Page 33 of The Billionaire's Secret Wife
“You are!” Absurdly enough he liked her jealous. It meant she felt possessive about him. “You shouldn’t have worried.”
“Why not?”
“Because no other woman has my wedding band in her jewelry box.” He rose and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re the first and only.”
“Hmph. I hate blondes anyway.”
She pulled him down for a hot, carnal kiss. Her mouth attacked his aggressively, and he responded in kind.
Suddenly she broke away. “Take off your clothes.”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. His shorts went two seconds later.
“You aren’t wearing any underwear.” Her pupils darkened as she took him in.
“Saw no reason to.”
“Good.” She licked her lips.
Justin turned her around and unzipped her dress. The pale violet chiffon pooled at her feet. She was in nothing but a thong, garter belt and a pair of lace-edged stockings that ended at mid-thigh. He cursed as his cock grew so hard it almost hurt. “Is that how you dress on weekends?”
“Depending on what I’m planning.” She walked toward him until her bare breasts pressed against his torso. “Right now I want to show you I have more than just your ring.” She reached between their bodies and wrapped her hand around his throbbing shaft. He hissed—it felt too damn good, and she hadn’t done anything except kiss him and put her hand there.
She rubbed herself against him, her pointed nipples raking his chest. Her cheeks were flushed, and she licked her mouth again.
He crushed her to him and kissed her—almost too roughly, for teasing him and doubting him. Unlike some men, he took his wedding vows seriously. He cupped her ass and squeezed the firm flesh. She gasped, and he stabbed his tongue deep into her mouth, invading her and letting her know who was in charge.
She rocked against him, her hand moving over his cock. His pelvis pumped, and he stopped. “Let go.”
“No,” she whispered.
“We’re not doing this in your living room.”
Understanding dawned on her, and she let go. He swung her up, into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the sheet. Her hair spread out, she looked like a wanton angel.
Mine. My wife.
He moved over her and claimed her mouth in a possessive kiss. She wasn’t the only one green-eyed with jealousy. She worked in a firm crawling with men—and she wouldn’t let anybody know she was already taken. If he hadn’t trusted her, he would never have allowed her to keep their marriage a secret.
He ran his finger along the seam of her sex, hot and wet through the thong. He swallowed a groan. It was unbelievable how responsive she was, how sexy.
She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his muscles. Her thighs parted, and he fitted himself closer, his mouth fused to hers. He could stay like this forever, pleasuring her and loving her.
Suddenly she pushed him over on his back. She straddled him, her hot core resting over his cock, making it pulse. Her cascading hair looked like a river of fire as she gazed down at him with a feline smile on her lips. “I like you like this. I feel like I can do anything to you.”
“So do it,” he said, his voice passion-husky.
She raked her nails over his chest, just enough to make him feel the sting. “I believe I will.”
* * *
Vanessa had been stewing about him and the other women at the party, and now that she had him under her, her inner self crowed. She wanted him so turned on that he wouldn’t even remember his name.
She traced his body with her mouth. He was so lean and hard all over, his muscles so responsive to her lips. She remembered how much he loved having her hair caress his skin, so she made sure it followed the same path her mouth did.
Her fingernails flicked his nipples—making him gasp—then her tongue laved them one by one to soothe the hurt.
“How does that feel?” she whispered.
