Page 70 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“Then you’d be correct,” I whisper, right before I press my lips to hers.

Chapter 11

Tabitha

I’m dying.

He has me trapped against the wall, and he’s kissing my lips, then my neck, and I’m dying. I’m melting. I’m happy, panting putty in his wickedly roaming hands.

He traps me harder, and I’m pulling at his shirt and meeting him halfway in a manner that might best be described asgrinding back atcha.

He pulls back to look at my face. I should be scared of the stormy look in his eyes, the way he seems to be losing control again, but I love him like this, unspooling just for me.

I lick my lips. His eyes follow the motion of my tongue, which just makes everything hotter. I love that I can do this to him.

He grumbles and slides a hand over my hip and around to my ass, which he clutches through terrycloth.

“Captain Sternpants,” I whisper, “are you gettingthickwith me?”

“Very,” he snarls against my skin.

Butterflies go wild in my belly.

I should know better than to give in to the crazy chemistry that we have, but right now, I’m telling myself it’s okay to do casual sex with him. I do friends with benefits all the time, right?

Except I’m not head over heels for my friends-with-benefits friends. Still, I tell myself that this’ll be okay.

Anyway, I can’t stop kissing him. I can’t stop stroking his beard and mauling his shoulders. I can’t stop meeting him halfway with my pelvis. Feverishly, I start to unbutton his shirt.

“No, no, no,” he breathes, and suddenly he has my wrists. He lifts my hands above my head and presses them against the wall with just one hand.

“I don’t get to unbutton your shirt, but you get to disrobe me?”

“That’s how I like it.”

“You keep your clothes on? Oh my god, control freak much?” But I like it, too.

Umm…a lot.

With his free hand, he yanks open the ties of my robe, just yanks them apart with way more brutish force than necessary, but it’s just the right amount of brutish force to overload me with lust. The boat seems to be tilting. Are the seas swelling? Have extra seamen come aboard?

He still has that stern scowl, acting all in control, but the rough in-and-out saw of his breath says otherwise.

The cool air of the room caresses my bare flesh, my damp suit, even as heat blooms up my core.

He slides his hand down over my breasts, my belly, my crotch, all the way down my thighs and then around to my ass. “This fucking ass,” he growls, taking a handful and giving it a squeeze.

The squeeze does something amazing to my clit. Then he pushes his hand up the inside of my suit and makes contact with my bare ass skin.

I press into him, nipping his earlobe. Suddenly his wicked fingers are on the move again, heading back up to my breasts.

I swallow. “Wait.”

He stills. “What?”

“Go back down again,” I say. “With your hand.”

“Are you telling Captain Sternpants what to do?”

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