Page 22 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

She clawed at his upper arms, her fingernails marking his skin as she writhed against him. It was good, so damn good, but she wanted—needed—more.

“More, huh?” He smiled against her damp skin. Her inner monologue had escaped again, but she didn’t mind one damn bit, not if it meant he’d give her what she was asking for. Wasn’t that the point of all thoseCosmoarticles about how to communicate in bed? “Like this?”

His hand ghosted over her abdomen until he cupped her sex. One long finger slipped between her folds, brushing her swollen clit. She gasped and pulled one knee up to her chest, planting her boot flat on the countertop and giving him an all-access pass to her privates.

“Still not enough?” he taunted, wagging a brow at her blatant invitation. “How about this?”

Without warning, he dropped to his knees and buried his head between her legs. His tongue teased her with slow, agonizing circles, avoiding the spot where she needed him most.

Brooke moaned and let her legs fall farther apart. Her entire world had narrowed to his mouth and the magic it was working on her body. She closed her eyes, and her head dropped back, smacking the cabinet behind her. Her eyes flew open, and her mouth twisted into a grimace. “Ouch.”

Eli raised his head. “Are you…?”

She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled him back to her, silencing him. “I’m fine. Better than fine. Don’t you dare stop.”

He smiled against her as she squirmed to meet his elusive tongue. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He resumed his onslaught with renewed vigor. God, how she’d missed this. Not the subtle scrape of tongue against flesh, the gentle suction of lips on her. Okay, so she’d missed that. A lot. But more she’d missed the closeness, the intimacy that came with sex. At least with good sex. And this was better than good sex. It was mind-altering, body-tingling, soul-melting sex.

In less time than she wanted to admit, Eli had her tumbling over the edge into oblivion. He stayed with her as she bucked and writhed with pleasure. Only when the last tremor had subsided did he release her and look up her body. The cocky grin was back.

“Mission accomplished. You look damn good and satisfied to me.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She glanced down at his erection, still stiff and ready for action. “But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He rose slowly and found his jeans on the floor behind him. Her heart sank and she grabbed the lip of the counter in a white-knuckle grip. Was that it? Had he won their little bet to prove a point, and now he was walking away?

Then he pulled out his wallet, took out a condom, and tore it open. With swift, sure moves he sheathed himself. Her girly bits sprang to life again at the sight of his smooth, strong fingers rolling the rubber down his shaft. They tingled faster when he stepped back between her waiting thighs and ran a hand along the soft suede of one of her boots. “My fantasy is about to come true. Having you beneath me in nothing but these sinfully sexy shoes.”

…

Eli had always prided himself on being in control at all times. Whether it was in the boardroom or the bedroom, he never let his emotions get the best of him.

Until Brooke.

That night at the bar, he hadn’t been able to resist her. And it had been hell on earth sleeping a few feet down the hall from her without banging down her door and screwing her senseless. Now that he had her spread out in front of him in those infernal boots, her hair in loose, wild waves about her face, her eyes wide, and her plump lips slightly parted and begging to be kissed, the odds of him staying cool and in command were about as good as his chance of buying Central Park from the city of New York and turning it into a parking lot.

He guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing the tip through her wet heat. One thrust and he’d be inside her, enveloped in all that delicious warmth. Holding back was torture, pure and simple. “Tell me you’re ready for this.”

“I am.” She lifted her hips to meet him, as if to prove her point. “Please.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He entered her, hard and fast, no pretense of gentleness. There would be time for sweet and slow later. This was the time for hot-and-heavy, wall-banging, piss-off-the-neighbors sex. Which was fine, because Charise was spending a couple of days with her baby daddy’s family in New Jersey, and he was Brooke’s next closest neighbor.

And he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Fuck.” He ground the word out through clenched teeth and started to move. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed in as far as he could, filling her completely.

She let out a sharp hiss of breath but stayed with him all the way, her arms coming up to loop around his neck. He grabbed the edge of the counter on either side of her shapely hips and pounded into her, his thrusts growing faster, wilder with each encouraging moan from her lips.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he said between heavy breaths.

“Don’t,” she coaxed him, her husky voice dripping with lust, almost finishing him off. “Let go.”

He closed his eyes and tried to think of absorption rates and environmental impact statements. “You first.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her mouth curved into a seductive smile that tugged at him, balls-deep. “I already crossed the finish line, remember?”

As if he could forget the sight of her coming apart beneath him, her head thrust back, eyes closed, mouth in a perfect, ecstatic “O.” She wrecked him, this woman, in a way no other had. He didn’t understand it, didn’t know how or why she alone had awakened some primal, protective urge in him that was previously dormant. And to be honest, he didn’t care. It felt right. It felt good.