A moan escaped her as he pushed her onto the bed, then she jerked her hips into the air the minute she was stable, and went to work on her pants. He helped drag them down her legs, not stopping until she was free from trousers and panties. Once naked, she spread her thighs, and God help her, she had no idea what was the matter with her because she slipped her hand between the folds of her pussy and began to caress her clit in front of him.
Right in front of him.
James Arias.
The mogul, the billionaire, the genius whiz kid wild-child was watching her masturbate.
Her thoughts alone had her shuddering against the sheets and that had nothing to do with the pleasure zipping around her nervous system like she was on coke. His eyes were glued to her fingers, and she watched as he pushed his pants further down his hips and began to jack off in front of her.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered beneath his breath, those delicious eyes of his seeming to glow at the sight of her touching herself.
Oh Lord, he was handsome. With his washboard abs, and the exact right amount of chest hair… could the guy be more perfect? And that wasn’t taking into account his cock, which was… perfect.
She was bored of the word ‘perfect’ but it was exactly right.
She shuddered as she let her fingers slide down to her gate, but before she could slip one inside, James was there, his hand like a cuff around her wrist as he stilled her movements.
“Mine,” he growled underneath his breath, and she thought she’d freakin’ melt into the sheets.
Had she ever caused such a reaction in another man?
Hannah didn’t think so.
Heck, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt as highly wrought after sex as she felt now!
Shuddering against the sheets, she watched as he crawled over her, his knees sinking into the bed, making the mattress dip as he grabbed her hips and dragged her into him. Within seconds, his cock was brushing against her pussy, and before she could do little more than gasp out in shock, he was there.
There.
She whimpered as he began to thrust inside her. His thickness filling her in ways she’d never known before. She pushed her weight onto her head as her back reared up. Her hips stayed firmly in his hand as he grabbed a tight hold of her and kept her steady there.
Each inch he forged inside her was a hard-won battle. He was big. Bigger than her other lovers.
She moaned as each perfect thrust staked a claim on a part of her no other had reached, touched.
When he was all the way in, his pelvis pressed tight to her pussy, her hips slowly sank back down to the bed when he stayed there, just resting inside her. His hardness a thick, branding warmth that had her nerves lighting up like a firework display.
She was trembling atop the sheets, quivering like someone left out in the rain for a week. She couldn’t understand her reaction, was confused and bewildered by it, but there was no time to think. To worry. Not even to process.
Because he was moving. His hips thrusting slowly as his eyes claimed hers, not letting her break free from his hold. She was as trapped by his gaze as she was by his body, and she loved it.
Loved it.
This was what she’d been missing. What she’d needed all these months.
Someone who knew what she needed. Who could read her like a book.
Slow, oh, so slow. His movements drove her wild and she curled upward to slide her hands around his waist. The minute she could, she dug her nails into his hips and hissed, “Fuck me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You want me to spank you again, baby girl.”
Though her own flared in response, she spat, “Just try it.”
“Is that a dare?” He bared his teeth, and let rip. He pistoned into her, pulling nearly all the way out until she thought he was about to act on his threat and spank her again, before he thrust back inside.
He tortured her, tormented her, never let her settle into a pace, constantly changing until she felt certain she’d go mad. Short thrusts, long ones, deep, shallow. Never conforming to a rhythm. Never letting her find a happy place.
And then, she found it.