Page 105 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

I’m trembling. I can’t believe he spanked me! It’s embarrassing and totally exciting, all at once. “You’re a bad client,” I say.

He slaps my ass again.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. He smooths his hand over my skin. The back-and-forth between sting and softness makes my nerve endings tremble and swoon. “You are my worst client!”

He slaps my ass even harder.

“Okay, okay!” Every molecule on my skin is alive, afire. I press my face into the chair.

“You think you get to say when this stops?” he asks, skimming gentle fingers over my ass. It’s a barely-there touch, but it sizzles, sending ripples of heat through me. My sex aches for him.

He reaches around to my pussy just then, stroking, caressing. I melt a little more with his every stroke.

“Do you?”

There’s a question there, but I don’t care. My thoughts have disintegrated into the pleasure of his touch. “More,” I say. “More.”

“More what?”

“More…just you.”

Time suspends in the vulnerable truth of that. For a moment, it’s just the two of us, alone in the spinning world.

He leans over me, sheltering me with his body. Warm lips press onto my shoulder blade. “I gotcha, baby.”

I feel his thick crown nudging at my entrance, probing. His breath is rough in my ear. I need him so bad I feel crazed.

“Theo, yes.”

He presses in slowly, filling me, owning me, thick and heavy inside me. He pushes in, all the way deep. He stills, and it’s like the earth stills. He runs his hands up and down my hips, a small electric contact. “This,” he says, beginning to pulse into me. “This.”

“So good,” I mumble. I reach between my legs and stroke myself while he pushes into me, seeming to swell inside me.

He groans. “Babe, you should’ve warned me you were going to do that—it’s so hot, I almost lost it.”

I rub my clit even more dramatically while he fucks me. He says nonsensical guy things where his tone matters way more than his words.

We lose it pretty fast, orgasming almost together, and then we fall into bed, shaky and excited. I want to tell him he’s my favorite guy I ever had by miles. And I think he wants to say it, too, but we’re fuck buddies only, and I’m on my way out of the city, so we just sprawl there.

Afterward, we take a shower and have sex again. Then we put on the hotel bathrobes and collapse on the bed. I snuggle into the pit of his arm.

“This is way hotter than what I imagined,” he says, brushing the hair from my forehead with the pad of his thumb.

“Me, too.” Hotness is safe territory. Fuck buddy territory. “Though I still haven’t gotten my lab-coat fuck.”

He knits his fingers into mine.

“Tell me more of yours,” I say. “Of what you imagined us doing.”

He’s silent a bit, like maybe he doesn’t want to tell. He pulls our joined hands to his mouth and presses his lips to my knuckle.

I feel like I could get used to this. Probably not the best thing.

“You drive me so crazy with those calls,” he says, “tormenting me. I spend all this time at my desk looking at the data, but all I can see is your pussy spread before me, and it drives me crazy, and I can’t concentrate on my lifesaving formula.”

“If people complain, tell them, ‘Buzz off, I was thinking about pussy.’”

He snorts and kisses another knuckle. “And I come and find you. You’re laughing.”

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