Page 33 of The Billionaire's Secret Desire
I laugh, squeezing her hand gently, my thumb brushing against her knuckles. “You were amazing out there. I’m seriously proud of you. Facing your fear like that? That takes guts, Charli.”
"I'm pretty proud of myself, too," she says, her smile lingering as she looks out toward the water, then back at me. "I still can’t believe I actually did it—and liked it. That view? Those dolphins? It was like something out of a dream." She laughs softly, a little dazed, then shakes her head. "I mean, I was this close to chickening out. But you were right. If I hadn’t done it, I would've regretted it. So yeah... proud feels pretty damn good right now."
The dock is quiet when we arrive at the yacht, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the hull echoing beneath the stars. I help her aboard, then pull her close once we’re on deck. Her hands rest lightly on my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt like she doesn’t want to let go. I dip my head and kiss her—slow, deep, meaningful.
She hums softly into the kiss, and when I pull back just enough to look at her, her eyes are slightly glazed, her smile dreamy. “You always kiss me like you mean it,” she whispers.
“I do,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her cheek.
She starts to say something, maybe a deflection, maybe an excuse—but I cut her off with another kiss, gentler this time.Then I pull back with a playful grin. “Come on. Let’s get inside before I change my mind and take you right here on the deck.”
When I start to guide her inside, she laughs breathlessly, pulling back just a little, eyes sparkling. “Where are we going?” she asks, tilting her head like she already half-suspects the answer but wants to hear me say it.
I just grin, the kind of grin that promises trouble—or something better. "You'll see," I murmur, giving her hand a gentle tug.
She mock-gasps, feigning scandal. "You’re being very mysterious for a man with a yacht."
"It’s part of the charm," I say, leading her toward the door with deliberate slowness. "But trust me, you’re going to like where we end up."
I say nothing more and just take her hand again, walk her down the narrow hallway, and open the door.
Her eyes go wide. “You have a bedroom on your yacht?”
I grin. “Charli, I'm a billionaire. Of course I do.”
Chapter 14
Charli
There’s something raw in Sawyer’s eyes, a hunger I’ve not seen before, and it makes my stomach flip in a way that’s both thrilling and unsettling. The yacht’s gentle sway beneath us feels like a mockery of the storm brewing inside me.
The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn, casting long moonlit shadows across the plush carpet. Before I can protest further, he pulls me inside; the door clicking shut behind us.
The sudden darkness disorients me for a moment, but then my eyes adjust. He stands close, his presence dominating the small space. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. I can feel the heat radiating off him, a tangible force that pulls me in despite my better judgement. The air smells of salt and something distinctly him–musk and a hint of cologne.
“What’s going on between us?” I ask, my voice softer now, the nervousness fading as I take in the raw emotion on his face. He doesn’t answer, just reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek, his touch both gentle and demanding. My skin tingles where he touches me, a spark igniting deep within me. I’m torn between wanting to pull away and taking it slow and wanting to press closer.
“Sawyer,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. He leans in, his lips brushing against mine, a fleeting touch that leaves me breathless. I close my eyes, my body responding instinctively, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. But he pulls back, just enough to keep me wanting more. His breath is hot against my lips, and I can taste the hint of the wine from dinner on his tongue.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he murmurs, his voice rough, almost desperate. His hands move to my waist, pulling me closer, his body pressing against mine. I can feel the hardness of his chest, the strength in his arms, and it sends a shiver down my spine. His scent envelops me, and I’m drowning in it, in him.
“I—” I start to say, but he cuts me off, his lips crashing down on mine in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s fierce, hungry, his tongue demanding entry as his hands roam over my body. I melt into him, my hands tangling in his hair, my nails scraping his scalp as I pull him closer. His stubble scratches my chin, and I don’t care—I want more.
The kiss deepens, our breaths mingling, our bodies moving in sync. His hands slide down to my hips, lifting me effortlessly, pressing me against the wall. I wrap my legs around his waist, my heart pounding in my chest as he grinds against me, his erection pressing insistently against my core. The friction sends a jolt of heat through me, and I moan into his mouth, my hips instinctively rocking against him.
“Sawyer,” I gasp, my voice breaking as pleasure coils low in my belly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from our kiss. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, his breath hot against my skin. His hands move to the hem of my dress, pulling it up slowly, his fingers tracing the curve of my thigh. I shiver, my skin hypersensitive to his touch, every nerve ending screaming for more.
“What are you doing?” I ask, though I already know the answer. He doesn’t respond, just continues his slow exploration,his fingers inching higher, brushing the edge of my panties. My breath hitches, my body arching into his touch, craving more. I’m wet, so wet, and the thought of him knowing it makes me even hotter.
“Sawyer,” I moan, my voice pleading. With a devilish grin and a dangerous glint in his eyes, his mouth is on my neck, his lips and teeth grazing my skin as his hands slide beneath my panties. I gasp, my head falling back against the wall as his fingers find their target, slipping between my folds, already slick with desire.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. His fingers circle my clit, teasing, tormenting, before sliding inside me, filling me with a heat that makes me whimper. “Sawyer, please,” I beg, my body trembling on the edge of release. I’m desperate for it, for him, for everything.
He chuckles, a dark, possessive sound, and then his mouth is on mine again, his kisses fierce and demanding. His fingers move faster, his touch relentless, pushing me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, my muscles tightening, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The room spins, and all I can think about is how much I need to come, need him to make me come.
“Come for me,” he commands, his voice a husky whisper against my lips. His fingers press deeper, his thumb rubbing my clit in firm, insistent circles. I cry out, my body arching as the orgasm crashes over me, waves of pleasure washing through me, leaving me trembling and boneless in his arms. My channel clenches around his fingers, and I’m screaming his name, my voice hoarse and raw.
He holds me up, his grip steady, his breath hot against my ear as I ride out the climax. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re mine, Charli. All mine.”
