Page 51 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck. He nips gently, then soothes the spot with his tongue, sending shivers down my entire body. “Tell me that you want this, Lucy.”
Do I want this? My mind is still reeling, caught between panic and overwhelming arousal. But my body… my body is screaming yes. It arches instinctively towards his touch, craving more.
“No,” I tell him, the word shaky, uncertain.
“Liar.” His fingers work swiftly, expertly, unfastening the buttons of my blouse one by one. The cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps.
I’m too curvy. I’m not his type. He’s going to be turned off.
“So fucking hot,” he says.
Oh.
He pushes the fabric aside, revealing my plain beige bra underneath.
My insecurity flares again.
Oh god, why didn’t I wear the fancy black lace? Note toself: Always wear emergency hot lingerie when working late, just in case a billionaire comes over.
But Christopher’s gaze isn’t critical. It’s… appreciative. Possessive.
He completely removes my blouse and lets it drop.
Wait! I totally forgot to wear deodorant today! Shit!
I try to push him away, but he’s too strong.
He gives me a confused look.
“What is it?” he asks roughly.
“I—” I swallow. “My armpits...”
He frowns, then dips his head, giving my underarm a long whiff.
Nooooo! Not there!
How mortifying.
He groans. “You smell soooo fucking good.”
Oh.
Oh.
He gives my underarm a kiss, and you’d think I’d be ticklish, but instead it just feels... amazing.
It’s my turn to groan.
“You taste like salted caramel,” he says from the side of his mouth. “So sweet. So salty. I could taste you all day.”
He pulls back, and looks me over, licking his lips. His fingers brush against the cheap lace of my bra with deliberate pressure. He doesn’t fumble with the clasp. His large hand finds it easily at my back, unhooking it with practiced ease. The bra loosens, and he pushes the straps down my arms, baring my breasts to his gaze.
My cheeks burn, but I can’t look away from the heat in his eyes.
“Beautiful,” he rasps, his voice thick. He reaches out, cupping one breast, his thumb sweepingacross my nipple. I gasp as it instantly beads, tightening into a hard peak. He mirrors the action on the other side, his gaze locked on my reaction. He seems fascinated by the effect he has on me.
He lowers his head, his lips closing over one nipple. The sensation is... I can’t even describe it. Erotic. Arousing. Worshipful. All rolled into one.
