Page 93 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

“Let’s just be discreet,” she murmured, undoing his belt with a severe look. Which meant keeping it quiet, keeping this under wraps. Sure, America might not find out, but the entire crew didn’t need to know about their after-hours shenanigans tomorrow. They didn’t need to scandalize whoever might chance walking into the multipurpose room tonight.

“Mmm.” Chris took her chin between thumb and forefinger, then captured her lips in another kiss. She abandoned her quest to undo his pants, sideswiped by the intensity of their make-out session. Why was he the best kisser? It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Tears pricked her eyes for some reason, but she refused to dwell on that. She was so turned on she felt as if she might break into pieces. It was making her crazy. She just needed to get laid and be done with it. Then she could put him out of her mind and concentrate on winning.

Her resolve strengthened with the decision. Yes. Fucking Chris in the kitchenwasthe solution.

She resumed her work freeing his cock, pushing his pants down, and then slipping her hand under the fabric of his boxers. He moaned when her hand found the hot steel of his cock, already rock hard in her grip. She fingered the bulbous head for a moment, flashing back to junior year when his cock had beenthe firstcock she’d ever fondled. Then Chris pushed her against the countertop, his movement both fierce and measured. Like he was just barely containing the passion.

“These need to come offnow,” he growled, tugging at her jeans. They crumpled to her ankles a moment later, and then he hoisted her onto the counter. Her legs splayed open and he filled the space there. She couldn’t fight the grin.

He settled between her legs, the bulge of his boxers pressing against the damp crotch of her panties. His chest heaved as he fished his cock out of his underwear and then pushed aside the scrap between her legs.

He froze, and she startled. “What is it? Did you hear someone?”

Shaking his head. “Nope. Almost forgot something important.” Reaching down, he found his wallet and pulled a foil packet out.

“So, something I’ve always wondered. Do all men carry condoms around with them?”

Chris tore open the packet and rolled the condom on, making a hissing sound as he did. “Better safe than having blue balls. Now, where was I? Oh yes.”

She gasped when his erection slipped over the damp heat of her crease. She locked her arms around his neck and arched, needing more of it. More of him. He wet his bottom lip, his cockhead nudging her throbbing clit. She cried out. So much for being quiet.

“Chris!” She locked her knees around him, urging more of it. “God, I need it. Please. Come on. Quit teasing me.”

His breath came out in hot bursts at her ear. “Yeah? You want what I got?”

“Bring it, Denton.” She dug her fingernails into his sides, jerking at his waist. He brushed his cock against her clit again, and she whimpered.

“I want to hear you beg for it, Mara. Like you used to. Those sweet cries you used to make were the stuff of fantasies.” His cock slipped along her damp folds, and she bucked against him desperate to have him inside her.

“Fuck you,” she said with a laugh. She felt almost delirious with need. Happy and eager and somehow relieved to be here with him now after so many years apart.

“Mmm. Fuckyou,” he said and eased himself inside her with a lusty groan. “Oh…yeah.”

Her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as he sank in, inch by inch. So slowly that she wanted to scream, but she was too enamored with the sensations to do anything but moan at how good it felt. How goodhefelt.

Chris gripped her by the hips as he pushed himself deeper. When he was buried to the hilt, he took a shaky breath. The heat in his gaze told her everything she needed to know.

“God, Mara,” he whispered into her ear, flexing his hips against her even though there was no more depth to find. “You feel fucking divine.”

She moaned, nipping at his earlobe. “Back atcha.”

Chris rocked against her, finding a quick and pointed rhythm, one that left her gasping and gripping tighter against him. The harder he fucked her, the closer she came to the precipice of an amazing orgasm. She pushed her hands under the front of his shirt, seeking the warm steel of his chest. He moaned when she scraped her nails over his abs.

“Careful,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I’m close,” he warned and then thrust inside her again. “Like, really fucking close.”

He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, and she smiled lazily. “Me too.”

He drilled into her again, prompting a moan from both of them. Her composure was fuzzy at the edges, the warning signal that she was almost there. She arched against him and tossed her head back as he pushed himself as deep as possible. Electricity skated across her arms as she groaned, falling over the edge in a liquid, languid dive. She clutched his arms, her nails digging in. An animalistic noise ripped out of her, and all she could do was cling to him as the waves of pleasure rolled through her.

Chris grunted and stilled, his eyes squeezed shut. His belly turned to stone, as he thrust against her one last time, his body shuddering in response to the pleasure rolling through him as his cock spasmed.

He breathed heavily for a moment, his icy eyes riveted on hers. And then he stepped back, sliding out of her and removing the condom. Tying it off, he tossed it in the trash, then grabbed for a nearby towel, wiping himself off before he tucked himself back inside his boxers.

Mara watched in a daze. Part of her even wondered if maybe it was a fever dream. Some sort of first-day-of-filming insanity that had pushed them both over the edge.

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