‘Yes.’

‘I like you.’ He frowned as if that wasn’t a good thing. ‘I want the best for you.’

She just wanted to enjoy this attraction—and end up free of it. ‘Then give me the best.’

He smiled, his eyes lighting up.

‘Don’t tease me any more,’ she begged. She needed him to come nearer, to stop talking, to make her feel as if she wasn’t about to make a massive fool of herself.

‘But it’s all about the tease.’ A glimpse of humour.

‘You know what I mean.’ She wanted it to be fast. She wanted to get the release, to be freed from it. For it to be over.

He stepped close. The brilliant thing about the height of his bed was that she didn’t have to crane her neck too far to look at him. With a single finger he traced the hem of her dress—now rucked up to just over her knees. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t moving faster already. But instead he put his hands on her pressed-together knees and exerted the smallest pressure.

‘Let me in, Mya.’ His gaze didn’t leave her face. ‘Let me in.’

Mya trembled at the cool command. He seemed to be asking for more than access to her body. ‘I am.’ She swung her legs wide.

‘No.’ He bent and his lips brushed her neck. ‘If we’re doing this, then I want everything tonight.’ He ran two fingers down her cheek; the slight pressure made her turn her head. He whispered into her exposed ear. His words a caress, an intimacy. As if he’d somehow accessed her soul. ‘How much do you want this?’ His lips brushed the whorls of her ear. ‘It better be as much as I do because otherwise you might not be able to keep up.’

‘You’re that fabulous, huh?’

‘I just want to be sure we’re on the same page for this evening. Because it ain’t over.’

‘I’m not fat and I’m not about to sing,’ she said with a hint of her old defiance.

‘What about screaming?’ He leaned closer until there was nothing but a whisper of air between them. She could feel the heat radiating from him, and her own emotions burned.

Tired of talk, tired of waiting, Mya wanted action.

She lifted her chin and laid one on him.

For a moment Brad lost control of the situation. For someone who supposedly suffered extreme sensitivity, Mya could give a blisteringly hard kiss. Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him there while beneath his mouth hers was lush and hungry. Startled, he gave it to her—the full brunt of the want that had burdened him these past weeks. He dived deep into her sweet mouth, tangling his tongue against her equally ravenous one. He pressed harder until he felt her trembling and moaning already.

He eased it back a bit, put his hands on her face, cupping those beautiful cheekbones with gentle fingers and pulling back just enough for their lips to barely be clinging. ‘I have no intention of bruising you,’ he said quietly.

That nagging feeling that she was holding back wouldn’t leave him. What held her so reserved? While she smiled and joked with the bar patrons and Lauren’s boys, there was that distance that he’d seen no one breach. He wanted to be the one who broke all the way in.

So while there was a time and a place for hot and hard, quick and rough sex, this wasn’t it. She wanted it that way. He knew she did. She was desperate to have him to have the release. And for it to be over. Because there was that part of her that was mad with herself for wanting him as badly as she did. She didn’t want to be another of his conquests. She didn’t understand yet that she wasn’t.

Because there was his own confounding desire for her to come to terms with. He hadn’t realised it was possible to want a woman this much. He’d craved sex before. Of course he had. But that had been sex. That had been about getting the pleasure and the release. This was about her. This was about seeing her shaking and out of control and filled with ecstasy. This was about seeing her weak with wanting him, with her unable to stand—only being able to lie on a bed and beg for him to come to her. Oh, yeah, the submissive fantasies were a first.

And now he had her—lying back on his bed with that dress even more rucked up, giving him a glimpse of lace-covered treasure. He tensed every muscle to fight the urge to dive straight in. Heat tightened his skin; he felt as if he were on the rack—stretched well beyond his usual limitations. And now she forced him closer than he’d like. Pushed him to intrude deeper than he normally would. Yes, he wanted it all from her.

He quickly stripped himself and then straddled her on the bed and let the ribbons slide through his fingers as he loosened them enough to pull the bodice of the dress down to bare her beautiful, bountiful breasts.

She shivered before he even touched them. He let his fingers trace near to their precious peaks, so slowly and gently—watching to see how she coped. She moved restlessly beneath him. He bent closer, traced his tongue around the tight, rosy nipples and blew warm air over the tips of them.

She shuddered.

‘Too much?’ he asked softly.

She shook her head, her chest rising and falling quickly. He carefully cupped her soft flesh, let the centre of his palm touch her nipple. She shuddered again and arched her back, pushing her breasts deeper into his hands. He pushed his hands together, pushing her breasts together, letting her nipples peep over the top of his cupped hands. Beautiful. Big and beautiful and so responsive. He blew on them again. And then so carefully bent to brush his lips over them.

‘Oh, no,’ she whimpered.

‘Okay?’ he murmured, caressing them ever so softly.

She nodded and arched towards him again so he kept up the slow, wet caresses.

Her hips rocked now and he smiled at her giveaway reaction. Did she want the same treatment down there? He sure as hell hoped so. He stripped away her small briefs and then kissed his way down her flat stomach, his own excitement uncontrollable as he neared her most intimate curves. He’d dreamed of this for so long, he could hardly believe it was real now. But she was warm and writhing and tasted so hot. Her response deepened, her movements wild.

The pleasure of seeing her so wanting was more satisfying than anything in his life. He peeled her legs further apart, tasting her glistening femininity, holding her hips firmly so she couldn’t escape him as she stiffened and then began to convulse. He sucked on her most sensitive nub and then buried his tongue inside her, quickly reaching up to cup her breasts and cover her nipples—diamond hard now, they pressed into his palms. He applied more pressure and tasted the reward as she came hard and loud, screaming for him.

He breathed hard, flicking his tongue to see her through the aftershocks and then he moved quickly. But his fingers were all thumbs as he tried to get the condom on.

‘Damn,’ he muttered. Desperate, the need to drive deep within her the only thing circling in his head.

Now. Now. Now.

His lungs burned, his heart thump

ed—and he’d not even started. He was going to embarrass himself at this rate.

‘Can I help?’ she teased.

‘No,’ he snapped hoarsely. Instantly feeling bad about biting her head off.

But she laughed. A throaty, sexy laugh as if she knew just how he was feeling.

It was all right for her—she’d had her first orgasm. Finally he was sheathed. He knelt and gazed at her. His gaze fixed on the cherry-red, too-sensitive nipples, lowered to her pink, glistening sex and then he looked up into her glowing eyes.

His heart seized.

Her laughter faded. ‘Brad?’

Her voice lifted a notch, the return of excitement even though she perceived the threat. Oh, yeah, he had plans. He leaned over her, relishing using his size to dominate her. But she wasn’t intimidated. Not her, no—her smile returned. Those wide, uneven lips parted and revealed that sexy-as-hell gap. All petite, fragile, strong woman.

Take. Take. Take.

So he did. Peeling her legs further apart, he took position, his aching erection pressing against her slippery, sweet entrance. So hot for him. Meeting his gaze unflinchingly, her breasts rising and falling fast as she waited for him to finally take her.

And he did—surging forward to encase himself in one swift movement. But he was almost obliterated as he felt her clamp around him for the first time. He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, locked still to stop the instant orgasm before he’d begun any kind of rhythm. That just wasn’t happening.

He breathed hard, pushing back the blissful, delirious fog, refusing his release until he’d seen her too strung out to scream any more. And finally he moved, slow, back and forth, circular. Stopping to caress her breasts, her neck, her lips. Teasing, nipping, sucking—savouring every inch of skin he could access while locking himself inside her. And it was good. So damn good.

‘Please let me come, please let me come,’ she begged him, writhing again, her face flushed and her skin damp.

Victory sang in his veins as he slowly claimed, withdrew and reclaimed his place right in the core of her. Her clenching, soft heat offered unutterable joy as much as it did wicked torment. And he was too ecstatic to care about the implications of the one thought hammering in his head.


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance