Billion Dollar Fiance 41
His fingers find my clit, like he’s touched me hundreds of times before, and when he starts to lightly circle…
I turn my head against his shoulder to muffle the moan that escapes me. This is torture, death by a thousand faint touches, and yet I never want him to stop.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” he mutters. “And I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t wait?” The deep rumble of his voice through his chest is right below my ear. “I’m damn tempted not to, but we didn’t go thirty years without having sex to finish within fifteen minutes.”
“You’re the one who assured me they don’t rent rooms by the hour here.” I slide my hand underneath his boxers, fighting against the tightly stretched fabric to wrap my fingers around him. He’s hot to the touch, and so hard it has to hurt. “Can’t we play all night?”
“More like all week,” he mutters, moving out of my reach. My protest dies as I watch him kneel between my splayed legs.
He shakes his head as he stares down at me. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. It’s unreal.”
I grin at him. “I’m already on my back and in your bed, Liam. You don’t have to keep seducing me.”
“I won’t stop,” he vows, hands gripping hold of my panties. I lift my hips so he can slide them off me. “You’re getting the full experience.”
“The VIP package?”
“With backstage passes and everything,” he confirms, settling in between my legs. His eyes give me one final look, dark on mine. “Remember-you tell me what you like and what you don’t.”
“You bet.” But my next sentence, the one about how much I liked his finger inside of me, dies on my tongue the second his touches me. And perhaps I haven’t really been touched like this before, this slow, teasing flow of his tongue mixed with fast kisses and skilled fingers.
There are no pointers to give. He knows this better than I do, because I touch myself with fingers, never tongues. And when he closes his lips over the apex of my thighs and flicks his tongue back and forth…
I come with my hand buried in his hair and my eyes locked on the ceiling. My orgasm is strengthened by the sheer shock sweeping through me and the satisfied grunts from between my legs.
“Knew you’d come,” he says, the soft-sharp stubble of his skin against my inner thigh.
I take a few moments to catch my breath.
“Do you know what?” I ask, looking down at the deep-green eyes regarding me with masculine pride. “I know you’re going to come as well.”
He grins. “You might be right about that.”
“Shocking.”
He lifts himself up on arms taut with muscle, and I watch him without shame-watch as he pulls down his boxers and the length of him springs free.
My mouth waters at the sight.
He reaches for something in the pocket of his jacket. “Keep looking at me like that,” he tells me, “and I think I’ll-shit. Fuck, that feels good.”
I can’t answer him, because my mouth is occupied. But I can look up at him, at the way his eyes are half-hooded with pleasure.
Power has its own rewards-the power to please, power to control, power to tease. My stomach tenses with the realization that I have power here, over him. And that just like he had known what to do without me telling him, I don’t need pointers here.
Not when the swirl of my tongue around the head of him makes his hips thrust. And not when his fingers twine in my hair, his breath quickening.
“Maddie,” he says.
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“Maddie.”
I might as well not have heard him.
Liam pushes against my shoulders and I fall back on the bed, grinning. “I was having fun with that.”
“So was I… too much fun.” He flips me over, pulls me to the edge of the bed-bent over for him. The sound of foil ripping goes off like a cannon inside my mind, my insides aching.
I wiggle my ass. “Please. I need-”
The rest of my words are stolen as he pushes inside. I grip the sheets and breathe through the intensity.
I’d forgotten how deep sex can be-how far inside you a man can reach.
Liam’s hands grip my hips. “Perfect handhold,” he murmurs, like he’s just confirmed something to himself. And then he pushes into me again, slow, deliberate strokes that make it clear he’s warming me up.
I look over my shoulder. He’s watching where we join, and the sight of his face-of the features locked in primal satisfaction-makes my body go boneless.
God, but it feels good to be wanted, to be touched, to be had like this.
It feels even better when his hands move over my skin like he can’t stop touching me, like he doesn’t know where to rest his hands. It’s not long until the room is filled with the sound of us.
I hope Cole soundproofed these rooms.
Liam pulls out of me without any warning. “On your back,” he orders, reaching for one of the pillows.
I lift my hips up so he can tuck it beneath me. My legs are braced against him, feet on either side of his head.
“You really don’t like missionary, do you?”
He snorts. “I’m aiming for better than interesting sex here, Maddie, without pushing the boundaries too far.”
We both watch as he lines himself up and pushes in, inch after inch disappearing inside me.
“You’re succeeding.”
His eyes are dark as they shift from my face to my body, down to where we’re joined. Mine trail him just the same-his muscles flexing as he barrels into me.
“How,” another moan, “did you,” a gasp, “get so,” help me, “in shape?”
Liam raises an eyebrow. “How did you learn how to squeeze a man half to death?”
He reaches for my left hand, fingers pausing briefly around my engagement ring. “Here,” he says, placing my hand between my legs. My middle finger just barely grazes his cock on its way in and out of me. “Show me how you work your clit.”