His hands find the hem of my dress, and he looks up at me with a question in his eyes. I lift my hips in answer, and he slides the fabric up. I straighten to pull it over my head, and he sits back as if he could spend all night just admiring the view, although,come on now. He’s a hot billionaire, so women likely throw themselves at him on the daily.
The thought should bother me, but right now I’m too busy being grateful for that experience as his mouth keeps working its magic.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin. “Every inch.”
“Flattery will get you—” I forget the rest of the sentence when his fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear.
“Everywhere?” he finishes for me, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
I grab a fistful of his hair and tug. “Concentrate, you.”
His answering laugh rumbles through me, but when he moves lower, I stop being able to form words. He drags my panties down slowly, but doesn’t rush when I’m bare to him. He parts my legs with a soft pressure that makes my breath hitch, and his hot breath ghosts over my inner thighs before he finally settles his mouth against me.
The first lick is long and agonizingly slow, tracing from bottom to top until I’m clutching the crisp sheets beneath me. He’s meticulous in his attention as he uses his tongue to find a spot that has me devolving into a mess of soft whimpers. I might not be willing to let him kiss my mouth, but he seems satisfied to focus everything on the heat between my legs. He reaches one hand up to find my breasts, deft fingers teasing my nipples while his mouth works its magic lower.
He slides two fingers inside me, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue, and I’m suddenly drowning in the unadulterated sensation of being wanted by a man like Jeremy. My hips buck as if seeking more of that friction, and he growls his approval.
“Tell me what you need.”
My thighs quiver as I gasp for breath. “Need you to stop talking.”
He laughs again, and then his mouth is back on me, his tongue swirling around my clit as his fingers pump in and out. He doesn’t stop, even when the first wave of my orgasm hits like a freight train. He stays right where he is, holding me steady so I feel every single spark of the explosion.
I come with his name on my lips, my fingers tangled in his hair. And when he finally lifts his head, his smug expression should be annoying, but instead makes me want to pull him closer.
“We’re not done, Jer-bear.”
He shakes his head, his smile rueful. “I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning?—”
“I have an IUD, but Jon still used a condom, so I’m good. He didn’t want to take chances or…”
I shake my head and wait for Jeremy to reply, wondering if he’s calculating the risk in the same way he would for a regular business deal.
“I got tested a few months ago,” he says after a long moment. “And haven’t been with anyone since.”
My breath, which is just starting to regulate, hitches again. This man, who could have anyone he wants, has been alone instead, worrying about his sister and trying to figure out how to do good in a world that expects the worst from him.
“Then stop talking and fuck me.”
He stands to strip off his clothes, and even though I’ve seen his chest before—glistening with saltwater while I pretended not to stare—this is different. This time I can reach out and trace the defined muscles I’ve been obsessing over for days. Feel the heat of his skin under my palms. There’s a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his pants. I want to follow it with my tongue.
And I plan to.
As soon as he’s naked, I draw him closer then push him to his back on the bed. He groans when my mouth finds his hip bone, and I feel a surge of power that has nothing to do with money or status or the bullshit games I’m used to playing. It’s just me and him, like this moment is the only thing in the world that matters.
I move lower, tracing my tongue along that thick cock before Ifinally take him into my mouth. The sound he makes—a low, guttural vibration I feel everywhere—sends a thrill straight to my core. I work him with a deliberate rhythm, my hands gripping his thighs as he tangles his fingers in my hair. For a heartbeat, I want to raise up and fuse my mouth to his—taste myself on his lips—but I catch the urge and bury it.
“Fuck, Avah,” he whispers, his voice ragged. “If you keep that up, we’re not going to get to the main show.”
“I like this show,” I counter, but he laughs and lifts me by my arms until I’m straddling him.
Then he flips me over, cradling my face like he can’t stop holding on. When he finally slides into my heat, it’s everything I knew it would be. His cock stretches me, but instead of being uncomfortable, it feels like coming home. His eyes search mine as he waits for me to adjust, then he lowers his head until there’s nothing but a whispered breath between our mouths.
“No kissing.” The words were easy when I first spoke them, but they feel wrong now. I want his mouth on mine, but I tighten my grip on his shoulders instead. If I let him kiss me, my walls are bound to disintegrate. I won’t know where I end and he begins. I need this rule to keep myself grounded while he’s taking me apart.
His movements are deliberate and rhythmic at first, his forehead pressed against mine. It feels more intimate than any kiss I’ve ever had as he fills all the empty spaces inside me. Each time he pulls out is slow torture, but the sensation of him pushing back in is a revelation.
My nails dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders as our pace increases, the intensity of the grinding heat building in the base of my spine.
