Page 43 of Black Tie Billionaire
She trailed a caress up his arm, over his shoulder and neck, until she reached his jaw. Cuppingit, she mimicked the many times he’d held her in the same grip. She swept her thumb over his full bottom lip.
His gaze never leaving hers, Gideon carefully set the guitar on the table, then clasped her hand in his. He turned his head, placing a kiss in the center of her palm, then tracing a path to her wrist. His lips pressed there over her pulse, and her lashes fluttered down. But at thedamp flick of his tongue, she gasped, eyes flying open. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she didn’t even try to contain her whimper.
He rose, gently tugging her to her feet. Without releasing her hand, he led her out of the room, down the hallway and up the curving staircase. They entered a cavernous bedroom lit only by a single lamp on a nightstand. Not just any bedroom—his. The bigking-size bed covered in a black spread and white pillows, two chairs flanking a large, freestanding fireplace, a couple glossy bedside tables, a rug—the almost austere decor was relieved by the breathtaking view of the Chicago River and city skyline through the three floor-to-ceiling windows, and the one wall that bore a black-and-white mural of a bare, leafless tree on a lonely plain. It wasgorgeous. It was him.
Turning to her, he captured all her attention by cradling her face between his palms, tilting her head back and claiming her mouth. Slow, tender; raw and erotic. His tongue relayed all that he wanted to do to her—would do to her. And as she cocked her head to the side, granting him deeper access, she consented to it all.
“I’ve had you on a couch and in the back seatof my car. I want to take you on a bed,” he muttered against her lips. “Mybed.”
As soon as her whispered “Please,” passed her lips, he stripped her, haphazardly tossing her borrowed clothes to the floor. His clothes followed and, hiking her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. Her back hit the covers and his big, hot body pressed her into the mattress. He kissed her harder, wilder, moreinsistently, as if that leash on his control had unraveled. She dug her fingers into his hair, yanking off the band that corralled it and freeing the strands so they tumbled around both their faces. With a hot, low rumble, he kissed her again, then every inch of her received attention from his mouth, his fingers. By the time he tugged open the drawer on a bedside table and pulled a condom free,she shook with need, twisting and aching for him to fulfill his promise and take her.
Linking their fingers, he drew her arms up, their joined hands bracketing her head.
“Open for me, moonbeam,” he murmured, desire burning hot in his dark eyes. The head of his erection nudged her entrance, and she willingly, eagerly widened her thighs and locked them around his slim hips. “Thank you, baby.”
He groaned as he sank inside her, not stopping until her sex fully sheathed him. She arched under him, grinding her head into the pillow. God, he stretched her, filled her. Branded her. When he started to move in long, hard thrusts that rocked her body and her soul, she felt claimed. And when her channel clenched around him, and she hurtled into an orgasm that threatened to break her apart,she shut her eyes and became a willing sacrifice to it.
Soon, the aftershocks rippling through her eased, and the fog of ecstasy started to fade. She tensed, waiting for him to roll away from her, to reject her. But when he drew her into his arms, his still-labored breathing bathing her neck, she slowly relaxed.
Right before she drifted away, his low, hoarse voice penetrated her heavyblanket of drowsiness.
“Don’t let me break you, Shay. Protect yourself from me.”
She didn’t reply, but carried that warning with her into sleep.
