Page 78 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

“We can get a matching portrait of you,” I tease.

He growls and steals another kiss. His fingers play along the edges of my T shirt, making scorching contact with my midriff. My breath quickens as confident hands pull my shirt up over my head.

Not to be outdone, I pull open his shirt, which has pearly snap buttons, much to my delight.

“We’ll have to invite our dog park friends over for hors d’oeuvres,” I continue. “Won’t they be surprised!” I kiss his bare chest. I love his chest. I love the light smattering of hair. This man drives me crazy. “Mmmm.”

“Don’t forget Monique and Igor,” he says, relieving me of my bra while I go after his pants. We’re just a frenzy of nonsense talk and clothes getting pulled off at this point.

I reach down and press my hand against his hard cock, clad only in boxer briefs.

He groans.

“This,” I whisper. “So wet for you.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, sliding his hands over my ass.

Sensation shivers through me as he grinds me into him.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I say to him. “I need to feel you in me. Please, Benny.”

He just rumbles, all low and sexy. He grips my ass even harder, and then he hauls me right up off the floor.

I wrap my legs around him as he walks backwards, walking me toward the daybed at the corner of the place.

He lays me down. There’s a hard gravity in his gaze that sends heat blooming through my body. I touch his steely thigh as he skims his palm over my belly, down, down, down to my core. He slips a finger inside of me, then another.

Gasp!

“I like you like this, laid out for me like a feast,” he says.

He leans down to suck my breasts while he does me.

I grab his hair and hold his head in place, rife with pleasure at everything he’s doing. He’s plundering me like a marauder, and I’m there for it!

I maul his muscular shoulder with my free hand.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” I gasp. “I’ll die if you don’t. I need you to have one right now, specificallyonyou.”

He pulls away with a feverish look.

Without a word he disappears. When he comes back, he’s ambling back cool and slow, cock jutting out from a tawny bush of hair. He’s a sexy sculpture, hard and beautiful. He stands over me slipping it on himself—slowly—possibly even making me wait.

“Take your time why don’t you,” I say.

“I plan to.” Rough fingertips glide over my body, making me burn with need. He seems to know everywhere to touch.

Suddenly it comes to me—he’s doing the Sexorator 2000 thing.

But he keeps touching me, stoking the quicksilver sensation between my legs higher, and an evil little voice inside me asks, do you really want to stop now?”

I don’t want to stop! I need to get Benny back.

“Come here.” I reach up and pull him to me, pull him over me, and he obliges.

He climbs over me and slides his hand over my shoulder over my breasts over my belly. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

His fingers are back between my legs, doing more magic there. I rock my hips as he strokes me. He gets up a rhythm. I’m gasping and panting and forgetting to be anti-Sexorator 2000.

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