Page 51 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"I love you," I repeat. "I fucking love you, Madison."

She meets my eyes, her expression tender. "I love you, too."

I pull her close and wrap my arms around her, holding her against me as her hips begin to move faster. I lose myself in the feeling of her amazing body against mine, her lips against my ear, her voice whispering my name.

"Quinn," she breathes. "I'm close..."

My hands slip down her back. "Fuck, I know..."

"Quinn!"

She moans, her hips moving faster, her orgasm already on its way. Mine is, too—I can't keep holding out when she's moaning my name like that—when her pussy feels this perfect. Her breaths are quick and labored, and I can feel her heart beating hard in her chest as she tries to regain her breath. "Fuck!"

I come along with her before I can stop myself, burying my face in her neck, kissing her, and gliding my tongue over her skin. I could get lost like this—quit my career, make it my whole fucking job to make Madison Sterling come.

All I want to do for the rest of my life is make her happy.

She presses her face into my shoulder and laughs. "We may have to stop the sex because I'm pretty sure I can't walk."

"Yeah?" I kiss her neck again. "So you're not still hungry for more?"

"Maybe not until we get back to New York," she says. "But...ah, shit."

I frown. "What?"

"I have a paper to finish up before I go back to class tomorrow morning," she says. "After class, though...can I come to your place?"

Is there any way I can ever tell her no again?

I don't think so.

"Fuck," I murmur. "I don't know if I'll survive the night without you."

"Hey, I'm just a phone call away," she says.

She pulls off of me with a soft groan of pleasure, and then she sits up on the side of the bed and stretches her arms over her head. I prop myself on my elbow just to look at her, blinking like I need to wake myself up.

This isn't a dream, right?

She's real.

"I haven't wanted to paint in a while, but I might force you to pose for me," I murmur.

She glances over her shoulder. "You paint?"

I press myself to a seat and let my eyes trace brush strokes along the curve of her neck, the sunlight on her skin. "Just...yeah, just like that."

"Taking a mental picture?" she asks.

I huff out a laugh. "For now."

She stands up and starts to gather her clothes, and I lean forward to watch her move. I'll never get sick of this—seeing her naked and well-fucked, knowing I did that to her. Her skin is flushed from our last round, and when she turns back toward me, her nipples are pointed and red from my teasing.

She bites her lip. "If you keep looking at me like that, we're never leaving this room."

"Oh no," I say with a dramatic shake of my head. "How horrible."

"Stop," she laughs. "I don't think Delia wants her house to turn into an eternal fuck palace."

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