Page 89 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

He backs me toward the dock’s splintered ladder, bumping my spine on every rung, and I crush my mouth to his, biting back laughter and hunger and the odd desperate urge to cry.

He seems to know, or maybe he doesn’t care, because he hikes me up onto the lowest step, my thighs braced on algae-slick wood and kisses a wet path down my ribs and over the wet, quivering skin of my belly.

“Don’t fall,” he says, but it comes out hoarse and hungry, his breath hot against my navel.

I brace myself and lean into him.

“Don’t plan on it.” I dig my heels into his hips, demanding, and he delivers.

Hands spanning my thighs, fingers leaving perfect imprints, tactile proof that I’m here and this is real. We’re both incredibly naked in this lake water, and that’s insane.

Xander keeps me flat against the ladder, hands grinding into my hips, his mouth worshipping its way up and down my soaked, shivering body.

My nipples ache, pebbling hard and sensitive under the humid night air. He kisses the space right beneath, then clamps his mouth around one, tongue swirling, teeth scraping, and I whimper so loud it feels obscene.

He bites down, gentle but hungry, and I arch into him, the wood behind me scraping my back. The cold is gone now, replaced by a feverish heat that suffuses my whole body.

Goosebumps prickle, then fade under each pass of his tongue.

I want to devour him. I want to drown with him. I want to see what happens if we never come up for breath.

His mouth trails south again, sucking a zig-zag path down my belly, tasting me like I’m delicious. My pulse throbs for him, and he’s making me wait for it, which is killing me.

“Fuck me, Xander,” I moan. “Stop teasing me, will you?”

He grins, wicked, all eyes and teeth. “You want more, huh?”

He bites down, a smirk in every line of his jaw, and I realize I’ve pushed a button and whatever happens next is entirely my fault.

He spreads my thighs, water sluicing off my skin, and lowers his face, like he’s savoring the view. He doesn’t even hesitate. His tongue is on me, hot and confident, and I’m helpless to resist.

I claw at the ladder, the wood numb in my fists, while Xander eats me like he’s dying of hunger and I’m the only thing that will satiate him.

My hips jerk.

He tightens his grip, pinning me open with one hand while the other teases, first gentle, then rough, then gentle again, keeping me off balance, keeping me gasping.

No one’s ever done this to me, not like this, with such obsession. He’s relentless, expert, sometimes slow, sometimes brutal, never letting me find a beat to get used to, and I’m gasping, yelping, so fucking loud anyone for half a mile could track us by sound alone.

My thighs threaten to snap his head off, but he just fucks me with his mouth harder, lips and tongue tangling like he’s playing my body for an audience of thousands.

He rakes his teeth so close to my clit that I see stars behind my eyelids, and I swear I pulse so hard I hear it echo in my skull.

I’m not sure if I come once or twice or if it’s just one long, drawn-out, full-body convulsion, my entire self wringing out like a wet towel, but I scream my throat raw, shuddering so hard I nearly lose my grip on the ladder.

He comes up grinning, eyes wild. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand but leaves the rest of me slick, shaking, ruined.

“You’re louder than I expected,” he says. “I like it.”

I thump his shoulder with a fist, still panting, then drag him up for a kiss, tasting myself on his tongue, not caring, wanting more. My whole body buzzes, overloaded, but somehow hungry again.

He claims my mouth, biting at my lip, like he’s marking a kill. I wrap myself around him, knees clamped at his hips, grind against him, hard and urgent, and it’s like we’re the only two animals left alive.

I dig my nails into his back, knowing I’ll leave marks. He grins, full of pride, and pushes me up onto the top rung of the ladder and then right up onto the dock, where we collapse in a pile of wet limbs and shivery giggles.

The planks scrape against my back, rough with old splinters and the damp stink of algae, but I hook my legs around Xander anyway, almost delirious from what he’s just done to me. He grinds against me, his cock thick and hot and so needy it’s almost comical.

“You’re going to destroy me,” I whisper, half threat, half dare.