Page 67 of The Dancer and the Grumpy Billionaire

“Never,” he growls.

CHAPTER 30

Vasily

Gigi moans as I spread her legs wide, my eager mouth kissing up her calves to her thighs as she sleeps. My breath is hot against her pussy, my tongue slowly tasting her slit, all the way up to her clit. Her hips move, but she doesn’t wake.

I fall more in love with her each time I look at her. This morning, she wears a thin, ice-blue satin nightgown. One nipple is exposed as a strap falls down on her shoulder. Her hair, now longer, splays wildly on her pillow. Her mouth is slightly open.

I love the taste of her, the way her fingers will splay open, then close, then grasp for the sheets as her body wakes up, as she builds toward her climax. This is my favorite way to wake up, our bodies connecting even before our brains fully wake for the day. I love how she moans and writhes against my mouth. I give her more tongue, more fingers. I go faster and harder as I stroke her to climax. I love the surprised breath she takes as her eyes flutter, her body awakening her spirit. I love the hooded, sleepy eyes as my ministrations come into focus.

“I thought I was having a really sexy dream,” she says quietly, still half-asleep.

“You were; go back to it,” I say, not nearly full of her yet. “I’m not stopping until you come. I want to taste you.”

She moans, long and guttural, pushing her legs even wider, giving me full access to all of her most sensitive parts. She rides my face as I feast on all of her, my mouth insistent and hungry and my fingers curious. This is addictive. She, her body, it is all addictive. I could die this way. I would be happy to die this way.

Her core tightens and she sits up as if possessed, her hands in my hair as she pushes herself against my face, her hips writhing. It is animal, this thing between us. She needs to feel this, needs to have her body stiffen, her every atom filled with endorphins that will take her up, up, up until she falls into the abyss, lost to this lust.

Only when she lets go and falls back to the bed that I move, hovering over her, kissing that peeking nipple, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her hips still lift to meet mine as I slip inside, moaning at how good it feels. I tell her this, that it feels good, that I love her body, that she tastes like honey. I tell her she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known, the bravest, the smartest.

“Iwantyou,” she whines as I take her slowly, carefully, savoring the wet warmth of her around my cock.

“You have me,” I say, placing a kiss on her neck.

“I meannow. Harder, deeper.”

“Greedy,” I admonish with a wicked grin.

She moans again and I know she could get there, wants to get there again. And harder and deeper means that I flip her to her stomach, feet planted on the floor, ass on full display.

I push inside and that low, guttural moan erupts again. She grasps at the blankets as I pummel her, going harder and deeper with each stroke.

It does not take a long time for her to fall back over the edge, and I fall with her, releasing myself with an animal sound.

After, I carry a limp-boned Gigi to the bath, where she soaks while I make breakfast.

She comes down the stairs gingerly, blushing as if it was embarrassing to let herself go like that. I meet her, kissing her quickly on the temple.

“I made pancakes,” I say.

We sit at the table together, eating, after which she says she will clean up the kitchen and then head out for her morning chores. I pull out my laptop, still finishing my food.

“How are things going with your new venture?” she asks.

“Really good,” I answer.

“Oh?” she asks from her spot at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. Have you heard of Mira Thompson?” I ask.

“No, I cannot say that I have,” she answers. “Oh, wait, isn’t she a Congresswoman or something?”

“That’s right,” Vasily says. “Well, her husband is a big venture-capital guy who started investing more exclusively in ideas that are meant to make communities better. Mostly I think he likes the idea of economic development, but Katharine tells me he might be interested in investing in some nonprofit, human needs types of projects. Chris Jenkins is his name. Katharine is supposed to put us in touch.”

“That sounds promising,” she says, genuinely happy.

I have decided to use my legal background to set up a nonprofit dedicated to intercepting human trafficking victims worldwide. I have built the network but need someone to help invest in the technology solution. After mobilizing the team to get Gigi, I kept thinking about how we could organize the resources to make pickups without bloodshed.

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