Page 99 of The Playboy Billionaire

“I don’t either,” I tell him honestly. “As I said, my birth control is for other reasons.”

We look at each other.

“It’s too late for tonight,” I say.

“It is,” he says.

He scoops me up, the icy wall of tiles stealing my breath as I’m pressed up against it.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Please,” my voice almost begging.

He thrusts forward, sinking his bare cock into my desperate pussy. The feeling is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

“Holy….” Caleb lets out a deep sigh as he moves.

We take it slowly until neither one of us can take any more. I feel the jerk of his cock and the warmth as he fills me with his cum. My legs wrap tightly around his waist.

“That was…”

I place a finger over his lips. He nods, before setting the hand jet off and rinsing away the evidence that is running down my thighs. We dry off, making our way back into the bedroom.

I head for the door.

“Stay,” he says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say honestly.

Sex is one thing. Cuddling… that’s dangerous territory.

“I’m happy for more than one night,” I tell him honestly.

He gives me a sly grin. “Good night, little dancer. Until next time.”

I grab the handle and open the door.

“Until next time,” I say, letting myself out.

CHAPTER 42

CALEB

Since boys’ night when we gave into temptation, April and I have fallen into a routine. Every night we have dinner, followed by sex. Or sex followed by a more leisurely dinner, our appetite for one another insatiable. The guys are taking the piss. They know something is up as I’ve blown them off twice, but April is like a thirst I cannot quench, cannot explain. The taste of her, the way her body feels as she comes around my cock. But then it’s not just the physical attraction, she tests my mind as well and when I’m around her, I find myself wanting more.

I’m like an addict and she’s become my drug of choice.

It’s why I’ve included Scarlett in my plan. Tonight, I intend on blowing mylittle dancersmind, and not only with orgasms. This time I’m going to try to employ other tricks from my toolbox to win her over.

I hear the front door go and make my way into the living room.

April jumps when she sees me. “Cal, I wasn’t expecting you home,” she says, her hand going to her chest, before a slow smile begins to spread.

My breath catches at her use of the wordhome.

“Ahh—no, but I was most definitely expecting you,” I say, smirking, when she quirks a brow in my direction, her hands now going to her hips.

“And why would that be?” she asks.

---