A Peek at The Gazillionaire and the Virgin (Sunday Snog #207)

I’ve got a treat for you today, a first peek at my upcoming BDSM erotic romance novel, The Gazillionaire and the Virgin. The book comes out on the 29^th of January, and I’m planning all sorts of festivities to celebrate the release (including lots of prizes, of course!)

Wondering what the book’s about? Here’s the blurb.

Trust can’t be bought—it has to be earned

When Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky meets reclusive genius Theo Moore, she finds him strangely compelling. Theo is both arrogant and socially awkward, but he has an aura of power that speaks to Rachel’s carefully-hidden submissive side. Disturbed and aroused, she tries to focus on her original objective—a deal to incorporate his Artificial Intelligence software into her company’s popular virtual world. Rachel’s not the sort of woman to let pleasure interfere with business. For some reason, though, she can’t resist Theo’s geeky appeal.

Theo Moore can’t be bought. His past battles with poverty make him deeply suspicious of the billionaire CEO. Still, with her voluptuous curves and brilliant mind, Rachel embodies his ultimate sexual fantasy. Too bad his knowledge about sex derives from extensive research and a stash of kinky porn rather than real-world experience.

That doesn’t seem to bother Rachel, however. In his bed—in his arms—in his bonds—she discovers the bliss of total surrender. Rachel may be Theo’s first lover, but Theo is Rachel’s first true Master—and the first man to truly touch her heart. As they grow closer, it seems that love may harmonize their differing goals and values. Then Rachel’s unwitting violation of Theo’s trust threatens to tear them apart forever.

Anyway, here’s one of my favorite kisses from the book (unedited excerpt).

When you’re done with my snog, head back to Victoria’s Sunday Snogpage for lots more sexy kisses!

*****

Our fingers touch as I take the note. That minimalist brush of skin on skin sends heat roaring through me. I suck in my breath. My nipples pebble under my jacket. Thank God he can’t see them. I think I’d dissolve in embarrassment.

Theo spears me with a curious gaze. “Is something wrong, Rachel?”

“No, no – I’m fine.” I tuck the paper into my purse, then force myself to meet his eyes. “I’m very glad to see you, Theo.”

His stiff posture softens a bit. “Me too.” He sweeps his gaze over my form. “You look – well – just beautiful.” Before I know what’s happening, he reaches out to engulf my small hand in his much larger one. He gives me a squeeze. “I’ve missed you,” he says, almost inaudible.

You missed me? It’s been less than forty eight hours, I start to say, trying to laugh off his intensity. But his warmth accelerates my pulse and dampens my pussy. His scent of soap and menthol shaving cream swamps me with memories of our transcendent first night together. I ache to have him in my arms again – to have in my cunt. I can’t deny I’ve missed him too.

He’s watching me, reading my face, his dark eyes flickering with emotion. I am suddenly as frightened as I am aroused. Theo Moore isn’t going to do casual. He’s an all-or-nothing sort of guy. I could seriously hurt him.

I want him, oh yes, more than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time. Am I ready to take responsibility, though, for the consequences?

So I don’t answer, don’t tell him how he has monopolized my thoughts for the past two days. Instead I change the subject.

“Have you thought about how you’ll use the donations?” Even to my own ears, my enthusiasm rings false.

“No – no – never mind that. I’ll consider that later.” He tugs on my hand, pulling me closer. My body slides across the leather upholstery, until my thigh presses against his. “I want to talk about us, Rachel.”

There is no ‘us’, I want to tell him. It’s too risky. Last night was great, but it won’t happen again. I choke down the words. I can’t think of any reply that won’t damage his fragile self-image.

There’s no chance for me to speak anyway. Theo wraps me in his bear-like arms, leans in, and claims my mouth. His kiss scatters my resolution like sun burning through fog.

His lips lock to mine, firm and muscular, taking control. I don’t fight him – how can I, when both of us know this is what I want? When he runs his tongue along the seam, I open automatically, following my instincts as he, I suspect, is following his. He tastes of peppermint. He smells like sun-warmed earth. He drinks me in as though he’d like to swallow me whole.

It sounds melodramatic to say I swoon in his arms, but it’s not far from the truth. I relax into his embrace, buoyed by his strength, dizzy with arousal. He kisses me thoroughly, thoughtfully, as though he’s memorizing my flavor. Meanwhile, he slips one hand under my jacket to palm my breast, thumbing my rigid, needy nipple as though he’d known about my nakedness all along.

Perhaps he did. He also knows exactly what to do with it, how to play with me until I’m drenched, trembling, moaning into his mouth.

I’m breathless when he finally releases me, with my pulse pounding in my ears and my clit throbbing in time.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He grins as he states the obvious. “What about panties?”

I suck air into my lungs and rake my fingers through my tangles, as though that might bring some order to my thoughts. When I start to pull my jacket closed, he stops me with a glance. Do I really think I can hide from him? “That’s none of your business.”

“Oh really? I disagree.” He sniffs. Mingling with the scents of brass polish and seasoned leather is the tidal fragrance of my wetness. “I’m willing to bet the price of this fancy ride that your pussy’s bare under your skirt.”

“Don’t be rash, Theo. Luxury Limos Limited charges six hundred dollars per hour…”

“Prove me wrong, then. Spread your legs, Rachel.”

“Don’t be silly…”

“Rachel. Are you really going to disobey me?” There’s that tone of authority again, out of nowhere, challenging me.

Why am I resisting? Why in the world did I go commando unless I wanted Theo to see?

Still, it’s hard for me to comply. I’m so used to being the one in charge.