Page 171 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
52
Summer
His features contort. His hard chest shudders. His hard, veiny shaft jumps in my palm and hot bursts of cum sear my forearm, my chest; streak the blouse I’d teamed with my short skirt.
Sin in the throes of an orgasm? It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. A moan bleeds up my throat, I swallow it. Tilt my chin up.
"You’re lying."
His features relax. His dick pulses in the aftermath of the orgasm. My fingers don’t meet around the column of his hardness. Damn him. And he just came. The hell?
He smirks, "When you have a man’s balls in your grasp, it’s more potent than a dying declaration."
I frown. "You mean that a man will say anything to get his dick sucked?"
"Are you offering?" He scowls.
"No." I release him and his hold on my neck tightens.
"Then I will."
He flips me around, so I am the one leaning against the desk. He drops to his knees in front of me.
"What the—?"
"Let me." He peers up at me from under hooded eyelids.
"Sinclair, what are you doing?"
"Let me pleasure you, Darling."
I shake my head, grip the edge of the desk with my palms, mirroring his stance from earlier.
"Please." His features soften.
"Wow."
"Didn’t think I knew how to say that word, huh?" He smirks.
A chuckle bubbles up. “Only you could turn a simple request into a—"
"Demand?"
"An asinine string of words."
"Love it when you talk filthy to me."
I set my lips together. "That wasn’t talking filthy you ass—" He leans in and touches his lips to the center of my body. Pleasure zings up my spine. I throw my head back, huff.
"Love it more when you moan."
"That was… a—"
"A yes?"
"Stop putting words in my mouth."
"Then say it aloud, Bird."
