Page 52 of Hearts of Wealth

Catherine

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THE BEDROOM WAS DIMLY lit, the soft light from the hallway spilling in through the open door. He led me by the hand, our fingers entwined as he guided me toward his bed.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately, his hands running down my back to rest on my hips. Our bodies were pressed together, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse.

I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his taut abs and broad chest that I knew intimately.

Running my palms over the hard planes of his body, I appreciated the way his muscles flexed beneath my touch. His chest heaved with every breath, a testament to the raw desire that was threatening to consume us both. He reciprocated by undoing the buttons of my blouse, clumsily pulling off the garment and tossing it aside.

He trailed kisses down my neck, causing me to arch into him as he explored each sensitive spot. He stepped back just enough to rid himself of his pants, leaving him standing naked before me. The sight was breathtaking and familiar all at the same time. His body was like a work of art, chiseled and raw, yet soft in places that begged to be touched. I let my gaze wander over him, taking in the sight of his taut muscles and the way they moved beneath his skin.

“You must come from some really good genes,” I said.

I reached out and stroked down his chest, circling his nipples with my fingertips before sliding down to his taut stomach and the trail of hair leading down to his hardness. He shivered under my touch, a groan escaping him as his hands found their way back to my body.

“Why do you say that?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Your body is amazing, but I’ve never seen you work out.”

“Ah, but I do.” He smiled. “Not a lot. But I swim, I run on the treadmill. I put in some work, but yes, some of it is genetics.”

I licked my lips in appreciation. “Well, I for one would like to thank your parents for making such a beautiful man.”

In one swift movement, he pulled me against him, rekindling the fiery connection that thrummed between us. His lips found my neck again, his hot breath against my skin sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. He lifted me effortlessly, our bodies fitting together as he carried me toward the bed. He laid me down gently, his body hovering over mine. Our eyes locked, the air crackling with tension and desire.

His hands roamed my body as he explored every inch of me, each touch sending sparks flying through my nerves. He kissed over my collar bone and down my breasts.

He took a moment to appreciate each breast. His fingers traced down my stomach, stopping at the edge of my thong. In a matter of seconds, he was peeling it down my legs, leaving me as bare as he was. His gaze roved over me, taking in every inch, and I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck to my cheeks.

“There’s no one else like you, Catherine,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw desire. His fingers slid over the inside of my thigh, his touch feather-light yet setting my skin ablaze. “No one else can make me feel like this.”

He leaned down to press a soft kiss against the inside of my thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against my skin and causing a shiver to ripple through me. The way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in the world—was more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol could ever be.

His fingers trailed upward, skimming over the sensitive skin where my thighs met my body. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting straight through me. He took his time, teasing me, building the anticipation until I was writhing beneath him. His mouth followed the path his fingers had traced, placing soft, feather-light kisses on my inner thighs.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against my skin, his hot breath ghosting over my sensitized flesh.

“You,” I whispered, the word spilling from my lips without a second thought.

He chuckled lightly against my skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the already heated atmosphere. “Specifics, Kitcat.”

I let out a soft whimper as his fingers teased the edge of my core, creating a delicious friction that had me biting my lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. “I want your mouth,” I confessed, my voice shaky with desire.

Without a word, he granted my request. He began by planting sweet kisses on my thighs, moving gradually until he was centered between my legs. His breath was hot against my flesh, promising undeniable pleasure. I bit back a gasp as he explored me with his tongue, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I surrendered to the insatiable hunger that his mouth was stoking within me. The room echoed with my stifled moans, each one elicited by the exquisite torture he was inflicting on me with his tongue. His hands held my hips in place as I writhed beneath him, the pressure building with an intensity that was nearly unbearable.

“Timothy,” I moaned, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes!”

He responded with a low hum of satisfaction that sent vibrations spinning through me, heightening my pleasure. His skillful mouth continued its assault, pulling sounds from me that I barely recognized as my own.

The sensation was overwhelming, threatening to consume me whole as I gasped and trembled beneath his touch. There was a tight coiling sensation until I was teetering on the edge of release.

“Let go, Catherine,” he murmured against me, his voice low and filled with anticipation. “I’ve got you.”

His words were enough to send me spiraling over the edge, a cry tearing from my throat as my body convulsed beneath him. The intense waves of pleasure left me clinging to him for support, my breath coming in harsh pants as he continued to coax every last shudder from my body. His fingers danced lightly over my hypersensitive skin, drawing out the blissful aftershocks until I was left completely spent and breathless beneath him.