It’s
Sunday again, and I’m back with another extra hot, X-rated excerpt to
celebrate.
Today’s
offering is from my genre-busting BDSM erotic romance, The
Gazillionaire and the Virgin.
A
billionaire
entrepreneur.
An
inexperienced
virgin.
A
searing
love
affair. Think you know this
story? Think again!
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 him 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.
A
fresh gust of pussy-scent fills the car interior when I part my legs.
He rests a cool palm on my stocking-clad knee. I freeze as he walks
his fingers up the inside of my thigh, up to the sensitive skin above
the elastic of my hold-ups. Meanwhile, he holds me with that intense,
knowing gaze. I can’t bear the sense of transparency but I can’t
look away, either. Theo won’t allow it.
His
thumb grazes my pubic hair. It’s the tiniest of touches but still
enough to trigger a cascade of sparks in my cunt. I tense, waiting,
hoping for more. He withdraws instead, a half-smile gracing his
expressive mouth.
“I
knew it,” he murmurs. “You’re a total slut.”
Heat
flashes through me at his crudeness. Anger? Shame? Excitement? Maybe
all three. All I know is that my cheeks are blazing, my weeping pussy
is staining the seats, and I want his fingers back between my legs.
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