Page 122 of Stolen By the Billionaire
His hips jerked, and his groans became gasps and grunts. His whole body thrust forward, three sharp stabs into her mouth, and Sarah choked as warm saltiness flooded down her throat.
And then he was crouched over her, one hand heavy on her shoulder as he panted, his eyes closed.
Sarah released him and looked up. “I didn’t—did I hurt you?”
“God, no, you didn’t hurt me,” he whispered. “Damn, woman. I think I saw stars. I mean, it’s been a while, but . . . damn. Did I hurt you?”
An unexpected puff of pride curled Sarah’s lips as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “I’m fine.”
He eased backward to rest his backside on the bed and tucked himself away. “Come here.”
Sarah stumbled upright because her feet tingled, and she flopped into his open arms.
As if from her falling against him, Blaze rolled back onto the bed, protecting her as they tumbled, and she laughed.
He grinned and rolled over on top of her, the weight of his body pressing her into the bed’s soft mattress and eliciting a calming yet crazy energy in her. He smirked and asked, “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?”
“Yeah, I think it’s funny,” Sarah said, looking up at him from the corners of her eyes like a bad girl might. “You forgot to tie me up.”
His chin lowered, and the sarcasm in his smirk turned sinister. “Yes, I did promise you that. Thank you for reminding me, kitten.”
Blaze reared up, straddled her hips with his muscular thighs, and reached for his duffel bag, which was now sitting beside the bed on a luggage rack. Without even taking his eyes off hers as he stared her down, he fished around in the duffel bag and came up with a handful of those pretty, silky ropes.
Oh, he knew how to make a girl feel special.
Quivers jittered through her flesh. She tried to believe that she was scared of what would happen, but that was just straight-up anticipation shaking her bones.
And then Blaze’s smirky half-smile returned. “I’ve got a better idea. Supper, first.”
Sarah pushed herself up on her elbows as much as she could with him sitting on her pelvis. “What?”
“Yes, kitten. It is a punishment, and you will wait for it.”
After him in her mouth, after rolling with him on the bed, after him holding those naughty dirty ropes in his hand, he was forcing her to eat supper?
She smacked the bed with her fist. “Dang it, Blaze!”
His hands moved in a flash, pushing her down on the bed, and then he had a rope across her throat with the ends wrapped around his fists and was punching them down into the bed beside her ears.
He growled, “When we’re alone, call me Sir.”
Frustration turned to an inkling of terror and a scrambling to comply. “Yes, Sir?”
“Better. Now come with me. Supper was delivered while you were showering.”
He stopped at the thermostat and tapped it before he sat at the table. “At my feet.”
Surely he didn’t mean—
No way.
“I beg your pardon?” Sarah asked.
“You’ll sit at my feet, your knees tucked under you as before. I will feed you.”
Warm air flooded the hotel suite, and Sarah no longer felt the chill on her naked body that she hadn’t even noticed until it was gone.
And so Sarah ate steak, potatoes, carrots, and salad from Blaze’s fingers like a poodle, and then he fed her the sweetest, creamiest chocolate mousse that was better than Perkin’s French Silk Pie.
