Page 20 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"So, the flower has thorns, huh?" He peruses my features. "I have you in my grasp. May as well make the most of it, hmm?"
He lowers his face. I turn my head, or try to, only to find I can’t move, because he tightens his grasp on my neck, so I have no choice but to meet his kiss head on. I clamp my lips shut.
He swipes his tongue across my mouth. A shiver runs down my spine, my belly trembles, my limbs shake, and damn him, but this nearness to him… It’s potent—a drugging, mind-melding kind of force that draws me to him, that coaxes me to open myself up, throw myself at him and ask him to lick the lips between my legs too. Gah, what the hell? Now I am thinking in pornographic detail, something I don’t normally indulge in. Clearly, it's his proximity that’s affecting me. "Please," I whisper against his beautiful mouth. "Please …"
He brings up his other hand to cup my cheek. "What is it?"
Heat sinks into my blood, arrows to the space around my heart. My core clenches, my toes curl… Jesus, somehow his gentleness is even more potent than his brute force.
I raise my hand, wrap my fingers around his wide wrist. The rough hairs abrade my skin. Goosebumps pop on my forearms.
He stays quiet, his lips so close to mine that if I lean in a millimeter more our noses will bump. He stares into my eyes, holding my gaze, searching inside of me, finding the parts of me I have never before revealed to the world.
"Please," I whisper. "Please…don’t."
"Don’t what?"
"Don’t stop."
He closes the distance between us, fits his mouth to mine. I open my lips, and he thrusts his tongue inside, draws on my breath, sucks on me like I am the last note in one of his songs. I close my eyes, tilt my chin up, grip his shoulder and move in closer. Push my breasts into his chest. A shudder grips him. He tears his mouth from mine, "Leave here with me."
He meets my gaze and my mouth dries; my belly trembles. How can his smirk be so hot, so filled with a promise that I don’t dare acknowledge?
"I don't do this normally," I tip up my chin. "I’m not that kind of a woman."
Why the hell do I care what he thinks of me? I'd all but told him that I was up for a fling, so why the hell am I delaying now?
"What kind?" He frowns.
"You know… The kind who sleeps around?" I mumble.
"There’s no chance of either of us sleeping tonight." His lips curl.
"Oh."
"Keep your mouth open and I won't be able to resist stuffing it." His grin widens. "And it won’t be with Christmas pudding, either."
My core clenches and my pulse thuds at my temples. Why the hell is his crudeness such a turn on?
He drags my hand to his crotch, massages his impressive length.
I squeeze his hardness and he draws in a sharp breath.
"It’s gonna feel even better when I’m inside of you," he growls.
"I really never jump into bed with strangers," I feel compelled to say.
"And yet it was you who proposed we spend a night together," he points out.
"About that..." My cheeks heat, "I've never done that before; this is the first time I've been this bold."
"I know," he rumbles.
"You do?"
He nods, "But then, you also know a lot about me, don’t you?" He stares into my eyes and heat flushes my cheeks.
"You…you’re right," I mumble. "I may have, uh, had a small crush on you."
