Page 123 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

Rex turns to me once he’s gone. “A squirrel?”

“I’m sorry!” I try to look sorry, but really I’m biting my lip to keep from laughing because, what must Marvin think?

Rex backs me to the wall. “A squirrel?”

I snort.

He grabs my hands and kisses one of my knuckles, and then another one. He leans in near me, and into my ear he whispers, “I should put you over my knee and spank you for that.”

My breath catches. “With your twittering tail?”

“What did you say?” he asks, and in a display of caveman awesomeness, he hoists me up yet again. I scream as he carries me through the computer area to his bedroom, where he throws me down on his bed and crawls over me. “Do you think it’s funny?”

“No!” I protest.

“Liar!” he says. “You think it’s funny.”

“Maybe?”

He starts tickling me, and I’m laughing and screaming under him. Then I make him take off his shirt, and I roll on top of him and cling on to him like a barnacle, not that I’d say that out loud, because I’m getting the feeling that Rex is totally fed up with comparisons to the animal world.

But I’m a barnacle, gripping on to him tightly with my arms and legs, and I’m kissing him, and then I bite onto his lip.

He stills.

I let go and kiss him some more.

And then he’s ripping off my clothes. His movements are frantic. Serious. We’re not playing anymore.

I give in—I can’t help it. I’m burning up, and he is, too—we match like that. I’ve never known I could match with a guy sexually like that. I didn’t even know it was an option.

“Need you in me,” I gust. “Please, let’s do it.”

Instead he looms over me, caging me with his strong arms, breath ragged.

He looks down at me, gaze intense. Unpolished. Real. “I won’t give up. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Heartfelt declarations.” I reach up to his lips and press them together. “Definitedon’t.” I say.

He glares. He grabs my finger.

Playfully, I narrow my eyes, but inside I’m a wreck. I want to beg him to stop tempting me. Stop offering things that will break my heart.

Yes, I’m a coward. But I’m the one who was in that hospital bed after Jacob dumped me. I’m the one who was lying there, totally alone except for the beeping machines. And the nurses in the corner, whispering about me dying of a broken heart.

Rex says nothing more; he lets me keep my fingers on his beautiful lips. Slowly, holding my gaze, he moves his free hand—the free hand that’s not supporting his weight—down to my thigh. One confident hand pushes my leg aside.

I can make him stop talking, but I can’t make us stop connecting, and I can’t stop the feeling between us—this feeling that is so huge, I can barely comprehend it.

He already has a condom on, because this is a man who takes care of things. He’s watching me as he enters me. My heart stutters as he pushes into me, fills me.

He stills when he’s fully seated inside of me. Gray eyes gazing into my soul.

He begins to move. Desperation fills my chest even as my body comes alive, as he gauges my reactions, stokes the feeling higher.

He’s right there when I come. “I got you,” he whispers. And when he comes, it’s deep like an earthquake.

There’s this raw feeling between us afterwards. Like everything between us is washed clean by a strange, beautiful rain. I curl up next to him in the bed one leg slung over his belly.

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