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He smiled, mouth still against my skin. “It’s coming off.”

Working the sleeves over my shoulders, he peeled the fabric down my body, bending his knees and crouching until it was pooled at my feet. I closed my eyes. I was wearing nothing but my heels, the new bra, and one of my sexiest thongs.

“Out,” he said, tugging at the fabric.

I stepped out, squeezing my eyes shut. A swish sounded, and then Damien’s hands were on my legs, fingers splayed as he ran them up my calves, over my knees, up the backs of my thighs until he cupped the curves of my ass cheeks.

“Can’t imagine why you wore these.” His lips brushed my skin, just next to the band of my underwear, and stood, gripping my hips. He spun me, nothing but carefully controlled restraint in his eyes.

“You’re overdressed.” I popped open the top button of his shirt and moved to the next one. I did them all in seconds and yanked on the material to free it from his belted pants.

His body was rock solid, packed tight with muscle that just begged me to touch it. I glided my fingers over his enviable stomach lazily, teasing him back the way he had when he undid my dress.

I could take it. I didn’t think he could. He wasn’t great at patience, after all.

I used that to my advantage, exploring his body entirely at my leisure. From his hard chest to the tempting ‘v’ that curved over his hips and disappeared beneath his pants, pointing right at the hard bulge against the zipper. I even brushed my baby finger over his cock once or twice before I finally grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his shoulders.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Damien’s tone was deep and guttural, so husky that my heart thumped at the frustration in his voice.

He yanked himself away from me.

Ripped off his shirt.

Threw it down.

Grabbed me around the waist. Threw me back onto the bed. Pounced on me.

Immediately fisting my hair, he leaned over me and kissed me. He didn’t mess around this time. His tongue found mine in an instant, the ferocity of his kiss wiping all thoughts from my head and replacing it all with him.

With how his toned body burned against mine.

With how my scalp stung from his tight grip.

With how my fingers dragged over his skin, my nails lightly scratching him.

There was nothing but Damien and the lust that pooled between my legs, making my clit ache.

He tugged my head back and kissed down my neck, his cock pressed between my legs. I gasped when he shifted, pressing harder against my clit. Relief washed over me when he released my hair to undo my bra, but within seconds, he had his mouth over my nipple.

Nibble, suck, graze, lick—he alternated between mild pain and wild pleasure. I wanted more and wanted him to stop. It was a crazy sensation, needing to get both closer and further away at the same time. It didn’t stop as he turned his attention to my other breast where he did the same thing until I whimpered.

Pain? Pleasure? I didn’t know.

He leaned back up over me, kissing me again. The light smattering of hair over his chest rubbed against my tender nipples, and he flexed his hips, once again teasing my clit with his cock. I reached between us, desperately trying to get hold of his belt, and felt his grin against my lips when I finally made contact with the cold metal of the buckle.

He laughed quietly into my neck.

“You’re wearing too many pants,” I murmured, breathless from the kiss.

He laughed a little louder and got up. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he undid the buckle, then the button, then the zipper. My mouth went dry as he bent over and pulled off his pants, but that was because he didn’t stop there.

He pulled his boxer briefs off, too.

I took a deep breath in as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and gently stroked it. He kept his hand there as he opened a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a condom. He kept it there as he climbed back up onto the bed, positioning his body over mine, between my legs, and kissed me again. The corner of the foil packet tickled my hair, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself up to kiss him deeper

Using his legs to open mine further, he released his cock and brushed his thumb over my thong. My clit throbbed beneath the light touch, and I gasped when he moved my underwear to the side and pushed one finger inside me. I was already wet—wet enough to take him, and that was all I wanted to do. I didn’t want to mess around with foreplay any longer.


Tags: Emma Hart Vegas Nights Billionaire Romance