Page 68 of No More Billionaires

This was it. There was no going back now. I could no longer deny I was serious about him. We would never be “just co-workers” again.

All the pretenses were gone, falling away like the restrictive, dowdy clothing he was shedding from my body.

My sweater and blouse undone, Larson pulled them off, leaving me in just my bra. I’d worn a pretty black one, and his eyes widened appreciatively at the sight of it.

With one finger, he traced along the scalloped lace edge and up the strap, which he slid from my shoulder, replacing it with his hot kiss.

“I like this. A lot. I wondered what you had on under all those clothes tonight. I thought it might be the pink one from the cabin. I’ve mentally re-lived that first morning there about a million times, by the way.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, breathless from the way his lips were progressing down the slope of my breast as he peeled the flimsy fabric away.

“I mean,” he said between searing kisses. “It was just about the best—and worst—morning of my life. You were sleeping there in your little pink panties and bra. The covers were pushed away, and I could see everything. Well, almost everything. What I couldn’t see became the focus of my existence for a few hours.”

He pushed the strap from my other shoulder and kissed down to the center clasp.

“I have never experienced a worse torture—lying there looking at your beautiful body, all curvy and smooth and warm, only inches away from me, and not being able to touch you. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I finally had to get up and go for a walk outside in the ice storm.”

“You shouldn’t have looked,” I scolded and then gasped as he snapped open the clasp and licked the newly exposed inner curve of one breast.

“How could Inotlook?”

Larson drew back enough to take in the sight of me bared before him, my flushed chest rising and falling with my rapid breaths.

His voice was hushed, almost worshipful. “Good God. How did I get so lucky? You are perfect, Kenley.”

Then there was no more talking. His mouth closed over the tip of one breast, the searing contact followed by gentle licking and pulling that drove me mindless with pleasure. I couldnotstay still.

One of his thighs was wedged between mine, and I arched my body and moved against him, restless and burning up with my need for him.

My hands coasted over his shoulders, the hard flexing muscles of his back. He felt unbelievably good. I could hardly believe I was here with him, allowed to touch him like this.

This gorgeous, passionate, unbearably sexy man wasmine. At least for tonight.

And I was all his.

As he kissed and caressed and explored my body, I felt like I belonged to him in a way I’d never felt with Mark. I belongedwithhim.

One of Larson’s hands slipped underneath me to cradle my bottom. He kissed me deeply, driving my hunger even higher, and guided me against his arousal in a steady, maddening rhythm that matched the aggressive thrusts of his tongue.

It was incredible. But it wasn’t enough. I arched, trying to bring more of me into contact with more of him, and his hand left my bottom to glide over my ribcage and up to surround my bare breast.

The groan in his throat sounded gratified and unsated at the same time. His thumb circled the nipple, bringing it instantly to a desperate tightness. I wanted his mouth there again.

As if he’d heard my mental begging, Larson’s head dipped. He fastened his lips around the sensitive peak, sucking and circling his tongue, sucking and circling.

A greedy pulse beat between my thighs, and I pressed myself against him over and over again as he kept up a slow grind against my panties. Sensation sparked all over my body, everywhere he touched me, in a pleasure so acute I could hardly stand any more.

I certainly couldn’t think, though random words flashed through my overwhelmed mind.

Good. This was so good. He was so good. And then all my muscles contracted, the pleasure he was giving me coming to a peak, and all at once came the rush, sweet and long and unbearable and complete.

Larson drew his head back, searching my face in the dimness of the room. I saw his smile, tender and yet predatory at the same time.

“God, the sounds you make—you drive me crazy.”

His body was tense, the bicep muscle under one of my hands and the long muscle along his spine under the other drawn tight.

I slipped my fingers around to his abdomen and then down, delving under the waistband of his boxers to the heat and hardness there.

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