Page 180 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
I cling to him, burying my face in his neck, laughing and crying at the same time. Engaged. To Christopher Blackwell. It’s insane. It’s perfect.
After a moment, I pull back just enough to look at him through blurry eyes, a slightly hysterical giggle bubbling up.
“You know,” I tell him, “I have such a dirty mind. When you were hiding the box, my brain didn’t leap to ‘engagement ring.’ It went straight to ‘sex toy.’ Like maybe high-tech, laser-guided nipple clamps!”
We both laugh.
“That could be arranged...” he tells me.
“I’m sure it can.” I laugh again, spitting out tears, then hug him tightly once more.
I just hold him for the longest time. Words feel so inadequate right now. I need… connection. Physical confirmation of this monumental shift.
I finally reach up, pulling his head down, my mouth finding his in a kiss that’s desperate, hungry, full of all the love and relief and sheer joy bubbling inside me.
He responds instantly, groaning low in his throat, his arms tightening around me. He lifts me effortlessly, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he backs me towards the low stone wall at the edge of the rooftop.
Wait, that could be dangerous...
But when I look in his eyes, I see his unsaid words.
Trust me.
And I do.
The cool stone presses against myback through the thin fabric of my blouse. The city stretches out behind me, a glittering witness.
His hands are under my dress immediately, finding the bare skin of my thighs. The cool night air kisses my skin as he pushes the fabric higher. There’s no hesitation now, no careful exploration. Just raw, mutual need. A powerful affirmation of the commitment we just made.
He positions me against the wall, his body pressing mine against the stone. I feel the hard ridge of his cock against my core, already straining against his trousers. He fumbles briefly with his belt buckle, then he’s free, his cock thick and heavy in his hand.
No condom this time.
The thought barely registers.
All that matters is him. Inside me. Now.
He enters me in one swift, powerful thrust, burying himself deep.
I cry out, arching against him, taking all of him. He fills me completely, stretching me, claiming me.
He starts moving immediately, his rhythm urgent, passionate, driving into me again and again.
“Lucy.” He whispers my name like a vow with each thrust. “Lucy.” Deeper, slower, his grip bruising my hips as he drags me onto him, the stretch bordering on pain. “Lucy.” The third time, it’s a snarl, frayed at the edges, and I know he’s fighting to keep his rhythm steady and paced, but his fingers tremble where they dig into my skin.
Mine, that touch says.Mine now, mine always.
Stars blur above us, or maybe it’s the tears glazing my eyes as he angles deeper, hitting a place that makes my toes curl. The cold air bites my exposed skin, but all I feel isheat.
All sensation narrows down to his body movingwithin mine, the friction, the heat, the incredible pressure building towards release. I feel my climax approaching, sharp and inevitable.
“Mine,” he groans against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “Finally. Completely mine.”
I come undone at the claim, a ragged scream tearing loose.“CHRISTOPHER!”
The waves crash over me, intense and consuming.
His control snaps with a roar, his hips stuttering.“LUCY!”
