Page 30 of Fixer for the Billionaire

He inches nearer, our bodies almost merging. "So don't tell me I don’t know you, Sanchez. Because I do." His breath fans over me, stirring memories and desires I thought I'd locked away.

My breath catches in my throat as his words wash over me, stirring up memories and desires that I thought I had buried long ago.

His lips brush against mine in a feather-light touch that sends goosebumps down my body. "And I also know that even when you hate me, even when I annoy the ever-loving crap out of you, there's a part of you that still wants me. That still remembers what we did on that company retreat three years ago. How it felt to have my mouth between your legs."

The air between us crackles, filled with unsaid words and stifled desires. He whispers, lips barely touching mine, reigniting every buried feeling.

"I know all this because I can't forget. Every time I’m near you, it’s not just anger I feel, but something more. Something that says this tension between us is because I can’t goddamned stay away.”

Hearing him admit it unravels something inside me—a mix of longing and frustration that's been simmering.

I let out a shaky breath as Quentin's soft, minty breath tickles my lips before he presses them against mine. My heart races, and I exhale shakily as his kiss deepens, my arms winding around his neck. We lose ourselves to the moment, our movements speaking volumes.

No more words needed. Our bodies say everything all at once.

Quentin's right. He's right about it all.

Even when I do hate him, even when he drives me up a wall and makes me question my own sanity, there's a part of me that yearns for him. A part of me that can't resist the pull he has over me.

The heat between us explodes, our connection undeniable, each touch sparking electric currents.

I lose myself in the moment. In Quentin. Especially when he places a trail of kisses down my neck, igniting a fire that spreads through every inch of my skin.

Before I can register what's happening, he drops to his knees and pulls me towards him, his lips leaving a trail of fire down my stomach. My breath hitches as he reaches his destination, a moan I don’t expect leaving my mouth.

Piercing green eyes stare up at me, a hungry glint flashing in them as Quentin lifts the red satin and sequins of my dress.

He stops.

"I'll only keep going if you want me to." An exhale. "Do you want me to, Carmina?"

My heart's racing as I try to collect my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I nod, unable to even find the will to speak. He smirks, his hands wandering up my thigh, sending shivers down my spine.

"Good girl," he whispers, his breath warming places it shouldn't.

He looks up, fingers hooked over my lacy black underwear, sliding them down with a practiced ease. And when he takes me in his mouth, my mind blanks out.

It feels like being hit by lightning – intense, overwhelming. It's hot, blinding, and completely shatters my composure. I've never felt more alive.

Alive because Quentin Anderson is thorough in everything he does. He's thorough at aggravating me. He's thorough at driving me insane.

But most of all, he's thorough at eating me to within an inch of my life.

There is no inch of my pussy he doesn't cover, doesn't appreciate.

He licks and kisses it all, moving his mouth in circles and figure-eights that leave my heart dancing on my tongue. And between each touch, brush, and stroke, he talks to me, uttering unspeakable things that have me soaking my thighs.

Soaking his lips. Soaking his face.

"You're irresistible, Carmina. A damn treat."

"I could keep this up for hours, days even."

"Hook your leg over my shoulder. Yeah, just like that. Let me see you."

I do as he says, letting go of the need to always be strong, dependable, a locked box of unspoken desires.

My fingers tangle in his hair, especially when he pauses to say, "Damn, you're wet. Give me what I want, Carmina. Come like you've never come before."

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