Page 77 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
Wow.
I reach up and trace the outline.
“Fuck.” He sighs. “If your hand feels that good through clothes, God help me when you actually touch me.”
“Let’s give it a try.” I pop the button and draw down the zipper.
I can’t help but giggle at the roosters on his boxers.
“Yup.” He reaches for the back of my head and slides out my ponytail elastic, freeing the hair to fall over my naked shoulders. “You’re here on cock day.”
“And that’s supposed to make me laugh less?” I look up at him as he tosses the elastic on top of our clothes and glides his fingers through my loose hair.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen you with your hair down,” he says.
“It’s the first time you’ve seen a lot of me.”
“And I can’t wait to feast my eyes on the rest.” His voice drips with lust.
“Me first.” I slip my hand inside the opening of his boxers, exploring with my touch first, before my eyes. The second I find his firm shaft, his fingers tighten in my hair and his abs flex.
“Fuck, Frankie. Jesus.”
I look up to see his head back, eyes closed.
And now I need more.
I ease down his pants and boxers together, revealing his magnificent erection bit by bit until the whole thing is there, right in front of my face.
My mouth is drawn to it like a bee to nectar, but only the tip of my tongue has made contact when Miller stops me.
“Not yet. Or I’ll blow in your mouth in two seconds.” He kicks off his boots. “And I need to see you.” Then he slides down his pants and boxers and his glorious, fully naked form steps out of them.
“The floor,” I say. “It’s not totally clean.”
“Higher priorities,” he says, easing me back on the cot, his body hovering over me.
Then his mouth is back on mine, in the deepest kiss we’ve experienced so far, one full of longing and meaning and desire. I hold on to his biceps as one of his hands finds my breast and sends a fresh surge of lust rocketing straight to my clit. As if trying to catch the surge, his other hand undoes my jeans and slips inside.
The instant his finger finds me, I lose allsense of where we are. All I know is I’m here with Miller, my body arching away from the cot and into him, my mouth falling away from his on a long gasp that feels like it started in my toes.
His fingers slide lower.
“Christ, you are so fucking wet,” he pants against my cheek.
I reach between us and take him in both hands.
His groan echoes mine, but is even longer and louder.
He rocks into my grip and simultaneously slips a finger inside me, making me so lightheaded I’d collapse if I weren’t lying down.
“I want my cock to be where my fingers are,” he breathes, right before dropping his mouth back to my nipple.
I release him and shimmy out of my jeans and underwear beneath the heat of his hovering body.
“Condom?” I ask.
“Think so,” he says, twisting to reach back for his pants. “Yes.” He produces a black square from his wallet.
