Page 23 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

I was hesitant with her at first, but grew less so as it turned out my getting-people-off skill set hadn’t irredeemably declined. As for George, she came to pleasure like an old friend, neither at war with it as Caspian was, nor submitting to it like me. I almost envied her in a way—I’d been trying to show myself a good time since I first figured out my penis liked me moving my hand up and down it, but George had an ease in her body that you probably only got from a lot more living than I’d managed so far. Mind you, if I looked like her, I’d probably be easy too.

Don’t get me wrong, I was fine in cute-at-best kind of way and my arse was at least moderately epic. And while she wasn’t a perfect physical specimen like Caspian, George had this rangy sexiness to her, all long, lean limbs and subtle curves. Also I was always up for getting my hands on boobs and George’s werelovely. The silken weight of them pressed against my palms. The rough-smooth texture of her nipples as they tightened against my tongue. She was pretty sensitive there too, her fingers curling in my hair to keep my attention where she wanted it—a hint of control that turned me on even more.

I didn’t worship George the way I would Caspian, but it was still…service, I guess? She could have used me, or bossed me around, and I would probably have enjoyed it just as much, but she didn’t. Just accepted my attentions as her due with the indulgence of a decadent empress. Which I, of course, found wildly hot. And made me feel submissive in a whole new way. A supplicant to someone else’s desires.

Thank God I’d got off earlier. I was already hot and bothered at the point of kneeling between her thighs, pushing into her, but the hard, lube-slick clench of her body would have finished me off. And I still had to grit my teeth a moment because it had been a while for me this way round and I’d half forgotten how intense it could be. The strength and intimacy of that interior heat.

Her hand came up and closed around my throat. Gently, but yikes. “Don’t you dare, poppet.”

“I…I…” I sucked in a rough breath. “You feel amazing.”

“Yes, I know. But if you even think of coming before I do—”

“I’m not. I won’t. I promise.”

She slid her thumb caressingly over my pulse, which didn’t exactly help with the whole controlling myself deal. “Good boy.”

I knew it was a total cliché of me to like being called that. But I did. It was the teeniest bit demeaning, except in a…nice way? Like a full-body toe curl.

Grinning, I nestled my hips against hers. “I’m better than good.”

“That, my dear, remains to be seen.”

Okay, so, look. I don’t want to boast. But I was actually pretty fucking amazing. I mean, I thought my balls were going to explode for most of it, but they didn’t, and in a twisted sort of way, I almost enjoyed it. I mean, not the ball-exploding specifically. Just the gentle, and increasingly ungentle, ache of self-denial. And knowing I was pleasing George.

Because, for the record, I was. Isowas.

And she was gorgeous like that, her eyes heavy-lidded with bliss and the sardonic twist of her mouth softened in passion. Oh my God, and thesoundsshe made. These deep purring groans, like a tiger in the sun. We ran through the ol’ reliables—missionary, and variations, from behind, with us both kneeling, and then George braced on her forearms, missionary again because I was nothing if not ambitious when it came to putting my dick in people—and finally on our sides, while I kissed the sweat from her shoulder and she worked her cock with long, deft strokes. It was vindication and mercy both when she came, and almost enough to send me over too. I clung on nobly, though, and once I’d eased out of her, she flopped onto her back and regarded me with an air of sated amusement.

I, err, I whined.

Her lips twitched. “Something you want, poppet?”

Since my mouth was dry, and my tongue about six sizes too big for it, I gave an emphatic nod.

“Then you’d better ask nicely, hadn’t you?”

Fuck. Squirmy-making. But I was also about to lose my mind. “Can,” I mumbled, “can I come. Please?”

“Is that really the best you can manage?” George dabbed her fingers into the shiny puddles she’d left across her stomach and chest. Then slipped them between my lips. Which did absolutely nothing for my self-control. She tasted tangy-sweet, and of everything I couldn’t have.

I’d always been taught not to talk with my mouth full. But this was an emergency. “Please.I need to. I—”

She stroked my tongue, turning my words into a needy gabble.

“I was good,” I managed, part plea, part protest.

That made her smile, with a degree of affection I would have appreciated more if not for the whole about-to-die-of-lack-of-orgasm thing. “You were. You wereverygood.”

I gazed at her with my biggest eyes.

“Well, all right. But give me a good show.”

My hand had jumped to my cock like it was on a string, but now I hesitated. “A…a…what?”

“I like watching.”

“You’re such a pervert,” I wailed, need and denial and the good sort of embarrassment all knotted up inside me.

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