Page 79 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

I giggled and led him inside, turning on the kitchen light. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to him.

“So, what would you like to do? We can watch those cheesy horror movies from the 80's that you used to love and eat pizza,” I suggested.

“I'm down for whatever.”

“I haven't heard you say that in years.”

He laughed. “Well, I guess some things don't change.”

“I'm glad that part of you didn't change. It was what I liked so much about you.”

“I could say the same for you.”

I huffed. “And what part would you be talking about?”

“Your sweetness. Your eyes. Those were always the things I liked.”

I tried to hide my blushing face by turning away. I stepped toward the counter, unsure of what to do. Should I turn on the TV? Should I take him to my room?

I felt seventeen again.

“So,” I whispered as I flipped around.

He was standing much closer than anticipated. He placed his hand gently on my waist and leaned in, pushing me back against the counter.

And then came his lips.

He crashed into me like a wave taking me down on the beach. I let him roll over me, his hands searching my waist for a place to rest. His touch was eager. I was swarming between emotions—I was calm like the surface of a lake and restless like the branches of a tree dancing in the breeze.

I let him take me.

Because I wanted him.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss, practically wrapping my legs around him. He lifted me and set me on the counter. He nestled between my legs and pressed into me, alerting me of his arousal through his pants. I promptly reached down to touch him.

He gasped and nipped my lower lip. I hissed as he playfully nibbled on my lip, inviting my sigh to turn into a moan. I wrapped my legs around him and encouraged his hands to lift my gown. I urged his hands to find my point of pleasure. I unbuckled his belt, whipped his pants open and dropped them to the ground with more eagerness than I ever had.

His hands found my panties and urgently tore them away. I kicked off my heels and wrapped my legs back around him, gasping when his cock pressed against my clit. He gently nudged his nose into my neck, causing my head to fall back. I felt his warm breath mark my skin followed by the curve of his lips. He decorated my throat and then dipped into my chest, eagerly tugging away the gown.

He revealed my breasts and nestled between them. I bayed as he drifted from between my breasts to my right nipple, circling it with his tongue. I gripped his hair.

“Levon . . .”

He surfaced, lingering close to my lips with his. “Yes?”

“Please . . . take me.”

He growled as his lips collided with mine. He silenced every one of my moans, drinking them away from my lips. He positioned his cock at my entrance and teased me with quick strokes. I hummed with frustration and tightened my legs around him, claiming him instantly. He groaned as he slipped deep.

We merged with ease. It felt like our bodies had been craving each other for centuries, years of woeful suffering dispersed in a few short seconds. He rocked into me gently as his hands searched for another place to rest. I invited him to touch my breasts, encouraging him to squeeze them. When he pressed his forehead to mine, I felt his breath on my lips. I felt him burst with eagerness, his urgency drawing me down into a pit.

Our bodies created a friction that needed to be released, a tension that needed to be relieved. As he picked up a steady rhythm, I fell into him, getting lost in the way his skin pressed to mine. We were morphing into a creature, into the very pieces we had always fit in the past. And it was all happening in a way I hadn't expected.

We were colliding—and I was more than happy to merge with him.

I hummed as I exposed my neck again for him to take. Without hesitation, he claimed the skin of my throat. He dove down to take my breasts, massaging them gently as he caressed my nipple with his tongue. He decorated my left nipple and then my right nipple, alerting me of his desire. I imagined he wanted this to happen for years—I did, too—and I could feel his passion with every embrace.

He reared back and pumped hard, expanding me with each thrust. His desire was evident in each plummet into my entrance. He invited me to roll with him, to swing my hips in opposition of his thrusts. I leaned back and hit the cabinet, not caring that it had stopped me from laying back all the way.

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