Page 34 of Beauty and the Billionaire

The door slowly closed behind my back.

Dominic dropped his gaze down my body. I had showered before bed, then tossed and turned restlessly for what had felt like an eternity before resolving I wouldn’t just stare at the ceiling and wait for something to happen. Then, I did all that was necessary, just like I’d read about it, and paced my room until I fooled myself that I had the strength to try this.

“Zain, this is…”

“Don’t talk,” I whispered pleadingly. “Don’t let words get in the way of it.”

He snapped his mouth shut and gazed at me. That look, right there, couldn’t have been anything but the thing I needed the most. It couldn’t be mistaken for another. He wanted it. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and whatever idea was holding him back was nothing more than that—an idea. His voice was pitched lower now, but I found it much more respectful and less condescending. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t question it,” I said, breathing in against the pressure that squeezed my chest tight.

There was only one more moment of utter silence and hesitation. It was like he waited for some invisible wall between us to fall. And when it did, Dominic’s piercing blue gaze struck me directly into my eyes, and he made the single step that closed the distance between us.

Suddenly, my back was pressed against the tall, dark wooden door of his bedroom, and his torso pinned me in place. The weight of his body leaned on me, trapping me in that irresistible, devastating spot I never wanted to leave.

When I lifted my head defiantly, Dominic descended on me. His lips found mine, and the minty freshness of his breath surprised me when I expected the whiskey smokiness. The kiss, my first, was a fierce and incredible thing. It felt like standing on the highest skyscraper in the city—perhaps this very building—with no guardrails and no protection, leaning over the edge, letting yourself be pulled by gravity, and discovering you had wings. It was a danger that met beauty. It was the impossible, manifesting itself as real and attainable.

His beard and mustache seared my soft and tender skin, inviting me to push myself to the tips of my toes and press my lips against his. Harder, hungrier, faster. I kissed him, although I couldn’t have been very good at it, and let the pain of impact melt into warmth. White-hot lust filled my body as I kissed him again, breathing out against his lips, pulling back, and opening my eyes to look at him.

A wary expression came to my face, and I couldn’t smooth it out. Was this the moment? Would he stop me now?

“No words,” he whispered, recalling my request, turning it over in his mind, and deciding to obey it. He leaned down again, kissing me softly, his hand touching the back of my head.

Some wonderful god or the universe itself had made these two fit so well that it left me in awe. His hand on the back of my head felt as though it had been sculpted for that particular purpose. It was like the atoms had boiled in the singularity, and the entire creation burst to life with this as its single goal—this touch, this moment, this exact instant in the eternity of time.

When a sob broke out of me, I didn’t know if I was crying or laughing or something else entirely. So much was locked up in a dusty old box under a clutter of self-made distractions. So much yearning and so many desires broke the locks and escaped into the light of day. They were here, between us, and they led my body when my mind couldn’t find itself.

My hands reached for Dominic’s sculpted biceps, now bare for me to touch, to feel, to remember. The heat of his flesh wrapped around me, held me like it wanted to welcome me and tell me it was alright.

When he leaned against me a little harder, another sound dragged from my throat, but it wasn’t a sob dripping with conflicting emotions. It was a moan, naked and shameless, and it made Dominic shudder all over.

I moved my hands over, feeling his broad, round shoulders and moving lower to touch his torso. The sudden freedom to explore his body put me in the mind of a sailor embarking on an exciting and promising journey into the unknown, with nothing but eagerness and curiosity that needed to be satisfied.

Tension strained his muscles. His skin, slightly damp from a recent shower, was hot and tight over the hills and valleys of his body. When my hands reached the small of his back, Dominic thrust his hips forward, and I felt the unmistakable bulge in his underwear pressing against my lower abdomen.

The frustration with layers of clothes still separating us was so sudden that it felt like lightning striking me right into my heart. It made me tense, and Dominic immediately pulled away.

I’d ruined it. I’d pushed him away somehow.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

I caught my breath, my chest rising and falling as quickly as Dominic’s. “Kiss me again,” I said.

He stepped toward me, putting his hands on my hips, and closed his eyes reluctantly. When he opened them, the look he gave me was clear and sharp. “You have to tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” I said.

“Zain, you have to,” he insisted. “Promise me you will. If it becomes too much.”

I’d imagined that talking, even a little, would ruin the spell of it all. Like at the club, when the music had been too loud to let usspeak and only our bodies could communicate, everything had been so much simpler. When you couldn’t express complicated thoughts, all you had left were your basic desires. My body could tell him what I wanted, what I needed, without confusion and ethics and age differences.

But this…

This was not what I’d thought it would be. It didn’t ruin anything. In fact, his need to make me feel safe only made me want him more.

“I promise,” I said, knowing it wasn’t empty.

Dominic kissed me urgently then. He hungered for it just the same as me, and he kissed me like his life depended on doing it right.

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