Page 6 of Most Eligible Billionaire CEO

“It was a fun evening.”

“You’re a bad liar. You were trying to escape at the end of the evening by pretending to go to the bathroom.”

Busted!

I’m unsure if he’s amused or offended by my attempt to escape.

“I can’t blame you,” he goes on, “The only fun thing about this evening was watching you move in that form-fitting dress that hugs every single one of your curves to perfection. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire night.”

I don’t have time to respond to Bryce’s boldness. He places a finger at the base of my throat, and draws a sensual vertical line downwards, navigating between my breasts. His finger finds its way to my nipple, stroking it through the fabric, and I can tell from his hungry eyes that we’re both taking pleasure from his salacious act.

“It should be illegal to have such a hot little body as yours,” he whispers in my ear.

God.

He pinches my nipple, eliciting a gasp from me. The chauffeured car stops and he pulls away from me. “I’ll come around.”

My heart is pounding. “Okay.”

He gets out, circles the car, and helps me out, takes me by the hand, and leads me to the front door of the hotel.

“I have your money upstairs. Follow me,” he commands.

We grab an elevator, and when the doors close behind us, Bryce corners me. Without saying a word, he holds my gaze while running one of his hands under my dress, as he cups my breast with his other hand.

When he squeezes my breast and an ass cheek at the same time, I can’t help but let out a carnal muffled sound. The elevator bell and the opening doors separate our embrace. Bryce drags me with a sense of urgency to his room.

He pushes the door closed and slams me against it.

I gasp, excitement fluttering through me.

He slides a hand under my dress and up my thigh, until his fingers reach the crotch of my thong, grazing my pussy through the lace.

“Hot,” he says, “and wet.” He tugs my panties down, leaving me panting, my own wetness trailing down my trembling legs.

I don’t need telling to step out of them.

He picks them up and tosses them over his shoulder.

“I want you facing that wall,” he orders.

On a shaky exhale, I do as I’m told.

He unzips my dress. It pools at my feet.

“Step out of it.”

“Okay.”

A swishing sound lets me know he tossed my dress over his shoulder, too.

I’m about to remove my heels, but he stops me with his husky voice. “The heels stay on. You look sexy in them.”

“Okay.” I’m down to one word in the English language.

I’m so out of my depth.

He unhooks my bra, releasing my engorged breasts and hard nipples.

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