Page 74 of The Billionaire's Second Chance
“If you’re good,” I said, and he laughed.
“I love you, you know that, don’t you?”
He’d told me a hundred times since the first time, at the New York Public Library. Athousand. And every time, it made me feel like I was nineteen, foolish and blushing and hopeful and so, so happy.
“I do,” I told him. “I love you, too.”
“And I know just why,” he said, kissing up the column of my throat.
“Oh?” His leg slipped between mine, my wrap dress riding up. We’d come straight from dinner, Charlie telling me he had a surprise for me. I hadn’t expected it to involve a stop at our old high school, but the smile playing on his lips when he pulled me into the darkened library had let me know exactly what the surprise was. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as his kisses wended their way from my jawline to my mouth and his hands moved from my hips to my waist, then my ribcage. I had a surprise for him, too.
The tips of his fingers brushed the underside of my breasts through my dress and I gasped, more sensitive than usual. He smoothed his hands up over them, then broke our kiss, pulling back to look at me.
“Sami,” he groaned, and I smirked. His thumbs swiped over my peaks, making me shiver, and then, with two hands, he pulled the neckline of my dress down under my breasts, bare to the cool air. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
I giggled as he cupped my breasts in his warm palms, diving in to capture my mouth in a kiss once again, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands and hips pressed me into the bookshelf, his cock hard against my belly, as I lost myself in it, heat building between my legs, buzzing at the base of my spine, until I could barely think, barely breathe. I nipped at his lower lip, and he pulled away with a whispered curse. “Sami, baby,” he said.
“I want you,” I said, smiling.
“You have me,” he answered easily, but I shook my head.
“Not yet. But I will.” I turned around in his arms until I faced the bookshelf, then looked coyly over my shoulder. I’d been ready for hours it seemed, distracted all through dinner, waiting for this moment, when he smoothed his hand over my ass and then froze. My teeth bit into my lower lip.
“Fuck, Sami,” he cursed again, groping for the hem of my skirt, drawing it up and over my ass. “Fuck.”
“Yes, please,” I agreed, only to see him grinning, looking at me with laughter twinkling in his eyes. “What?” I asked.
My eyes fluttered closed as his hand dipped between my legs, his fingers skimming across my skin, far too gentle. “You really arealwaysmatching, hmm, baby?” he asked, amusement audible. “And so wet for me.”
“For you,” I echoed. Charlie’s zipper clinked and then I felt him, his stiff cock pressed against my entrance for a moment before my walls parted around him, the stretch just as satisfying as it always was. He groaned as he bottomed out deep inside.
“I’m not going to last,” he whispered in my ear, rocking his hips gently. Despite myself, despite the stretch zinging up my spine and the fullness making my limbs feel heavy, I laughed. I’d been half-naked all the way through dinner, imagining his moment of discovery, and even his small movements now, the way his hips ground against my ass, were bringing me closer and closer to the release I’d been looking for.
“Me neither,” I gasped as he grabbed my hips, tilting them up. I teetered on my heels and had to grab the bookshelf for support as his next thrust nearly knocked the breath from my lungs. “Harder,” I urged, adjusting my grip, widening my stance. I looked back over my shoulder at him to see him staring down at where we joined, and felt a deep pulse of arousal through my core, the risk of being caught doingthissuddenly hitting me. “Oh, fuck,” I gasped as his thrusts grew deeper, faster. “I’m so close, Charlie, I–Oh!” My legs gave out under me as my orgasm rushed over my every nerve ending and I blinked back stars. My hands slipped from the bookshelves–pulling several books with them–and it was only Charlie’s strong hands, wrapped firmly around my hips, that held me up as he fucked into me once, twice, before burying himself deep inside, cock twitching.
“Fuck, Sami,” he said, laughing even as he groaned through his orgasm. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”
I giggled, catching my breath. “I’m so sorry–did you get hit?”
“No,” he said, his forehead dropping onto the nape of my neck, his lips brushing the top of my spine. “You missed.”
“I’ll aim better next time,” I said, and felt his soft chuckle against my skin. His hands smoothed over my ass as he withdrew, then rearranged my skirt, letting it back down to where it fell just above my knees. I turned, fixing my neckline. Charlie was tucking his shirt back into his open pants, but he looked up at me, a smile on his face so fond that I looped my arms around his waist, trapping his hands between us, holding him close and slotting one leg between his. I nosed along his jaw, inhaling his scent, masculine and spicy. Asexyscent.Ridiculouslyso. I kissed his pulse, just below his ear.
“If you keep doing that, sweetheart…” Charlie warned, one perfect eyebrow raised at me.
“Oh?” I asked. I twisted my hands in the front of his shirt, pulling him down until his lips landed on mine. “What will you do?”
“Oh, I think you know, Sami.”
“IthinkI know,” I said. “But I’m not one hundred percent sure. I’ve been reading a lot of romances recently. Who’s to say it wasn’t one of those other billionaires keeping their fiancee up all night, and I’ve just gotten fiction and real life confused?”
“Aww, sweetheart,” Charlie grinned broadly. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.” I wrinkled my nose, rolling my eyes at him. “I’m that good?”
“Well, you have the look,” I said, running my hands up from his waist to his broad shoulders. He was wearing a suit tonight, and I’d been proud to walk into the restaurant on his arm–but not as proud as I was of him every morning as he made me coffee, kissed me, and let me go. When, at every gala and every fundraiser, he introduced me asSamantha Scott, and himself asCharlie Martin, her fiancéwith a glint in his eye and a firm hand at the small of my back. “But I’m not quite convinced.”
“I see,” he said, that same glint in his eye. “Let me take you home then; I’llproveit.”
I nodded, smiling up at him, and he took my hands in his, diving in for another deep kiss. “Let’s go. We don’t want to get locked in here again.” He dropped one hand, keeping my left hand in his, warm and dry and large, our fingers interlaced, and walked us through the door of the library, out through the dark halls of the school where I’d fallen for him–the first time and the second. He leaned toward me as we walked, side by side.
