“We have to be quiet,” I hiss when Charles shuts the door with his foot. The sound radiates, but he doesn’t seem like he carries an ounce of regret. He doesn’t let me scold him, not when he sweeps across the distance between us to kiss me.
I can feel his happiness with each pack, and his hunger with each hot slide of his tongue against mine.
“They’re too busy celebrating themselves,” he argues, “don’t worry about them. Just worry about us.”
A giggle escapes me as he knocks me onto the bed. The giggle dies down as he joins me, caging me in with his body. The press of his weight against mine is intoxicating, his body molding against mine like it’s meant to be there. When I inhale, my lungs fill with his scent, and my mind grows dizzy.
His hands feel cool to the touch as he slips his fingers beneath my sweater. Dragging it all the way up my head, he makes sure to kiss every inch he exposes.
It’s hard not to let my legs jerk while he kisses everywhere that is sensitive. The spots that tickle the most, he slides his tongue against. Once he reaches my breasts, he growls and is satisfied with finding my nipples beaded and hard.
I have to pull off my sweater; he’s too distracted with palming both of my breasts, squeezing them, and kissing the space between.
“You are so fucking pretty, Ellie.” His tongue flattens against one nipple before he swirls around the nub. “My gorgeous girl.”
My hips jerk as he showers me with compliments, and I can feel the hard ridge of his own arousal digging into me.
I really like being called his. Talk about a turn on. To be claimed by a man everyone wants, but no one can have, makes me dizzy.
I tell him that too, despite the embarrassment it brings. He doesn’t laugh, though; his eyes burn with satisfaction.
“Let them be jealous of you. The world is going to want to know how you tied me down, but they won’t have a clue. They won’t understand that I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He groans as he drags his mouth toward my throat. Kissing and nipping, he makes sure to leave a trail of marks.
Proof that I’m his.
Moaning as he finds my racing pulse with his tongue, I bow against him, seeking for a little relief. He’s good at that, getting me all wound up. So much that I can barely even think. By the time he makes it back to my mouth to kiss me senseless, I’m ready to beg him to just fuck me.
He wants it too. I can hear his low groans and feel him against my thigh. All he’s doing is torturing both of us.
Finally, he jerks the button of my jeans open. As soon as his fingers dig into the band of my jeans, I know I won’t have to wait much longer to get what I want. Lifting my hips, the denim disappears, and I squirm.
Being in nothing but my underwear while he’s still fully clothed is doing something to me. Something hot and damning.
Closing my eyes, one of my fantasies flickers behind my lids. Charles, coming home after a tiring shift, a tie already loosened around his neck, his hair messied from his fingers. Then there’s me, waiting for him. Not with a home-cooked meal like a traditional wife, but justme. Naked and waiting, ready to please him.
I think he’d like that a lot more than I would, and that’s saying something.
“That smile of yours is going to haunt me, baby.” Groaning as he drinks in my appearance, he stares at the patch between my thighs for the longest. “Already damp down there, and I’ve barely touched you. Fuck, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
My body has a mind of its own. I can’t help how it reacts to him.
Trying to contain the curve on my lips, I pull my underwear off for him, letting him see just how I’m responding.
The growl that leaves him must shake the room. That, or it’s just me trembling.
He throws off his coat, yanking and pulling like his patience no longer exists. Then he clutches his shirt.
“Keep it on.” The words leave me, the demand catching us both off guard. “I… I like the way it makes me feel. The difference.”
It’s a power adoration, I think. I’m a nobody, while he’s everything. I’m turned on by the difference. Even if it’s a little degrading, my body sings at the thought of being used.
His brows pinch together like he’s trying to understand how I’m feeling. While I’m too embarrassed to say it outright, he seems to be the problem-solving type. The kind who enjoys finding the solution.
My flush is hot and heavy, spreading over every inch of me. “You’ve always been out of reach, Charles. A few years younger than you, Owen’s friend, instead of mine. I always thought you never saw me. Never noticed me. But now… you have. Billionaire Charles Thornton, noticingme. You’re not just looking. You want me. You want—” I swallow as my eyes glaze over his bulge once more, “—to fuck me.”
He notices the way my thighs rub together, the way my skin prickles up at the reminder.
His throat bobs, his breathing slowing. “You like being the one the big, powerful man comes to when he needs relief.” He frowns, but it’s not from anger. It looks forced, like he’s trying not to smile and show his true feelings. “That’s it, isn’t it, baby? You want me to take what I want because I can.”
