Page 49 of Billionaire Romantic
His cock starts jerking in my hands. The pumping gushes flood my mouth. Wave after wave of it. I swallow as much as I can but there’s too much. It spills, wetting my face and my breasts.
The ripples calm and I drink the last surges of his release, taking my time, licking him tenderly. I can feel his seedy life force inside me. I’m full of it. It’s all over me. I’ve been anointed with his beastly beauty and his adoring perfection. I feel sticky and blessed. I kiss his wet, still-pulsing length. It’s softer now but not completely. I love the weighted bulk of it in my hands.
“Irish,” he rasps. “Come here, baby.”
I climb onto him and he takes me in his arms, staring at me like I’m a mythical being he can’t believe. He smooths my hair. He takes my face in his warm hands and kisses my lips.
“Come home with me. Move in with me. I need you with me, Lucky Irish. Stay with me.”
23
I open my eyes.
Pre-dawn light seeps through the glass door that leads out to the balcony, now closed.
God.
It’s Monday morning.
My weekend with Noah Steel is now over.
But what a weekend it was.
The best of my life, if I’m being honest.
Very thoroughly cashing in V-card. Check.
Getting pampered and adored to within an inch of my life. Check.
Experiencing lust on steroids with the beastliest, dreamiest man in the world for an entire weekend. Check.
But now it’s back to reality.
I need to go into the office this morning before my meeting with that asshole Cash Maddox.
It’s a meeting I have to show up for. Because the asshole might either be the answer to all my prayers or the final nail in my coffin of homelessness and bankruptcy.
It’ll be one or the other.
I don’t want to think about any of it. I want to stay right here with Noah’s burly arms wrapped securely around me. Keeping me safe from everything outside our haven.
But I can’t skip my meeting, as much as I might wish my problems, my mountain of debt and Cash Fucking Maddox would go away.
I turn to look at Noah.
He’s still fast asleep.
I watch him for a while, taking in all the details of him that I now know so well.
His face is peaceful in sleep and stunningly handsome. His dark hair is a glorious mess.Like coarse silk in my hands as I grab fistfuls of it.
His broad shoulders and muscular arms are so sculpted and strong.So good at holding me down as he fucks me.
His cinnamon skin.That I’ve literally rubbed myself all over like a horny cat.
The two-day-old stubble that darkens his square jaw.That feels so scratchily good on my thighs when he eats me.
He’s so, so beautiful. So masculine and ideal.
