Page 40 of Falling for Mr. Billionaire

“You love this, don’t you?” I growl. “This cock. This stretch. This storm outside while I fuck you senseless inside.”

She can’t answer—just moans and nods, her body writhing as I slam into her again, deeper, harder.

“Bite down if it’s too much,” I say, offering her my wrist.

She grabs it, teeth sinking into my skin as I pound her from behind, holding her hips like she’s mine. Because right now, she fucking is.

I grip her throat—not tight, just enough to let her feel me, control humming between us like electricity.

“I want to ruin you for every other man,” I groan. “I want to claim every part of you so no one else can touch you without you thinking of me.”

Her body tightens. Her orgasm’s coming fast—she’s gasping, shaking, biting down again.

I pull out almost all the way—just the tip hovering at her entrance.

“Beg,” I whisper.

“Make me,” she dares, breathless.

I flip her onto her back, grab her by the hips, and fuck her against the wall. Her legs wrap around me. Her moans are sinful.

And then she screams my name as she shatters.

And I let go, spilling into her with a growl, losing myself completely in the heat, the chaos, the woman who just broke me in half and made me love it.

I don’t know how long we stay tangled in the wreckage of what just happened.

Her head rests on my chest, her legs still hooked around my waist. My hand moves slowly up and down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, slick with sweat. The room is silent except for the sound of our breathing and the occasional crackle of thunder in the distance.

She lifts her head, eyes dark and dazed. Her lips are kiss-bruised, swollen, parted. Her hair’s a mess. Her skin is flushed everywhere I touched—everywhere I took.

And I’ve never seen anything sexier.

“You okay?” I ask, still catching my breath.

She nods. Then smirks.

“You’ve got stamina.”

That little spark? That flash in her eyes?

It snaps something loose in me.

Because I’m not done.

Not even close.

I roll us over in one smooth movement until she’s underneath me again, her gasp catching in her throat as I slide between her thighs.

Her body’s already slick. Warm. Welcoming.

But I don’t go straight to her pussy—not yet.

I slide down her body instead, kissing a trail from her collarbone to the space between her breasts, then lower. I take my time, tongue swirling around her navel before dipping just below it, hands gripping her thighs to keep her wide open for me.

“Carter…” she breathes, hips arching.

I glance up, eyes locked on hers. “Just relax.”

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