Page 28 of Her Billion Dollar Groom

“But do you want to finish it?”

“What would finishing it look like, exactly?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

For a second, I panic, but then I realize he’s teasing me. I loop my arms around his waist and lean in to whisper in his ear. “Well, my bedroom is just behind that door. I was thinking maybe you would like to join me in there.”

“That’s kind of forward for the first date, don’t you think?” He waggles both eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “Babe, I think we’ve been on more than one or two dates by now. We’re married.”

“You’re right,” he whispers, then kisses me again.

This time, our lips barely part from each other as we fumble our way through the door and crash land into the bedroom. He’s tentative at first, asking permission to undo the buttons of my dress, hesitating before he touches me, and though his desire to make sure this is what I want is sweet, I need him to start acting.

I need to feel our bodies become one.

As he undresses, I take note of his abs, his pecs. They’re not as well defined as any football player I’ve gone out with, but not invisible, not absent.

He unclasps my bra and throws me onto the bed, leaning down to kiss my nipples. I gasp in delight and surprise, and he blinksup at me. “Is this okay?” he asks, that look of fear written all over his face again.

“If you stop, I’m going to kick you,” I growl, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion than that.

“You’re on birth control, aren’t you?” he asks when he comes up for air.

I frown at that. “Weird that you know that.” I chuckle, suddenly embarrassed. “But yes, I am.”

“I only remember you went to pick up the pills the other day. That’s all. I’m not keeping track of your life like that. I don’t care what you do. Well, I do, but?—”

He’s about to start rambling and ruin the mood, so I cut him off. “It’s sweet how much you pay attention.”

The urge to tell him that he’s the only one who’s ever paid attention to me rears its head, but that’s a conversation I don’t want to have. Not when he’s here in my bed. I want to keep this mood.

So I stop myself from speaking and reach for him, kiss him again, pulling him down beside me so our hips knock against each other and I can feel his hardening length against my thigh. “I need you, Jason,” I say, my voice low with lust. “I need you now.”

“Eliza,” he growls. “Say that again.”

“Fuck me right now,” I demand.

“Your wish is my command,” he says hoarsely, his fingers sliding down our bodies to reach my wetness. He takes a few moments to explore, bringing me closer to the edge of climax before hesinks himself into me and I detach from any sense of space and time.

I clutch at his body, digging my nails into his skin, lost solely in the pleasure of our two bodies against each other, acting on a feeling that’s been brewing for weeks.

Making the most of it while it lasts.

CHAPTER 17

JASON

Any time I’ve imagined making love to Eliza — and I haven’t imagined it that many times, I’m not a complete weirdo — it’s been candlelit and slow, rose petals and romance.

The reality of it is more like flying to the moon and exploding. She has such a passion, a stamina, nothing I had ever imagined of her. She grinds her body against mine like she truly, truly wants me, and brings out a side of me that I didn’t know existed.

I have no idea how much time passed between us falling into her bed and then lying here now, finally, exhausted, her head on my chest, my hands running gently through her hair. Neither of us says a word. There is nothing to say. Our bodies have said it all.

I’m going to dream of her body tonight, of her curves, her soft breasts. The feeling of my fingers clutching at her thighs and the way she smiles when she finds her release. That look on her face is one that brings me true bliss, made better only by the way she giggles after she comes; a raw, joyous giggle. It’s infectious.

I’m going to dream of that for the rest of my life.

“Hey,” I whisper eventually, brushing my lips over her face, breathing in her scent.

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