Page 135 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“Oooh,” he breathes against my ear as he grabs my butt, “no panties. I like that.”
The squeeze of his hand sends a ripple of need to the growing heat between my legs. At the same moment, his mouth finds mine, first running his tongue around the outline of my lips, then deepening the kiss until we’re both so desperate just from the touch of our mouths that our hands are everywhere, him tugging off my shorts and unbuttoning my top, me pushing down his boxers with my hands and then my toes.
“Never stop being this hot, Frankie,” he pants as his kisses pave a path down to my breasts. “Never stop.”
The fact that this man desires me, loves me, likes me, enjoys me, has fun with me, and has brought a new dimension to my life will astound me to the end of my days. It’s like I was living in two-dimensional black and white, and now I live in a multidimensional fully color-saturated world of rainbows and shooting stars.
“You neither.” I roll him over onto his back and slide down his body, gliding my tongue through the ridges of his rippling abs.
“Torture.” He pushes his fingers into my hair. “Your mouth is fucking torture.”
When I reach his magnificent erection, his grip tightens on a long, low groan.
The hard shaft twitches under my tongue as I slide up one side, over the silky head, under the rim—his favorite spot that always makes his head turn into the pillow—and down the other.
His pleasure is my pleasure. His love is my love.
I suck and lick my way back to the tip and take him slowly into my mouth. He lifts his head to look at me, his eyes meeting mine for a second of extreme togetherness before they settle on the show, watching himself slide back and forth between my lips, hitting the back of my throat each time.
One suck and his eyes close, his hands drop to his sides and his head falls back again with a cry of “Fuck, you’re good.”
I wrap my hand around his length, pumping while I suck.
Then begins the twist of his hips beneath me as he loses himself to the pleasure, his body taking control.
Then he’s suddenly back in reality, lifting me off his dick, pulling me back up his body.
“I want you,” he says. “I need you. But first…” He slides down the bed between my legs, only stopping when I’m straddling his face. “You.”
That first touch of his tongue on my clit is always shocking in the way it sends rockets of pleasure firing to every corner of my body.
Every time, it’s a surprise. Every time I’m never quite ready for it. Every time it takes my breath away.
“You taste so good.” He looks up at me as I circle my hips over his face, his hands on my buttocks guiding me.
One hand slides lower and slips between my legs from behind.
“Fuck, you’re wet. So fucking wet.” His words are hot against my throbbing clit as his fingers circle my entrance.
“Oh, my God, Miller.” My back arches, sending me bearing down harder on his tongue and his hand. “What you do to me.”
“How about this?” And his fingers are inside me, stealing every ounce of breath from my lungs, sending my body curving forward.
The suction of his tongue increases as he glides his fingers in and out, sending me sailing higher and higher.
“I can’t wait.” My words stutter out between breaths. “Can’t hold on.”
“You hold onto the headboard, and I’ll hold onto you,” he says.
And I give in, let myself go, allow myself to disappear into the firm hand gripping my ass that guides me on his mouth and his fingers.
When he touches me like this, he sends me to another plane of reality. It’s as if, when the two of us are together, we create a whole other place that’s not real life—it’s an entirely separate existence.
The almost unbearable pleasure swells like a balloon being inflated more and more and more, getting tighter and tighter.
A pin hovers over it. Tantalizing it. Teasing it. Tickling the edges of it.
Then gradually applies pressure…
