Page 50 of The Next Door Billionaire's Deception

“Sure thing, Richard.”

The electric fireplace is already burning low when we settle on the low couch just directly opposite the fire, a bottle of wine in my hands and two glasses in hers. To create a serene ambiance, I turn off the lights, making the fire the only illumination source in the room now. In the dim light, I pour myself a glass and Melissa herself one. Setting the bottle down, I hand her glass over.

We raise our glasses for a toast. I clear my throat to begin.

“A toast, to a wonderful neighbor full of surprises.”

“A toast to a neighbor in need.”

Our glasses chime, and we both sip our wine.

Minutes pass. The atmosphere is tense, with silence hanging in the air. I rack my brain for what to say.

Turning to her, I notice another strand of hair on her temples. I move a finger to tuck the strand away, but then stop, moving my finger instead to her cheek. She turns to face me but doesn’t withdraw.

Sliding over her, my hands on her face, my mouth slants, finding her soft, wet lips. My tongue slides in, meeting hers, and we stroke each other. Her arms wrap around my neck, drawing me closer. I straddle her hips, my fingers lifting her dress to feel the smooth, spotless skin of her thighs.

My other hand travels down to hug her just beneath the full swell of her tits. I cup a feel of them through the nylon material of her dress, squeezing her delicate weight with care.

My mouth travels to her neck, and she gives a little whimper.

I lift my head to face her.

“I want you. So much I’m going crazy. Tell me you feel the same. Say it.”

She remains quiet for some moments.

“Yes,” she says, almost in a whisper.

I rise, grabbing hold of her thighs and lifting her with me. We make our way through the room and up the stairs, attacking each other’s restrictive clothing and barriers preventing our bodies from that natural fusion.

I pin her to the wall once we’re upstairs. She succeeds in unbuttoning my shirt, and the material lands on the carpet. The door opens.

The master bedroom. Perfect.

Making our way to the bed, with me still intent on feeling every part of her, I reach for the zipper fastening her dress at the back. Drawing it down, I slide the dress off her legs and toss it away.

Nothing else but a pair of underwear is on her.

She struggles with the zipping of my jeans, her trembling hands unable to bring it down. I assist her, and the jeans are soon flying off, followed by my boxers.

Melissa’s hands rest on my chest, and I pull her close, her soft, warm body nestled against hard muscles.

Laying her on the bed, I loom over her, my tongue meeting hers, then moving down. As I circle her areolas, her nipples harden to my touch.

Lowering my head, I slide downward and nuzzle between her breasts.

She releases a gasp as my mouth envelops her nipple, lapping at it, before moving to the other. She arches her back, releasing long, heavy breaths. My tongue moves over her body, dipping into her navel, then sliding lower.

I bring the tip of a middle finger to her clit. A satisfied grin appears on my face.

“You’re wet for me. So hot for me. So ready for me.”

I pull her legs over my shoulders and tease between her folds, lapping against her sensitive flesh. She breathes out my name, her moans getting louder.

“Richard …”

My tongue keeps moving around her, with long strokes teasing her, then moving lower to thrust into her.

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