Page 116 of Most Eligible Billionaire

“I think I’m man enough to knit a tea cozy,” I say. Whatever that is.

She grins. “Oh, you’re man enough to crochet a doily.”

We watch the people in the park and talk about nothing. Doing useless things with her feels more important than the most massive asset takeover.

She complains about me fattening her up, but we nearly finish the pan.

She drains the rest of the tea and straddles my lap, kissing me, her cocoon a tent around us. It’s a slow, lazy kiss. The sunlight behind her tips the edges of her brown hair gold. She feeds me little bits of the last cookie and kisses me some more.

We need to talk about the Vonda situation, but now’s not the time. There’s been enough Vonda today.

She slides the pad of her pointer finger around my lips like she’s memorizing the shape of them. “I like feeding you cookies,” she says.

“That’s convenient,” I say. “Because I like your fingers in my mouth.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

Her gaze turns mischievous. She removes her hand from my lips and trails it down her neck. My heart begins to pound, because I’m also man enough that every ounce of me is focused on the pink and succulent end of the path her fingers are tracing.

Slowly she slides it down her shirt and into the waistband of her blue pants.

I feel her eyes on me, but I can’t tear my gaze from the shape her hand makes in her pants, between her legs.

I watch, mesmerized. It’s so sexy, I just want to flip her over and consume her like wildfire, but I hold back. It’s not what she needs.

She strokes off, thighs rocking above mine. My cock grows hard as granite. Even the weight of her on my lap is hot.

I slide my hand over hers—just lightly, just to be there with her, to feel what she does.

My breath gusts in and out. I can feel my nostrils flaring. I’m starving for her. I need to feel her naked against me, skin to skin, belly to belly, heat to heat.

I tear my eyes up to meet hers, beer-bottle brown, translucent in the daylight.

“Mmm,” she says teasingly, lips curling.

“Vicky.” My voice sounds strangled. Like it might be coming from somewhere else. “Vicky, Vicky, Vicky…”

Slowly, eyes still locked on mine, she draws out her hand, holds up two glistening fingers.

I grip her wrist and my lips are closing over her fingers. She yelps at the speed and violence of my grab. “What are you, a vampire?”

I suck every last bit of her off of them. She tastes sweet and dirty. She’s trembling. Vibrating. I feel it where my skin meets hers.

I run my tongue along the underside of her fingers, giving her the wonderful world of the human tongue and the sparkle in her eyes tell me she’s thinking that, too.

She yanks her hand from my mouth and runs sloppy fingers down my chin and down to my straining dick.

She cups me, squeezing. A shudder thrums through me. I’m about to burst out of my skin for her. I cannot get enough of this woman. I think I never will.

“Carry me,” she says. “Hurry.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I palm her ass cheeks and sweep her up. She locks her arms and legs around me as I whirl her around and walk her in, stopping once at a wall just to press her there and kiss her.

I bring her into the bedroom and lay her down. I unbutton and unzip her, kissing silky soft skin. She wriggles under me, soft limbs in a nest of sheets and clothes and the blanket from the porch.

Her panting has a music to it. A high, shaky note, in and out. Her breath gets shakier when I touch her pussy. She grabs onto my hair, pulling as I do her, as I expertly match the speed she did herself with. She groans and pulls. “I won’t last if you do that!”

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