Page 134 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
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Sin
I have her where I want her. Bent across my desk.
I’ve imagined this scene a hundred, no a thousand times, since the day I saw her at the bar. She'd reached across the bar for her drink. One glimpse of the creamy column of her neck and I'd been a goner.
Her dress had clung to her impossibly tiny waist, then swooped down to cup that gorgeous heart-shaped arse, and fuck me, but I'd known she was trouble. My fingers had tingled to touch her, caress her, palm the eggshell shape of her butt, and fondle her. I do just that. Cup that sensuous curve, the parabola of my desire, the shape that has haunted me, called to me, the one that has competed for attention with the circle of her breasts. I palm her butt and she trembles. A moan spills from her mouth. "Does that hurt, Bird?"
She shakes her head.
"You okay, if I drag up your skirt, Sweetheart?"
The fuck?Was that another endearment? They come so easily, like rain falling from the leaden London skies. Something inside of me burst open, at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Something shifted, and I cannot, for fuck’s sake, put my finger on it. A corner was turned, a line crossed. I slipped into the gap between the platform and the tube train, crushed by thousands of metric tons of steel. Ha!
There is no going back, after this. What does that mean? I am going to find out.
"Summer?"
"Hmm."
"Can I check out your butt?"
She giggles. "Umm, a bit late to be asking that question, huh?"
"Never say never."
"Sean Connery, James Bond. Hated that film, actually," she murmurs.
I knew that.
I am beginning to echo her love for movie trivia. It is addictive. She is addictive. The water vapor to my clouds; the sunshine to my rainy weather. We are opposite, and yet we fit. Fuck. Get your mind off the poetic license wagon.
"And it’s Never Say Never Again." She turns her head, so her cheek is flat on the table, then peers up at me.
"I must be doing something wrong."
She frowns. "What do you mean?"
"You’re still talking, still thinking." I curl my lips. "I am going to take that as a personal challenge."
"What?"
"I am going to distract you, Bird. Gonna take care of your poor hurt arse, then shred your asshole, and make you come so hard there will be no other thought in your head, no other word, no other name, except mine."
Her pupils dilate; her cheeks redden.
She opens her mouth to speak and I draw up her skirt.
"Sinclair—"
"Sin."
She chews on that damn lower lip of hers and the crease deepens, that beautiful dip which makes me want to rest my cock on it, as I thrust my heavy length inside of her mouth.
"Say my name."
She shakes her head.
