Page 19 of The Billionaire's Naughty List

"More than anything," I admit.

I sink the fingers of my left hand into Elliot's hair and curl my right over his shoulder, clamping myself to him. He's not getting away again.

He ducks his head, licking and nipping my neck.

"Anything?" he purrs.

He’s going to be the death of me.

It's been a good life. I don't mind dying happy and sated, glowing from orgasms.

Not only do I love—all capital letters, L-O-V-E—love the idea of being naked in his bed every day, my soul feels calm and whole. For maybe the first time ever, every element of my life feels right. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and with the person I’m destined to be with.

I answer his question with a nod, so happy I could explode.

Then he reaches between us, swiping his dick back and forth in my wetness, coating himself. I urge him on with my heels, needing this final bit of connection. He pauses, holding steady as a curse tumbles from his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

He drops his head next to mine. “What’s wrong is I’m not even inside you yet and you already feel like utopia.”

I run a hand down his back, a husky laugh bubbling up my throat. “That’s not so bad.”

There’s a pause. He inhales like he has terrible news to share. I hold my breath.

“I don’t have condoms,” he says.

Oh. Right.

“I’m clean,” I say. “I haven’t been with anyone since?—”

He kisses me. Hard.

When he lifts his head, he grinds out a handful of words. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Smirking, I press a quick kiss against his lips. “I’m protected.”

“I don’t know whether to love or hate that.”

“Oh?” I quip.

“I haven’t been with anyone since my physical a year ago.”

I tighten my legs, pulling him deeper. His brow furrows and when he's finally in, stretching me wide, hips pressed so tightly to mine, we both exhale what can only be a sigh of relief. I've wanted him for so long. Didn't think it'd ever happen. Had given up.

But here we are, with his arms bracketed around me, and my arms and legs wrapped around him like a human pretzel. He lifts his head, staring down at me as he pulls his hips back.

I adore that we communicate without words. It's almost like we read each other's mind.

He bottoms out again and my head tips back as he reaches the most delicious spot inside me. Over and over, he teases that special spot, driving and grinding his cock inside me as if fucking me is his life’s purpose.

He pulls out and sits back on his heels, the most indecent sight. “Roll over, kitten.”

I do his bidding, getting on all fours. My muscles feel like gelatin.

He shoves a pillow beneath my hips, then trails his hands over my ass. I’m utterly exposed in this position. But there’s no time to second guess or feel shy. He’s on me like a proud lion, covering my body with his. Wrapping an arm around my middle, he holds me up and pulls me back against his lap. I rotate my hips, rubbing against his erection.

He groans, then nips my shoulder. “And all this time, I thought you were innocent.”

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