Page 6 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

She unfastened the buttons one by one and let the shirt fall open, revealing a sheer seafoam-green bra that matched the thong he’d discarded earlier. “Better?”

“Bra, too,” he ordered.

“Bossy.” Even as she complained, she found herself reaching around her back to undo the hooks. It was like he was some sort of sexual sorcerer, manipulating her mind and rendering her incapable of disobeying his gruff demand.

He grinned. “You have no idea.”

She let the straps drift down her arms, keeping the cups in place with her palms.

“Are you going to stay like that all night?” he asked, running his knuckles over the lacy edge of one cup.

She lowered her hands, letting her bra drop slowly. Without taking his eyes off hers, he picked it up and flung it over his shoulder.

“What did you do that for?”

“I don’t want anything between us.”

“Oh.” Something inside her melted, and she wondered again where this model of manhood had come from and what she’d done to deserve him. He touched her like she was a hothouse flower, fragile and precious.

Reaching down, she encircled him with her fingers. He was hot and hard. His free hand covered hers, moving her palm over the head then down the shaft again. She wrapped one leg over his hips, bringing him closer to her warm, wet, and equally ready center.

“Condom,” he growled, rolling away from her to pluck his pants off the floor.

Shit.She was so far gone the thought of protection hadn’t entered her lust-clouded mind. Thank God he’d been aware enough to remember. Not that it said much for her powers of seduction.

He pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and fished out a foil packet, holding it up.

Brooke raised herself up on one elbow and let her eyes wander over his body. “Are you going to stand there all day posing, or are you going to get over here?”

“Door number two.” He suited up and rejoined her on the futon, pulling her on top of him. “Ride me.”

She reached down between them and guided him to her entrance.

“Christ.” He ground out the word from the back of his throat. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You, too.”

She would have said more, but he took hold of her hips and started moving inside her, at first slowly, then faster, robbing her of coherent thought. With each thrust, she released a small, needy moan. Her head fell back, and her eyes closed as she climbed higher and higher, closer to the edge and her ultimate release.

“I’m…”

“Yes.”

“Eli.”

“Now.”

Every cell in her body vibrated with energy, like she was racing a hundred miles an hour, on fire, toward climax. She arched her back and curled her toes, riding the tsunami.

“Holy hell.” Eli’s grip on her hips tightened and with a low, guttural groan he thrust into her one last time.

She collapsed on top of him, burying her face against his neck as her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths. They lay like that for a minute, her sweat-drenched body sticking to his. Silent. Awkward. Unsure.

He was the first to stir, rolling them to one side.

“Holy hell,” he repeated, scrubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw.

“That bad?” She winced at her lame attempt at a joke.