones. His fingers hook into my underwear, dragging the wet cotton down my legs and tossing it aside.

I resist the urge to cover myself. Alexander won't allow it anyway. He likes to look, to see every reaction he draws from me.

"Spread your legs for me, Alice." His voice is gentle but brooks no refusal.

I comply, trembling not from cold but from anticipation. Alexander settles between my thighs, his broad shoulderspreventing me from closing them even if I wanted to. He looks up the length of my body, holding my gaze as he lowers his mouth to my center.

The first touch of his tongue draws a strangled cry from my throat. He hums approval, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he explores me with devastating precision. This isn't the fumbling experimentation of boys my own age. This is a man who knows exactly what he's doing, who takes pride in his expertise.

"So responsive," he murmurs against my flesh. "So perfect."

My fingers dig into the sand as pleasure builds, coiling tighter with each stroke of his clever tongue. When he slides two fingers inside me, curving them to find the spot that makes me see stars, I arch off the sand.

"Alexander, please?—"

"Please what?" His voice is darkly amused. "Please stop? Please more?"

"Don't stop," I gasp. "Please don't stop."

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