Page 60 of The Reluctant Billionaire

He is a seriously beautiful man. That dark beard of his looks more neatly trimmed than it did last week. It showcases the sharp jut of his jaw and the generous curves of his lips, which still bear evidence of my arousal on them. His eyes are hooded as he observes me from under that thick black canopy of lashes. The top button of his shirt is open, but I need more. I need to see my gorgeous, hairy Aide in all his glory.

He shudders as I lower my mouth to his, running my tongue slowly over his lower lip and tasting myself on it. With one hand, he grabs the back of my neck, pressing me to him as his tongue finds mine. He kisses me like a man who’s been pushed past the point of reason, his lips hard against my mouth and his tongue taut. Invading me. I open myself up for him and grind myself harder against him as his other hand goes to my bum, kneading and pulling me against him.

‘Fuck,’ he grunts against my lips. ‘I could come like this.’

‘Condom,’ I say breathlessly. I sit back as he arches his back, digging in his pocket for his wallet. I take advantage of the moment to slip his shirt buttons through their buttonholes, tugging the shirt out of his waistband so I can finish opening it.

There he is.

I smirk as I survey my handiwork. ‘Hot as hell,’ I murmur. The crisp white shirt lies open, giving me the perfect view of Aide’s hard, tanned, hairy body underneath, that intricate Celtic cross resting right between his collarbones. God, he’s a work of art, and exposing his raw masculinity beneath his custom tailoring is like unwrapping the perfect present.

I take that back as he holds up a condom for me. ‘Put it on me, sweetheart.’

Thisis unwrapping the perfect present.

Unbuckling his understated but very nice belt.

Unzipping those lustrous Italian wool trousers.

Tugging down the waistband of his black boxer briefs so I can extricate his dick.

Oh God,yes.

Would you look at that.

He’s ready to explode.

I rip open the foil and position the condom over his angry, swollen crown before rolling it carefully over his length. He rumbles low in his throat and palms my boobs, weighing them, kneading them in his hands as his fingers strum my nipples, sending new flashes of heat straight to my core.

‘Fuck, I missed these,’ he tells me with a pained grin as I raise myself far enough off his lap to position myself directly above his cock.

We stare at each other as I lower myself down onto his thick length, inch by inch. As the glorious sensation of fullness sweeps over me I explore his body, sliding my hands under his shirt, along the bunched muscles of his shoulders, over his pecs.‘Yes,’I tell him through clenched teeth. Sweat prickles on my skin as I attempt to accommodate him because gosh is it a tight fit.

He groans, his big hands sweeping over my bare skin, eyes searching my face. ‘Fuck, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I manage. ‘It feels amazing.’

‘You’re nearly there.’

Nearly. Bloody hell. I force myself to exhale, to relax, to allow my body to take him in more fully. Then I give, and he jerks, and he’s fully sheathed inside me.

‘Give me a second to enjoy this,’ he whispers, ‘because I’m not sure I’ll last long.’

I nod, bending my head to kiss him deeply as I marvel at the sensation of being completely full of him. His hands are everywhere, stroking me, caressing me. They worship my boobs, and rake through my hair, and slide down my back, and grip my hips.

There’s something about being completely naked while Aide remains fully dressed that’s infinitely arousing. It’s as if he’s reminding me of his power. He’s the one in charge. He’s the one sitting back in his crazy office, his business on hold while he prepares to fuck a stark-naked woman, to have her writhe and purr for him in his lap.

The idea of it, and the physical reality of being impaled on his dick, is overwhelming.

My body needs more.

I grab onto his shoulders and drag myself up his dick. The friction is indescribable. I pause when only his crown remains inside me and hold there.

‘Fuck, Lotts,’ he murmurs, taking advantage of my height to dip his mouth to my breast and take a leisurely taste of my nipple. He snags it lightly between his teeth and flicks it with his tongue, making a ravenous humming noise as he does it. God, it feels amazing. I whimper and rake my fingernails through his thick hair to show my appreciation. He switches boobs, his fingers working my still-wet nipple, and I feel his crown pulse against my entrance.

He releases my nipple with a pop and sits back, jerking his hips towards the front of the sofa so he can recline more fully. I almost lose my grip on him.

‘Ride my cock hard, sweetheart,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘Hard as you can.’

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