Page 41 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"You want me to touch you, Madison?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Touch me, Quinn. I want you to feel how wet I am."

He groans into the phone, and I bite my lip. "God...I can't stop thinking about you. I've fantasized about fucking you in every room of this apartment."

"What do you want to do to me?" I whisper, my hand sliding past my shorts.

"I want to make you come," he breathes. "I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name. I want it to be so good that you beg me not to stop."

"Do it," I whisper. "Please. I want you to make me come."

"That's my good girl," he says. "Next time you're here...fuck, I'm not going to stop. I'm going to keep you naked and coming for days."

"I want you inside me, Quinn," I beg. "I'm so wet for you."

"Fuck," he moans, and I can picture him stroking his cock. I hear him moving, and I know he's got his hand in his pants just like I do. "You still want me, Madison?"

"Yes," I whisper. "I want you to fuck me."

"I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk afterward," he whispers. "I want to fuck that pretty ass of yours. I want to have you bent over, your bare ass in the air, and then I want you to come on my cock."

His gentleness with me just makes the way he talks that much hotter. Soon, I'm thrusting my hips up into my hand, on the verge of coming.

"I need you," I moan. "I need you to fuck me, Quinn. Please, fuck me."

"That's my good girl," he says, and I can hear his breathing getting harder. I would take the subway to his place in the middle of the night if he asked me to.

"Come over," I beg.

"I can't," he says. "No... we have to wait. I want you to come for me right now, Madison. Can you do that?"

"Yes," I purr. "Please. Make me come for you."

I close my eyes in my darkened bedroom, imagining Quinn's face. He's written into the story in my head. I've memorized every smile line, his dark eyes, the way his muscles flexed as he fucked me on his desk.

"Come for me, baby."

I let my orgasm go, bucking my hips up off my bed. I cry out, biting my lip to keep quiet, and I hear him curse under his breath, his voice hoarse. The phone falls to the bed, and I put it on speaker just so I can listen to him groan.

My orgasm is still hitting me in waves when he speaks up, barely a whisper.

"I can't wait to fuck you again," he says. "This weekend. Salem."

"Oh, God," I moan. "I can't wait either. Are you sure we can't tomorrow...?"

He sighs, and I know he's being honest when he says, "I can't. I...I have to drive my brother to a rehab place upstate."

"Oh," I breathe. "Quinn...I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," he says. "He's going to be fine. Just...bad timing."

It feels weird to pivot to comforting him after I just had the best phone sex of my life, but it also feels right. I sit up in bed and hold the phone to my face, chewing on my lip.

"I'm here for you," I say quietly. "Anytime you want to talk. You know that, right?"

"I know," he says. "And I'll catch you up on the drive to Salem on Friday afternoon, I promise."

"Okay," I reply. "I..."

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