Page 33 of The Billionaire and the Maid

“Ella, I want to kiss you. I want to take you inside. I want to slowly take these clothes off you. And then I want to pleasure you in every way I know possible,” he whispers, his breath caressing my skin.

Jesus! Do men really talk like that? All the ones I’ve been with haven’t.

I should say no. I should leave. I shouldn’t cross this line, but every cell of my being wants everything he just said. Shit. I can’t do this. No, I can do this. I can separate my feelings and wanting to get fucked six ways to Sunday. I haven’t had sex in…well, way too long. And even then, it was with my college boyfriend, and it wasn’t that great. Chase though, Chase definitely knows what he’s doing. It’ll be like a life experience. Yeah, that’s it.

“I think I want those things too,” I manage.

The words are barely out of my mouth when Chase’s lips crash against mine. He kisses me with ten times more intensity than at the charity event. Our tongues slide against one another’s. He kisses how I imagined I’d be kissed when I was younger. Like he owns my soul, like we’re connected physically and emotionally.

His hands come up and grip my ass and I wrap my legs around his waist, seeking more, wanting to feel him everywhere. He carries me inside, sliding the door closed with his foot. I’m vaguely aware that he’s walking us to the bedroom on the main floor.

Somehow a dim light turns on, illuminating the ceiling above the crown molding. But I’m only half-aware as we continue to kiss. I slide down his front, my feet touching the tiled floor. When he pulls back, I feel my body leaning forward as if I physically crave the connection with him.

“Too many clothes,” he mumbles as he begins helping me divest of each article of clothing. When I’m left in my underwear, he steps back and looks me up and down. I’m so thankful that I have on decent underwear tonight.

I still blush under his appraising stare.

“You’re gorgeous, Ella,” he states before stepping forward and reaching around me. He expertly removes my bra in two flicks of his fingers. Shit, I can’t even remove it that fast. Then his thumbs hook in the sides of my panties and he drags them down my legs. He’s left kneeling on the floor in front of me. His head inches from the apex of my thighs. Fuck, why is that so hot? It’s like he’s worshipping me. He leans forward and presses his nose against my neatly trimmed pubic hair. Should I have waxed down there? He doesn’t seem to mind as his nose travels farther down, sliding along my damp skin.

His hands slowly travel up my legs. His thumbs separate my folds, and he leans forward, glancing up at me as his tongue darts out and licks my clit. Holy fucking shitballs!

I was not prepared for how hot that would be. He watches me as he licks and sucks at my most intimate parts. I should be mortified or, at the very least, slightly embarrassed. I’ve never had a man do this before. My college boyfriend was nice and all, but he wasn’t into “going down” on women. I suppose that should have been a red flag, but it wasn’t until years later.

“You taste amazing,” he murmurs against my wet flesh. “I need more. I need you on the bed,” he says with a hint of urgency.

My knees wobble as he abruptly stands and helps me to the bed. I fall back on the firm mattress, and he crawls onto the bed between my legs, pushing them apart. He leans back down and continues what he had started on the floor. This time, he adds two fingers to the mix, slowly working them inside me and then pushing in and out before curling them and flicking a spot inside me that I didn’t think a man could ever find.

“Oh, God!” I cry out as I feel myself start to lose control.

“That’s it, Ella. Come for me,” Chase whispers and then licks his tongue rapidly against my clit as his fingers scissor inside me.

I feel my muscles clench just before I spiral into the abyss, crying out his name in the process. The room seems to go perfectly still as I sink into the mattress.

Chase slowly pulls his fingers free and then peppers kisses along my thighs, stomach, breasts, and neck.

“I could never have imagined a more perfect woman,” he murmurs into the hollow of my collarbone.

“You’re crazy. I’m not perfect,” I say, my eyes still closed.

I feel him shift. I’m fairly certain he’s taking off his clothes, but I’m too spent to open my eyes to check. Then I hear a drawer open and close, followed by a rip of a foil packet. A moment later, I feel his erection at my entrance.

My eyes fly open. “But…I…don’t you want me to…” I trail off lost for words.

He smiles down at me as he takes my thighs in his hands and pushes them farther apart.

“No, Eleanor the Great, I need to be inside you, right now,” he says, his voice strained. I stare up at him in wonder. He remembered his old nickname for me.

I’m lost in thought for a few seconds until I feel the head of his cock slide inside me. I haven’t seen all of him, but I’m fairly certain he’s too big. There’s no way this can work. It defies the properties of physics.

“I—I don’t think—” I start but he cuts me off.

“It’ll fit. Let me make this good for you, Ella. Relax,” he encourages softly. He’s slow as he pushes in a little at a time, giving me seconds to acclimate before he goes farther. And then he slides to the hilt and we both groan.

“See, a perfect fit,” he manages before pulling all the way out and slamming back inside me. I let out a strangled moan as my body starts to meet his in a perfect rhythm.

“Don’t stop,” I urge as I grip his shoulders.

“Never. Going. To. Stop,” he grunts with each thrust.

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