One Night With a Billionaire - By VickiLewis Thompson Page 0,23
if you do that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I like it just fine. But you’re going to—” He gasped as she squeezed again. “You’ll make me come.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Eventually.” He withdrew and pushed forward again. “But you’re first on the agenda.”
“Mm.” She executed a little rotating motion with her hips. “Let’s come together.”
“The first time? I don’t know if we can.”
“Let’s try.”
“Okay.” He began to pump slowly. God, that felt amazing, and he was seconds away. He fought the urge. “Talk to me. Tell me when you’re close.”
“Pretty close.” She rose to meet his next thrust. “Oh.” She quivered.
And then he didn’t need her to tell him anything. He knew. They were in perfect sync. He bore down, stroking faster, finding the right angle that made her gasp and tighten around his cock. His orgasm hovered, ready to pounce. There. Right . . . there.
She exploded. Her cries blended with his as he pounded into her quivering body and came . . . and came . . . in a rush of pleasure so intense he lost himself in the tumbling glory of it. Joyfully he abandoned his fate to the woman in his arms. To Melanie.
He’d been right. After this moment, his life would never be the same.
Seven
Melanie woke to the sound of bells. Disoriented, she sat up in a canopy bed draped in burgundy with gold trim. Drew’s bed. A blush covered every inch of her naked body as she remembered . . . all of it.
Maybe jet lag was affecting her perception, but she was pretty sure Drew was the best lover she’d ever had. Thinking about the pleasure they’d shared made her hot all over again. But she was glad he wasn’t here to see her in the unforgiving glare of morning light, because she must look like a mess.
The bells of Notre Dame finished their majestic musical number and began counting the hour with a resonance that sent chills down her spine. She counted along with the bells, because there was no clock in sight. Eleven? She was wasting valuable time!
The rest of the household was awake, naturally. The aroma of cooked food drifted up from downstairs, and her stomach cramped. She’d been starving at three in the morning. She’d moved past that stage to unbearable hunger pangs.
No doubt Drew had instructed his staff to stay off the third floor so she could sleep. She appreciated that, for modesty’s sake. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone bringing up a tray and finding her naked in Drew’s bed.
A polite guest would shower and dress before heading downstairs, but she wasn’t sure she could wait that long to eat. Maybe that hunk of cheese she’d thrown at Drew was still lying in the hall and she could gnaw on that before taking a shower.
When she climbed out of bed to look for her clothes, she found them neatly folded on an upholstered chair, along with a quickly scrawled note.
Pull the cord by your bed in your room and someone will bring you food.
—Drew
She glanced beside Drew’s bed and discovered a tasseled cord hanging there. How Old World. She’d seen such things in movies set in the early part of the twentieth century, but she would have expected Drew to install an intercom. Then again, he was the guy who preferred taking the stairs.
Apparently her room came equipped with the same old-fashioned way of summoning the help, and he was sensitive enough to know that she’d want food brought to her room instead of his. She slipped into her lounge pants and T-shirt.
Glancing at the bed, the scene of their mutual seduction, she smoothed the covers so it wouldn’t look quite so much like hot sex had taken place there a few hours ago. She would have made the bed, but Drew probably didn’t do that, and a made bed would look strange to whoever cleaned his room. Last of all she grabbed her hoodie and the note, which was another piece of incriminating evidence.
She opened the door warily and peered out. The hallway was empty. Scurrying down to her room, she dashed inside and closed the door. Safe.
Too bad she wasn’t sophisticated enough to sashay out of Drew’s bedroom without worrying about being seen. But she was a simple country girl who wasn’t used to having sex with a man she’d known for less than twenty-four hours. The concept still boggled her mind, but the reality had been wonderful. She wasn’t the least bit sorry, but she’d still