Page 61 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

Madison

QuinnandIdon'treally get out of bed for three days, just...ignoring the world.

Our phone batteries dwindle, and we run out of coffee. On night three, we eat takeout in nothing but our underwear in the living room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, and then Quinn holds me as we watch an old rom-com.

I think this is bliss.

This is what it's supposed to feel like.

And I can't stop thinking about what he told me...that he loves me, yeah, but more than that, what he said about my dad when I asked if he was worried about him finding out about us.

He's my friend, sure. But you're everything.

"You look...pensive," Quinn says, kissing my temple when I plop down on the couch next to him again after bringing our dishes to the kitchen. "What's on your mind?"

"Something you said," I murmur, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the movie.

"I've said...a lot of things over the past few days," Quinn says with a laugh. "What's up?"

I bite my lip. "You said you weren't worried about my dad finding out about us because 'he's your friend, but I'm everything.' And something clicked."

"Meaning...?"

I frown. "That's how Kylie felt," I say. "Like—I'm her friend, but my father is everything to her. And that...it hurts, but I get it."

"Do you want to call her?"

"Not yet," I say. "Because I'm still figuring out how to deal with what my father did to me...and now what I did to him."

Quinn scoffs. "The power dynamic is totally different, Madison. You can't blame yourself."

"He fucked my best friend; I did the same thing," I say. "How is it different?"

"You're his daughter," Quinn says. "He's supposed to be the adult in the room. And you...you didn't exactly seduce me."

My eyes slide up to meet his, a wry smile on my face. "Didn't I?"

Quinn laughs softly and pulls me into his lap, my legs straddling his hips. His fingers slide into my hair, and he places a kiss on my lips, then my jaw, then my neck.

"I wanted you from the second I sat down next to you by the lake at the wedding," he says. "And I knew we were walking on the edge of a dangerous line...but I kept talking to you, kept texting, and hired you. By the time you came on as our designer for the theatre, I think we both knew what was going to happen."

"It was inevitable," I whisper, tilting my head to give him better access as he brushes his lips along my collarbone and pulls the bra strap off my shoulder.

My consciousness slips sideways, and I stop thinking about anything but Quinn as he unhooks my bra and drags his tongue over the sensitive bud of my breast, ravishing the other with his left hand. His right spreads wide across my lower back, holding me to him so I feel his hard cock at my core.

"Fuck me again," I breathe. "I need you."

"You have me," he says, hooking his fingers into the sides of my panties. "But I think you need this, too."

Quinn's fingers slide through my folds, circling my clit before sliding inside of me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and rest my head on his, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the pleasure, the sensation...

"Just feel," Quinn murmurs.

And I do.

When my orgasm tears through me, it's not as shattering as that first, devastating time—but there's the same sense of desperation as he works me over, making me writhe and buck against him as I come undone. He captures my lips with his as our hands scramble to take off clothes, to pull his boxers down, to tear my panties aside.

He thrusts home, and I slide down his length, wet and needy and lost in what I know is the love of my life.

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