Page 26 of The Billionaire's Secret Desire
I nod without hesitation, breathless. "Yes."
Sawyer doesn’t wait another second. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door next to mine, slides the keycard, and opens it. With one swift movement, he pulls me inside; the door clicking shut behind us. The air between us sizzles with heat, the tension breaking like a dam bursting.
He kisses me again, this time with no hesitation—just need. Just want. My hands find the hem of his shirt, his fingers dig into my hips, and for a moment, we stop pretending we don’t want this.
In this moment—lips bruised, hearts racing—I know we’ve already crossed a line we can't uncross.
Chapter 11
Sawyer
The moment Charli says yes, the word barely more than a breath between us, something inside me snaps. Not in a chaotic, out-of-control way, but like a steel cable finally giving after too much tension. I don’t hesitate.
My hand closes around hers, warm and firm, as I guide her down the hallway, the carpet muffling our footsteps. The room is only next door and I slide the key card in with one clean motion, the soft click of the lock disengaging echoing in the quiet corridor.
I push the door open, and the second we’re inside, I pull her in, kicking the door shut behind us with a resounding thud. The sound reverberates through the space, final and decisive. Charli’s back hits the wall with a soft thud, and I cage her in with my body. My hands brace on either side of her head. Her breath stutters, and her eyes flick up to mine, wide and dark, filled with something that’s not just desire—it’s raw, unfiltered trust.
That trust does something to me. Undoes me in a way I didn’t expect. It’s not just the heat in her gaze, but the vulnerability she’s offering me, the way she’s letting me see her, really see her.
I swallow hard, my throat tight with the weight of it. The room feels smaller now, the air thicker, charged with the electricity of what’s about to happen.
“You can still stop this,” I murmur, my forehead pressing to hers, my voice low and rough. The words feel heavy, like they’re carrying the weight of everything unspoken between us. My heart hammers in my chest, and I can feel the heat of her body against mine, a reminder of how close we are—physically and maybe something more.
She shakes her head slowly, her lips brushing mine as she whispers, “I don’t want to.” Her voice is steady, but I hear the tremor beneath it, the same mix of fear and longing I feel.
That’s all I need to hear.
My mouth crashes into hers, the kiss hungry and desperate. Her lips part instantly, and I taste her—sweet and salty, like the ocean after a storm. Her fingers dive into my hair, tugging hard enough to make my jaw clench, and I groan against her mouth, pressing closer. She arches into me, her body fitting against mine like it was made for this, and I feel my control slipping, the last fragile threads of restraint snapping like a rubber band.
Our clothes come off fast, urgent, almost frantic. Her tank dress is ripped up and over her head, the fabric catching on her earrings before falling to the floor. My shirt follows, yanked free and tossed aside, landing on a chair with a muffled thud. Her bra is next, the lace straps sliding down her arms as I pull it away, revealing her perky breasts, her nipples already tight and begging for my attention. I pause for a second, just to drink her in, her skin glowing in the dim light, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Fuck, Charli,” I growl, my voice thick with need. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
She doesn’t respond, just reaches for my belt, her fingers shaking slightly as she undoes it. I step back long enough to kickoff my shoes and peel off my pants, my throbbing cock jutting out, demanding her attention. She sinks onto the mattress, her back hitting the plush white duvet, her hair spilling around her like a halo. The moonlight filtering through the blinds casts her in a soft, silvery glow, and I swear she’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.
I crawl over her slowly, my movements deliberate; I’m savoring every moment. My lips brush the underside of her jaw, trailing down her neck, tasting the salt of the ocean and the faint tang of rum on her skin. She gasps, her thighs parting as my hand slides down between us, brushing over the thin scrap of lace she still wears. My fingers hook into it, tugging it down her legs, and I throw it aside, my eyes locking on her glistening pussy.
“God, Charli,” I breathe, my voice hoarse. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Then show me,” she pants, her voice wrecked and daring all at once.
I take my time with her, kissing every inch of her like she’s a prayer I’ve finally learned how to say. My lips trace the curve of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her navel. I tease her nipples with my tongue, sucking and nibbling until she’s squirming and moaning, her nails digging into my shoulders. My hand slides down her stomach, my fingers dipping between her thighs, and I groan when I feel how wet she is, her juices coating my fingers.
“You like that, don’t you?” I murmur, my thumb circling her clit. “Being touched like this. Being wanted like this.”
“Yes,” she gasps, her hips bucking into my hand. “Fuck, yes.”
I grin, a dark, dirty smile, and slide two fingers into her, slow and deep. She cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching off the bed. I curl my fingers, finding that spot that makes her see stars, and she’s loud, her moans filling the room, her bodyresponsive and uninhibited. I add a third finger, stretching her, prepping her for what’s coming, and she’s a mess, her core clenching around me, her juices dripping down my wrist.
“I want you to cum for me, Charli,” I growl, my mouth closing over her nipple. “Right now. On my fingers.”
She shakes her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Not yet. I want you inside me first.”
I hesitate, my fingers still buried in her, my cock throbbing with need. But I pull them out, slowly, torturously, as she whimpers, her hips chasing my hand. I lean down, kissing her deeply, and she moans into my mouth, her hands gripping my hair tightly.
When I finally position myself at her entrance, I pause, my eyes locking with hers. “You sure?” I ask, my voice rough. “Because once I’m in, there’s no going back.”
She nods, her eyes dark and hungry. “Yes,” she demands.
