Billion Dollar Stranger - Stephanie Brother Page 0,9

watches. My nipples are so hard they make my small breasts look round and high.

He slips off his shirt, and I marvel at his physique. Toned shoulders and chest meet a firm stomach, and lines of muscle at the sides point in a V down to where his cock is now very obviously hard. I’ve never seen such a beautiful body in the flesh, just in magazines and on the front of my favorite sexy romance books. My hands itch to touch, but he’s a stranger, and it seems as though he wants to lead what is happening between us. In a way, I’m happy to follow because, honestly, I’ve lost my confidence since discovering what Jonathan had been up to on the side. It’s hard to feel sexy when you find out your boyfriend’s gone looking for sex elsewhere.

Was I not enough for him? The thought makes me hesitate.

“Your skirt,” he says, as he sits on the edge of the bed to slip off his shoes and socks and unbuckle his belt. I unzip but hold the waistband for a couple of seconds before leaving it to fall around my ankles. Stepping out of it takes courage. All of this takes courage that I didn’t think I possessed. It feels as though I’m casting off my old self and leaving behind her restrictions and inhibitions.

And then I’m standing in front of him naked, feeling more vulnerable and aroused than I’ve ever been. I know nothing about this man other than what I can see, and he has such control over my mind and body that I feel like a yoyo dangling from his finger; one tug is all it would take to hold me in his palm. He reaches for me with one hand, grasping my hip and pulling me until I’m close enough for him to kiss my belly. His tongue licks across my skin, leaving a hot and then cold trail as it passes, a delicious and maddening sensation.

I run my fingers through his hair, needing the contact with him to steady me, and I groan as his hands squeeze my ass. With a quick movement, he stands and pushes me around him, so I fall backward onto the bed. He grabs my ankles to spread my legs so he can crawl up between them. Kneeling, he looks at me lying open and ready for him before he bends his head to kiss the inside of my thighs.

I can feel his hot breath moving closer and closer to where I want him to be, his stubble grazing my leg sends shivers through me. When he finally reaches my pussy, he gently kisses my clit and inhales deeply. “I love the way you smell,” he breathes against me, and my hips buck to meet his mouth. He pulls back and uses his fingers to spread my labia gently. Seconds tick by, and he does nothing but watches as my clit swells, seeking his tongue, the press of his fingers, anything to give it relief. “I can see how much you want this,” he says, stroking downward until his fingers are coated in my arousal. “I can see how turned on you are by the idea of fucking a stranger.” His eyes meet mine with a spark of electricity. “You haven’t even asked my name, have you? You like this anonymous, so you can give in to whatever you want without feeling anything tomorrow. You want me to control you so you won’t feel any guilt about opening your legs for a man who you might not recognize in the street next week.”

“No,” I say, ashamed of the truth of his words, trying to pull my legs together. He holds them firmly open, the control he spoke about more arousing that it should be.

“Yes,” he says, slipping a finger just inside my opening and holding it there. My pussy flutters around it as though it wants to draw him inside, and he smiles. “Your pussy says yes.”

He pushes another finger in just an inch and then turns them, pressing upward. It feels so good that my clit burns from lack of stimulation in the cold, conditioned air. I put down my hand to press on it to relieve some of the pressure, but he pushes it away.

“You want me in control,” he says, grinning wickedly. “You want me to decide when you get to come. You want me to make you.” He snatches his tie from the bed and