Page 31 of The Reluctant Billionaire

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

The pleasure is so instant, so intense, that I gasp aloud and arch into him, stroking my hands over his shoulders before letting one get tangled up in his hair again.

My encouragement seems to stoke him. He continues to suck, to tease my nipple with his mouth, his teeth catching it lightly so he can strum at it with his tongue, while he palms my other breast. Kneads it. Rolls my nipple around under his calloused skin. His other hand finds my back again, and he splays his huge fingers across me as it roams up and down my spine.

I’m lost in a stupor of sensation. My legs are shaking, and I’m conscious only of Aide’s touch. Of where he’s devouring my skin with his mouth and his hands. He makes ravenous humming noises at the back of his throat, and I press against him harder, clutching his head to my body and gasping whenever his mouth switches nipples.

He was right the other day. I could come just from this. I totally could, and I possibly will. It seems I’m not the only one being wound higher and higher, because next thing he’s pushing off the desk and standing, dragging his mouth from my chest and up my neck, teeth and lips and tongue exploring me, his breath coming in harsh bursts.

He wraps me in his arms, one arm banding tightly around my shoulders as the other one finds my shorts and cups my bum. Hard. As he holds me flush against him, I have the singular, exquisite pleasure of being surrounded by Aide. Completely consumed by him. Most pressingly, his dick is rock hard and wedged against me, the fabric of his work trousers rough against my bare stomach.

His heart is hammering against me, as I suspect mine is against him. The hand around my shoulders finds my hair and fists it, tugging my face upwards. I’m treated for a second to the glorious, otherworldly sight of this godlike man staring down at me with starvation and awe wrought in every gorgeous feature, and I gaze back with what must be utter adoration, because I am gone.

And then his mouth is upon me, hot and hungry, and I’m really, really gone, because it seems Aide’s found his stride. It seems he’s finally unleashing himself, unleashing himselfupon me, and I know I will take every last morsel this man is prepared to give me. Even if it slays me. Even if he pushes me to my limits, and stretches me, and challenges me, and demands every last ounce of my strength, I will take it all.

And I will give him everything.

His mouth is soft and hard all at once. His beard is ticklish and abrasive against my lips, my chin, and all I can think isI need that between my legs.

There’s no hesitation now.

No restraint.

No barely there self-control.

No poor attempt at manners.

It’s all gone, blown to smithereens, and all that’s left in its place is Aide’s unsated appetite. His tongue thrusts straight into my mouth, and I groan and arch my hips as hard against his erection as I can while my tongue fights with his. We entangle, and dance, and spar. The sensation of being overpowered by him is like nothing I’ve ever known.

I wriggle with need against him, my bare boobs squished against his hard chest, the fine ribbing of his vest rubbing at my nipples exactly the way I need. He responds by grabbing my bum harder, his fingers stretching low and burrowing under the frayed hem of my cutoffs so he can dig them right into the crease where my cheek meets my thigh.

I need them further up. Furtherin.I want him to consume me with his tongue and his fingers and his dick. I want to be conscious of nothing else on this earth but this man.

I tug at his hair and kiss him harder, moaning into his mouth, and he makes a pleased, approving noise in response that nearly undoes me. I’m desperate for as much of him as I can get, desperate to make it count. He tastes of whisky and he smells incredible: sweat, and hard work, and so many sex hormones that I feel like a mare in heat. I manage to get my other hand under the hem of his vest, and my fingertips encounter sweat-slicked skin.

He releases my mouth and tugs at my hair again, this time to pull my head to one side. Then he’s kissing back down my neck and pulling away enough to wedge his hands between us. ‘Look at me,’ he says, his voice low. Rough.

I open my eyes and gaze up at him in a fog of lust. His lips are wet and swollen, his eyes glazed and hooded. ‘How’s this?’ he asks. He cups both my boobs and strums his thumbs over my nipples again. I knit my brows together at the unutterable pleasure that is Aide touching me with those big, calloused thumbs while staring right into my eyes. The intensity is overwhelming. I’m laid bare for only him to see.

‘Amazing,’ I tell him huskily. ‘Harder.’

His answering smile is smug, and I fucking love it. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says softly, and he ups the ante, pinching my nipples hard as he watches my face. ‘Think you can come like this?’

‘I know I can,’ I tell him on a gasp, ‘but I’d much rather you played with my clit, too.’

He chokes out a pained laugh. ‘I bet you would. I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come.’

‘I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come all over my tits,’ I retort, and he shakes his head like he just can’t handle that idea.

Like it’s a bad idea for us to even go there.

He releases one nipple and goes to unbutton the flies of my cutoffs but, before he can, there’s a loud rap at the door that has us both jumping out of our skin.

‘Aide?’ Sylvie cries. ‘You ready to dish up?’

‘Fuck,’ I whisper. She has got to be kidding me. This is the worst timing ever. I look around on the floor for my bra.

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