Page 83 of Forbidden Billionaire
“Actually heading there now.”
A beat. “Did you drink?”
“One glass of chardonnay. Nothing more.”
“I don’t like you driving tired. You should have let Vionna take you.”
This isn’t the first time he’s made that argument. “Honestly everything’s okay. Just full of pizza and little tired.”
When I stop for a light, the interior of the car gets very quiet.
“I need you to remember something.”
I swallow. “What?”
Low, urgent command laces his tone. “Your orgasms belong to me.”
Heat flashes through me like a spark to kindling.
“Do you understand, my good girl?”
I exhale, shaky. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Now drive safely. Call me when you get there.”
“Oh?”
“You’re going to masturbate for me.”
I squeal. “On the phone?”
“No.” He pauses for a long, meaningful beat. “On video. I’m going to tell you exactly what to do. And you’re going to follow every one of my dirty orders, and I’m going to watch you do it. Any questions?”
Chapter Nineteen
Seraphina
A few days later, I open the door for him, and I know I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Or maybe…a delicious one.
Xavier Blackwell stands on the threshold, looking too good for my nervous system—crisp suit, clean-shaven jaw, the faintest shadow of five o’clock temptation. But it’s his eyes that undo me.
They drag over me, slow and lethal, lingering on the hem of my very short skirt before dropping farther, darkening with each inch, like a predator clocking a threat.
His jaw locks.
“You were planning to wear that? Out in public? To dinner? With me?” His voice is husky, with a low vibration.
God. His reaction is everything I dreamed of when I got dressed.
We’ve been busy with work, and we haven’t had sex since that unsettling Sunday night at my place. I feel a little unmoored, and I need an emotional and physical connection with him.
After my happy hour outing, he was sexy as fuck. But I haven’t had his hands on me, haven’t had him in my space.
