Read Romancing the Billionaire Online

Authors: Jessica Clare

Romancing the Billionaire (26 page)

“It's true,” he told her, and looked up into her eyes with his own intense, solemn gaze. “‘The love which makes us one.' When I'm with you, I feel whole again.”

“Me, too.” Violet tilted his face so she could kiss him, and he rolled them backward onto the bed. She lay on top of him for a moment, the kissing continuing, and then he rolled them both once more until Violet was under him, and he was on top of her.

“I want to see you naked, love. I want to put my mouth on all of you.” His kisses moved from her mouth, to her jaw, then down to her breasts. All the while, his hand tugged and pulled at her skirt.

She wriggled under him, drowning in his touch. She wanted his mouth all over her, and just the thought of his lips delving into her pussy sent her moaning. She guided his hand to the zipper at her hip, and he began to slowly pull it down. It stopped halfway, stuck, and he swore an oath and ripped it the rest of the way down.

She didn't even care. “I want your mouth on me, Jonathan. Now. Please.”

He bit the tip of her nipple in response, and she nearly came off the bed at the sweet shock of pleasure mixed with the hint of pain. “Patience. I'm still unwrapping my present.”

“Unwrap faster,” she told him, raising her hips wantonly. “I need you.”

“We have all the time in the world, love.” His tongue licked slowly at her nipple, soothing away the small bite he'd given it.

“But I ache for you,” she told him in a low, pleading voice. “I've been dreaming about you, you know. Every night.”

He groaned and buried his face against her gently rounded stomach, giving her skirt another tug. “Have you?”

“I have.”

“I was a little afraid I was the only one still madly obsessed once you left me. I kept thinking that you just wouldn't care.”

“That's not true,” she said in a soft voice, sucking in when his tongue dipped against her belly button. She'd had no idea she was ticklish there, but his tongue was making her want to squirm and writhe with every licking caress. “I dreamed of you every night.”

“Dirty dreams?”

“Very dirty,” she told him. “Erotic, sweaty, blissful dreams.”

“Mmm, tell me more.”

She didn't remember much of them. All she knew was that she had his face in her mind, his body pressed against hers, and when she woke up, her panties were wet and she was aching with unfulfilled need. “They're never as good as the real you, but I woke up every day and ached for you.”

His fingers slid under her skirt, still hitched around her hips, and cupped her mound through the silk of her panties. “Did you ache here?”

She moaned. “Yes.”

One finger pushed against her slit, dragging against it through the now-wet fabric. “Is all this wetness for me?”

Violet spread her legs wider, encouraging him. “Oh, Jonathan, that feels so good.”

“How good?” He continued to rub, pushing down against her flesh like she was a sculpture he was molding under his fingers.

“D-decadent,” she panted, making a mewing sound every time his fingertips dragged over her clit.

“Mmm, I like that word. I do think
decadent
makes me think of sweet, delicious things. And are you sweet and delicious, Violet?”

“Why not taste me and find out?” she asked breathlessly, raising a knee until she was sprawled wide open against him, her open legs beckoning.

“Oh, I will. I'm just saving my dessert for a little while longer.” His hand lifted from between her legs and he raised it to his mouth, licking his fingers. She watched as his eyes closed in delight. “God, you taste good.”

“Still savoring?” Her hips rolled uselessly against the sheets at the hot look in his eyes. “Or is that just an excuse because you can't get my skirt off?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I admit nothing.”

Violet grinned and slid her hand to her skirt, working it down her hips with a bit of creative wiggling. Why, oh why, had she chosen to wear such a tight, inflexible fabric this morning? Sure it looked good on, but it was hell to take off. When she had the skirt down to her knees, though, he grabbed the material and hauled it off her legs, flinging it to the ground. She was left in nothing but her silky pink panties, the crotch damp from excitement, and he gazed down at her, studying her. Automatically she parted her knees and presented herself to him, waiting for more.

To her surprise, he put his palm on her stomach, just below her belly button, and gave her a thoughtful look. “Have you . . . thought about the future much?”

She sucked in a breath, suddenly flattened. “You mean, a baby?”

He nodded, his hand caressing her skin.

Oh, wow. Blinking back sudden tears, Violet forced a small shrug to her shoulders. “Earlier I did, of course. Now . . . I don't know.”

“I think I'd like to see you carrying my child,” he said in a soft voice, and leaned down to kiss her stomach again. “Maybe not right away. We still need time for us. But maybe in a few years.”

Violet nodded, overcome. “I'd love that,” she said, aching. It wouldn't replace the baby she'd lost—that unnamed child would always hold a special place in her heart—but they could start a family. Start fresh. Try again.

She loved the thought of that. Her hand went to his hair and she brushed it off his forehead with a loving touch. “Maybe we skip the condoms tonight, then.”

Jonathan looked up at her in surprise. “Are you still on the pill?”

“I am. One step at a time. No baby yet, but . . . I want to feel all of you inside me.” She wanted that bond that having his flesh against hers would bring them. The intimacy of knowing that nothing separated them from each other, that they'd made this commitment to each other's bodies.

“All right,” Jonathan said softly, and his hand slid down to her panties again. This time, he pushed his fingers under the band and sought out her flesh underneath the fabric. “But I want your hands all over me, Violet. I want to feel every ounce of your skin against my own for every moment.”

“I can do that,” she told him in a low, sweet voice. “It'd be my pleasure.” Her hand went to his cheek and she cupped his face as he placed his hand over her mound. He wanted her to touch him? She'd like nothing better. Her fingers trailed down his neck and over one muscular shoulder even as she felt his fingers push between the slick lips of her pussy, seeking out her deepest warmth.

He groaned at the feel of her. “God, you're dripping wet for me, Violet. I can't wait to get in there and drink you up. I want that sweet honey of yours coating my tongue.”

She whimpered at his words. If that was true, then why were her panties still on? It was the last item of clothing she wore. He, meanwhile, was fully dressed. She dragged her fingers against the collar of his shirt in a silent plea. Skin. That was what she wanted. Hot, delicious, bronzed skin against hers.

His fingers pushed deeper, and she felt him sink one into her core. Violet moaned, bucking against his hand. “Oh, yes!”

“You're so wet and tight for me, Violet.” He thrust his finger deep into her again and ground his palm against her clit in a motion that sent thrilling shock waves through her body. “God, I love how wet you get for me.”

She moaned, pushing her hips against his hand. “Naked, Jonathan,” she begged. “Want you naked.”

“In a minute,” he told her. “I can't wait any longer to taste you.” His fingers slid from her warmth and she whimpered a protest. A moment later, his face was pressing between her legs, her panties bunching under his chin as he pushed his face down to lick her pussy. His hands framed her mound, pushing her panties back and pushing her lips wide, exposing her clit.

Then he leaned in and took a long, slow taste.

Violet nearly came off the bed with pleasure. “Oh!”

“I've missed this sweet taste,” he murmured against her flesh. “I want this every day for the rest of my life. Morning, noon, and night.”

She moaned when he tongued her clit again. “Jonathan, please.”

“Please what, love?” Even his breath against her skin was driving her wild.

She sobbed at having to state it aloud. “Please make me come.”

“Oh, I plan on it. I need more of this sweet juice to lick up.” He dragged his tongue down her now-swollen folds, groaning with pleasure as he did. “I plan on making you come over and over again.”

Violet arched against his mouth, trying to push her flesh against his tongue in suggestion. He continued to lick her, and every swipe and caress of his tongue was driving her maddeningly closer to the edge. Not quite over, but closer. Her fingers went to her nipples and she began to caress them in time with his tongue. “God, your mouth,” she groaned.

“You're so lovely, Violet. So beautiful. I want you to come so hard for me. Come on my face so I can drink it down.”

His words and her own teasing hands slammed her over the precipice; she came with a moan, her legs trembling as he continued to lick her with sure, slow strokes, lapping up every bit of wetness until she was shuddering with every lick as it sent aftershocks through her body.

Jonathan finally raised his mouth from her flesh, his lips gleaming wet, his eyes hot with passion. “Nothing tastes better than your come.”

She stretched her arms over her head languidly, feeling delicious. “You're way too good at that.”

He licked her pussy again, making her quiver all over. “It's my favorite thing in the world—seeing you lose control in my arms.”

Violet tugged at the collar of his shirt again. “You know what would give me pleasure? You getting naked so I can put my hands all over you.”

His eyes gleamed and he pressed one last kiss to her mound and sat up. “I can do that.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he stripped off his jacket and then his shirt, muscles flexing. She lifted her foot and pressed it against his lower abdomen as he reached for his pants. “Man, I don't know about you, but I've forgotten all about poetry.”

“What poetry?” he asked, and gave her a wicked grin that made her shiver.

“My thoughts exactly,” Violet murmured, pulling her foot back when he bent over to shuck his pants. A moment later, he stood upright and stepped out of his pants, and she gave a sigh of pure pleasure at the sight of him, naked and gorgeous. “That's much better.” She sat up and began to run her hands down his chest, a little sigh of contentment escaping her. “You're so hard all over.”

“I am,” he said hoarsely. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I can tell.” She reached down to his straining cock and took it in her hand. The length of him was rigid with arousal, the tip leaking beads of pre-cum. Her thumb found the wetness on the crown of him and rubbed it, circling on his skin. “All of this looks very hard and lonely to me.”

“Lonely?” His voice was strained. His hands went to her hair and he dug his fingers into it, tilting her head back and kissing her mouth.

“It looks like it wants to go home,” she told him playfully. “I know just the spot for it, too.” Her hand wrapped fully around his girth and she pumped him. “Someplace warm, and wet, and snug . . .”

He groaned against her mouth.

“Best of all, he doesn't need a raincoat,” she told him, and then nipped at his lip. “Sound like your kind of place?”

“It does.”

Violet wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. They kissed, and she could taste her own desire on his lips. Her hands smoothed up and down his back, and he groaned again. “I love your touch.”

“I love touching you,” she admitted. His skin felt hot against her own, and he smelled like a mixture of sweat and musk and Jonathan, and she couldn't get enough of him. She leaned forward and sat up, her nipples brushing against his chest, and sucked in a breath when he dragged her hips forward until her sex cradled his cock. Her body was pulled against his, and she sat on the edge of the bed while he stood, her limbs twined about him for support.

“I need to be inside you,” he told her.

“I need you inside me,” she countered, a faint smile playing on her lips. “What are you waiting for?”

His fingers curled in her hair and he tilted her head a little farther back, nipped at her mouth again, and then said, “I love you, Violet. With all my heart and soul.”

And while her heart was fluttering at that intense, sincere admission, he pushed forward and seated himself deep inside her.

Violet gasped; she was always a little shocked at the feel of him when he pushed into her. The thickness of his cock, the sensation of him impaling her was always welcome but stunning. Today, it had the added sensation of his cock being bareback; she imagined she could feel every vein in his cock throbbing against her walls. “Oh, wow.”

“God damn,” Jonathan said hoarsely. “You without a rubber . . . Jesus.”

“I know.” Her hands caressed his chest. “I know.”

“I'd forgotten how good it felt.” He closed his eyes and pulled her tighter against him, burying his face in her neck. “I've never gone bare with anyone but you, you know.”

“Really?” She swallowed. Why did that feel like such a meaningful thing?

“Really.” His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, and then he gently lowered her backward onto the bed, dragging her forward as he climbed in with her. “You've been the only serious relationship I've ever had. The others were just . . . well, paid sex.”

He'd mentioned that before, but it had never sunk in for her, not really. Now, the wonder of it truly hit her. There had never been anyone for him but her.

It was humbling.

Her hands smoothed over his shoulders. “Have I told you that I love you?”

He pulled back and then pushed into her with infinite slowness, her body still clasped against him with one arm, the other supporting his weight as he hovered over her. “You can tell me over and over again, and I will never tire of hearing it.”

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