Page 64 of The Reluctant Billionaire
I wave my free hand at him. ‘Water.’
He hands me the metal water bottle and I take a slug. As I hoped, the water’s ice-cold. I keep it in my mouth and wrap my lips around his cock again, basking in his shocked, delighted jolt, his pained sigh, as I bathe his heat in cool liquid, my tongue moving more easily now as it sluices him down. Some drops escape my mouth, trickling over my chin and hand. I blindly stand the bottle on the floor and resume my onslaught, my free hand going to cup, to knead, his already-heavy sac.
I find my rhythm.
Pump him with my fist and mouth.
Swirl my tongue around his silky crown.
Caress his balls.
Swallow the water when it loses its coolness.
Take a swig from the bottle, rising up on my knees slightly as I drink so I can glide Aide’s tip between my lace-cupped breasts.
Repeat.
And, above all, revel in the glory that is this man coming undone around me as he shifts, and moans, and claws at my hair, my shoulders. As he begins to move his hips to meet my wet, willing mouth.
After one swallow, I look up. ‘Fuck my mouth,’ I tell him, and I swig more water. When my liquid-filled mouth takes his length in again, he takes heed. He puts one hand on my jaw, another around the back of my neck, holding me steady as he works those hips. He starts off hesitantly, picking up strength as I moan and suck harder so he’s pistoning his hips against me, forcing me to take everything.
I let my eyes flutter closed and focus on my rhythm, on giving him the maximum amount of sensation I can, and on not gagging, because this guy isbig, and he’s going for it.
‘Sofuckinggood,’ he grits out, his hands gripping my hair even more tightly.
There’s nothing like this. Nothing like being on my knees for him, worshipping his cock with my mouth while he desecrates said mouth with said cock. Nothing like feeling and hearing his entire body struggle to handle how I’m making him feel. Feeling and hearing him get closer and closer.
It’s fucking amazing.
I’m already well-versed in how well-endowed Aide is, but feeling every hot inch of him down my throat is a whole other experience. He’s overwhelming me, and I’m overwhelming him, and I let him know with my moans and my sucks how eager I am to bring this home.
‘I’m close,’ he tells me, and I nod.
‘Lotts—’ He releases my head and tries to pull out of me, but I grip him harder, the hand on his balls moving further back to hold him against me by the arse.
He’s so close. The balls I just cradled are so tight. And then he’s coming with a low roar, his head hitting the wall with a noisy thud as he jerks his orgasm into my mouth.
When his shudders have subsided, I swallow it all and suck him clean before I stand. He’s staring at me like he’s shell-shocked. Then he grabs my jaw with both hands and hauls me towards him, kissing me hungrily, his tongue rampaging through the exact space his cock just occupied. And as he slides a hand down my back, pressing me towards his sweat-slicked body, I marvel at having had the unique privilege of undoing Aidan Duffy with my mouth.
CHAPTER 25
Lotta
It’s clear from the moment Aide’s driver, Andy, steers us up his driveway that this is more than a home for him.
It’s a sanctuary.
Okay, so it may be the polar opposite of my opulent, over-decorated flat (I am my mother’s daughter, after all) and not to my usual taste, but I can see exactly why he’s gone for the aesthetic, the vibe, he has.
I’m beginning to understand that this success, and the lifestyle and demands that come with it, don’t sit well with Aide. He seems naturally introverted, so it makes sense that he’d build himself a refuge.
In fact, it makes me feel better just knowing he has this place to escape to.
The weird thing is how familiar everything about Aide’s home is before I even step foot in it. I recognise the signature of Venus’ architectural team everywhere. In the seamless bank of Crittall and glass doors to one side. In the shallow gables. The impeccable finish whose very simplicity screams quality.
I feel a stab of pride at the beauty around us. It never gets old, seeing our work. Dad may have built his company from ones and zeroes, but I likethings.I like having something concrete toshow for my efforts. And what’s better than buildings that house all manner of human experiences and stand the test of time far long after we’ve passed?
Aide’s house may screamVenus, but the look and feel he’s gone for is all him. The way the structure interacts with the softly landscaped grounds in which it stands feels far more organic than most of the intimidating steel-and-glass blocks of flats we tend to build back in the city.
