Page 126 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
“What do you need?”
“Do I… Is this one-sided?” I ask.
His eyes widen and he looks at me as if I asked if he was the Easter bunny.
He shakes his head as he undoes his belt and works open his jeans so his dick springs free. Brazenly, he strokes the swollen flesh from root to tip. It’s big, like him. Thick and long. I question my ability to take him.
“I’ll fit,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “You were made for me.”
As he continues to stroke himself, he says, “Lift the skirt. Show me what’s mine.”
I lick my lips with anticipation, loving that he’s taking control. That all I have to do is feel and get lost in the way he’s looking at me. At the way he so blatantly wants me, too.
“This is crazy.” I reach for the hem of my skirt.
“Nothing wrong with crazy.” His gaze remains affixed to my fingers and the expanse of thigh that is slowly being revealed.
“I’m a detective investigating you,” I remind him.
We didn’t talk about my work at all through dinner. Only a little on the drive.
“You know I’m innocent, otherwise you wouldn’t be showing me—fuck, baby—that pretty little pussy.”
My skirt is crumpled in my grip and he can see all of me from the waist down. Bare for him.
His blue eyes meet mine as his hand stills around his dick.
“You want to stop? You want me to leave so you can get the proof you need that backs my words and your instinct? You want to delay what’s going to happen between us just because your partner might get a little pissy?”
I shake my head.
“Good. I don’t want to talk about Peterson or this investigation while my dick’s out and your slit is shining for me. You know his thoughts are flawed.”
“Miles,” I whisper.
“You decide, sweetheart. I’ll go with whatever you decide. I’ll only touch you if you’re with me one hundred percent.”
Am I crazy? Yes. Am I stupid? No. I won’t lose my job over this because there’s no evidence of Miles being involved in the murder in any way. Sure, I could make for a terrible witness on the stand if it ever got to that. But it won’t. It can’t because Miles wasn’t involved.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’m all in.”
A smile curls his lips and he looks almost feral. “Be a good girl and turn around. Bend over and put your hands on the coffee table, ass up, so I can eat that pussy for dessert.”
Oh. My. God.
He waits, one hand around his dick, one on his thick thigh.
I turn, stare at the hall to my bedroom, and then lean forward.
He grips my hips, and I gasp as he pulls me back. At the first lick of his tongue, I cry out and arch my back.
“Fuck, yes.” He fans my sensitive flesh.
Then he gets to work eating me. Not one part of my pussy is neglected. I drop my head and I can see between my parted legs his dick—its hunger and thickness as it protrudes from the front of his jeans and boxers, as if it can’t be contained. There’s a pearly drop of fluid at the slit and I want to taste him as he’s tasting me.
