Page 37 of The Damaged Billionaire

“Are you going to be mine?” I ask, needing confirmation. Needing to hear her say it. My finger circling, teasingly so, holding her body for ransom, wanting her to come undone, but only when I let her.

“Yours, Tennyson. All yours,” she says, her breathing rapid, eyes firmly on mine, and I can feel her about to come apart again. I grind my teeth, trying to savor the moment as she explodes. Looking right into each other’s eyes, her face flushed, her body convulses around mine. It pushes me over the edge. As I slam into her, emptying myself, feeling her contract around me, I lean forward and put my forehead to hers. The two of us are panting, a light sheen of sweat glowing on our skin. That was the hottest sex I have had since New York, the fire in me that this woman sparks no longer a simmer, but a fucking raging inferno.

“Good girl, Willow. Such a good girl,” I murmur before I kiss her like I need her more than air.

“Tennyson,” she says, pulling away slightly. Her tone is unsure, our reality seeping back into our minds.

“I meant every word I said, Willow. This is happening. We are happening,” I tell her, our bodies still connected, not wanting to leave her yet.

“Now who's being bossy?” she sasses with a small smirk, and a smile takes over my whole damn face.

“Don’t you forget it,” I say, kissing her again, ready for round two.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - WILLOW

I’m his. Utterly and completely his. I tried keeping it professional, but all that did was make me want him more. I have wanted him ever since I met him in New York. The fact that I managed to keep my hands off him this long should be awarded. His eyes and mind have been on me and only me from the start. He knew what he wanted; he has been nothing but honest with me from the start, and as hard as I tried, there is no turning back for me now. My business will survive because I am excellent at what I do. But I don’t think I could have carried on with life not giving this a chance. Not giving myself to this man. So I did, and now it is like a dam has broken and the water is rushing through—our need for each other is that overwhelming. We barely make it up to his apartment, the two of us mauling each other in the elevator. A private elevator in his office straight to his penthouse is not something I have seen before, but I have never been more grateful before in my life.

“I want to beat our record,” Tennyson says, grabbing my hand and leading me into his space. I have little time to admire it before his lips are on mine again, the two of us only having eyes for each other. The past month since we reunited felt like pure foreplay, as we both now dive straight over the professional boundaries I tried to set. The line I swore I wouldn’t cross is now a mere blip in my vision.

“What record?” I ask, my voice almost a moan against his lips, his hands pulling at my dress, trying to get it off me.

“New York. You orgasmed five times,” he says as we land in his living room, and he sits on the sofa, bringing me with him. I straddle his waist as he lifts the dress from my body, leaving me in my black lace underwear. His pants are long gone, his shirt already on the floor.

“I remember it vividly,” I pant, my lips finding his as his hands trace my curves from my hips, up my waist before he molds my breasts.

“It is burned into my memory. You have already come twice downstairs, and you won’t be leaving my bed in the middle of the night, so I am going for at least six.” His head lowers as he kisses my chest, his hand pulling down my bra cup, exposing my nipple to him. He encases it, sucking on me, licking and flicking, as my body turns into mush on his lap.

“Promises, promises,” I moan, my head falling back, his hands now wrapped around my back and holding me in place as his head is buried in my cleavage.

“Are you ready to bounce, Cupcake? Because I need these perfect tits in my face while you come on my cock,” he says, his words making me even wetter.

“I am so ready…” I say, and I see his pupils dilate as a smirk curls his lips.

“Condom is in my wallet,” he says, flicking his head to the side a little, and I spot his wallet nearby. Leaning over, his hands continue to roam over my bare skin as I grab his wallet and flip it open.

Sitting straight, he leans back on the sofa, his head falling back. He is relaxed as his eyes look over me, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. He watches me as I open the foil packet, taking out the rubber and slowly lowering it to his swollen head.

“I love you touching me,” he hisses slightly as I roll on the latex, my hands gripping him, feeling him hard, hot, and ready between us.

“There is a lot of you to touch,” I whisper, referring to his size, my hand not leaving him as I pump him slowly.

“Yeah, I’m all yours too,” he says as his breath hitches, his eyes overtaken with desire as his hand sweeps across my hips and finds my center. He rubs me then, the thin piece of lace still between us, as he moves his thumb over my nub, drawing small circles.

“Come here.” His fingers dig into my ass cheeks, lifting me and sweeping my underwear to the side, positioning himself under me.

“God, you are big,” I pant out, my hands gripping his shoulders as I slowly slide onto him.

“You are perfect for me,” he moans as I take him all the way. His hands run up my back to my bra, which he unclips and pulls from my body.

I slowly start to roll my hips. Finding a rhythm, his hands land back on my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, and he helps bounce, our skin slapping.

“That’s it. Fuck, that feels good,” he moans, his torso muscles clenching, his arms keeping me steady.

“I need…” I pant, not wanting to stop because it feels so good.

“What? What do you need?” he asks, attentive, even now.

“The lace. I need it gone,” I moan as I rock on him, needing the friction, the lace of my underwear starting to annoy me. I feel his hand move then, my underwear ripped from my body, and he pulls the thin lace from my hips and throws it across the room.

---