The Billionaire's Fake Fiancee - Lauren Wood Page 0,27

Sparking my eyes up at him, I swirled my tongue around the tip and delighted in the way he clenched up and hissed.

I stretched my lips around his girth, sliding him between them and my tongue until I had taken him in from top to bottom and back again. He grunted and moaned as I took him into my mouth in long, slow movements, letting him settle into the back of my throat before I pulled him out again. I kept my hand wrapped around the base, following each movement with a slick stroke. Just to show him who he was messing with, because I had a feeling he didn’t know yet, I reached up with my other hand and cupped his balls with just the right amount of pressure.

All the moving parts worked together until he was twitching in my mouth and threatening to explode.

But he clenched his fingers into my hair and pulled me back, groaning, “I need to be inside of you.”

He scooped me up into his arms and carried me off into the bedroom, tossing me down onto the bed. His body moved over mine until our lips reunited, while he used one hand to guide himself inside of me.

I was caught off guard by the way he stared into my eyes between our urgent, breathless kisses and moans. It was intimate and alarming. The only thing that frightened me more was when he slowed his rhythm and interlaced his fingers with mine. I wanted to question him. Wasn’t that too tender for what this really was? This was just sex …

But I was captivated by his stare and his touch, and each thrust inside only made me clam up even more. At least as far as any of my concerns went. Primal cries of pleasure dripped from my lips like they were nothing, and the sounds he answered with were sweet and intoxicating.

“Oh, Ben,” I gasped as my second orgasm started to build.

“Kate,” he murmured softly, burying his face between my neck and hair.

I hated our awareness of each other. That we acknowledged we weren’t just two random bodies getting off on each other. But I loved it at the same time, eating it up as it intensified the rolling pleasure that coursed through my body.

Our voices broke as our bodies slowed and tensed, both of us shuttering as he spilled out inside of me. And by the time it was through, neither of us seemed to be able to move or speak for the longest time.

Finally, after we had somewhat caught our breath, he lifted his head and kissed me softly. “I’m glad you called me back over,” he whispered with a gentle laugh.

“Believe it or not, so am I,” I admitted, and it was true. I figured the regret wouldn’t settle in until tomorrow morning. The task at hand was to mitigate that damage as much as possible.

I rolled out from under him and went to my dresser to pull out some pajamas. I picked some boy-briefs and my favorite t-shirt - the least sexy thing I could think of.

“Listen,” I said as I bent over to slide my legs into the shorts. “I know you stayed here last time and all, but maybe that isn’t such a good idea this time.”

“Why not?” he asked, stretching out in my bed. He certainly didn’t look like he planned on going anywhere.

“Uh, because I have an early meeting tomorrow,” I told him, not sounding as convincing as I meant to.

“I see.” His eyes dropped for a moment. “Well, you see … the problem is … my clothes are all wet. Remember?”

“Oh,” I blushed. “I can toss them into the dryer for you.”

“That works. Then … I guess once they’re dry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

I was groaning inside, wondering why the hell he had to try and guilt trip me! Shouldn’t he have been the one itching to get away from me? He had already gotten what he wanted. I submitted to trying to think of something I could offer to make things less awkward, and to relieve my guilt … no matter how uncalled-for it might have been.

“But you know … as long as you’re here and waiting for your stuff to dry … I guess we could watch a movie together or something. If you want,” I proposed.

His face lit up. “Now we’re talking. As long as it’s not some rom-com bull shit.”

“Hey, not all rom-coms are created equal,” I argued. “They’re not all bad.”

“Really? I’m open to letting you change my mind if you