Page 69 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
This time, I feel the shudder go through him.
Sliding to his feet, he sheds his pants. He's back again and before I can draw breath, he pulls of my shorts and my panties with it. Then he's inside me. One minute I am empty. The next, he fills me.
It's like he's possessing me.
A moan wells up, only to be swallowed by his mouth.
He's still for a second. Absorbing the sound. Drinking of my essence. Of me.
Then he angles himself, going deeper, more inside than anyone has ever been before, into that secret emotional part of me I've always held back, hidden even from myself. And when I cry out, he's already there, his mouth on mine to absorb the sound of pain and anger and something more, an emotion I can't quite understand myself.
My hand grips his hair, the other holding his upper arm, feeling his biceps flex. His shoulders clench as he pulls back, thrusts again. And again. I scream as I come, waves of pleasure travel up my spine.
Jace groans, climaxing with me. Then his body collapses on mine, pinning me to the bed. I hold him to me.
We stay there unmoving, for seconds, minutes. I feel like he's become a part of me. His muscles bunch, and I know he's going to pull away. Panic grips me.
I don't want to let go.
If I do, I know I won't let myself back.
Don't go.
I brush my lips against his. My inner muscles shiver up against him, groaning in my throat.
And then he's kissing me back.
It's a long time before we fall asleep.
By the time he opens his eyes again, I’ll be gone.
34
Jace
* * *
When Jace reaches for Sienna, there's no one there. No warm skin flowing under his. His eyes fly open. That warm-honey essence of hers is still flowing through his blood and making him hard. He's erect, thirsty for her. He looks over to her side of the bed to find it empty.
"Fuck." Jace swings his feet to the floor, looks around.
Nothing.
The T-shirt and shorts that he'd torn off her last night and thrown to the floor; her cosmetics from the dressing table, all gone. So is her suitcase.
Going to the bathroom, he flings it open. He can't stop himself from hoping. Then, still naked, not bothering to get dressed, he walks across the living room space to his room on the other side.
She's. Not. There.
Walking back into the bedroom where they'd made love, he's struck anew by the mussed-up bed, the scent of sex still in the air. And below that, her perfume that lingers.
The now familiar black coffee and vanilla. Mysterious, addictive. It still pulls at him and he's surprised to find himself harden again.
He swears at his foolishness. At his inability to hold back when it comes to her.
From the moment, the PI had sent him her pictures, he'd been attracted to Sienna. He'd wanted her even before he'd met her. Liquid fire: her essence tugged at his gut in a way that had him wanting to both shake some sense into her, yet protect her.
And when he'd gotten to know her better, that feeling had grown. Her moods, which changed by the minute, her temper often catching him unawares. He'd been unable to pin her down. And that had only challenged him to go after her.
