Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(41)

My tie came over my head with a few solid yanks from her, and she worked at the buttons of my shirt, nibbling at the skin as she exposed it.

Each pinch of her teeth made my already hard dick harder. Forcing her up when my shins hit the comforter, I unwrapped her legs and stood her up on the edge of the bed in front of me. She was breathing hard as I pulled her shorts down roughly and shoved up her shirt to put my mouth to her tit. Her legs shook as I released her nipple with a pop, and I cut her legs right out from under her with a yank.

“Holy shit!” she yelled as her back hit the bed with a bounce.

Up and over, I flipped her on a roll, yanked her hips to mine and forced her knees into the bed. When her * glistened at me from between the cheeks of her ass, I reddened the skin with one sharp slap.

She yelped and shoved her ass back at me harder. My blood pounded.

“Go ahead, baby. Fall asleep on me now,” I taunted. “I dare you.”





Thatch kneeled on the bed while I straddled his thighs. He had one arm wrapped around my waist, while the other skimmed up my back and into the messy locks at the nape of my neck. Soft moans fell from my lips with each upward thrust of his hips.

“Come with me,” he demanded as his heady gaze stayed locked with mine.

Two bouts of giving him the Come Coma, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. We’d been at it for a while, but I had no f*cking concept of time. Thatch ensured I couldn’t focus on anything but him, holding my eyes with an intensity I’d never experienced.

My hands slid across this skin of his chest, his arms, until they found their way into his hair. I gripped the strands and pulled his mouth closer to mine as the initial sensations of my orgasm started to course through my veins. “Thatch, I’m there. I’m there,” I chanted. My lips brushed against his as panting breaths started to fall from my lungs.

He growled. “God, you’re gripping my cock so tight, honey.” His rhythm turned wild and reckless as he followed my lead, but he wasn’t taking any chances. As my release pulsed inside of me and my eyes wanted to roll closed, he slapped my ass hard. The sting faded straight to pleasure and rolled into another orgasm. I had to admit it was a smart move. Even I couldn’t fall asleep while his big hand was reddening my ass.

“Yes. Fuck,” he groaned as his long-awaited orgasm finally came to fruition. He wrapped both arms around my body, holding me tightly to his chest, as he rode out his climax inside me.

The sound of ragged air overwhelmed the space for several long moments.

Once we caught our breath, Thatch lay back on the bed, stretching out and maneuvering my body so that I was sprawled across his chest.

Holy hell. I was convinced this man had the stamina of a f*cking superhero. Every past sexual experience paled in comparison to the workout he had given me. I had been f*cked in every position possible. I glanced at the clock, and my eyes nearly bugged out. For three hours straight, my body had been flipped, turned, and sexed on just about every surface of his apartment.

He had taken me slow and deep in his bed. Rough and quick against the tile wall of his shower. Spread out across his kitchen table, where he literally ate me for breakfast.

He’d even f*cked me against the terrace doors, with the sounds of the city below us.

But he’d brought it home in his bed, and goddamn, I had to admire the confidence it took to bring me there, to the scene of the crime, after putting me through the paces for hours on end. But then, maybe proving he could do it was the whole point.

His fingers ran through my damp hair. “You still awake, honey?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

I rested my chin on his chest and gazed into his big, brown eyes. “As a matter of fact, I am.” The corners of his mouth nearly touched his ears. “You’re looking awfully pleased with yourself right now.”

“Oh, believe me, I am. You were offering up some pretty sweet declarations of love for my cock.”

I shook my head in denial. “I can’t be held accountable for anything I say during sex.”

But he was right. I had pretty much waxed poetic for his penis. At one point, I’d told him I was going to buy a bigger purse so I could carry it around with me all day, every day. Even announced that I would find a new TSA-approved carry-on for air travel.



Honestly, I don’t normally have the urge to carry dudes’ dicks around in my bag.

But in my defense, Thatch is a f*cking fantasy in the sack.

His good points?

1. Insatiable endurance.

2. Sexy as f*ck body.

3. Huge and thick schlong.

4. Delicious dirty-talker.

5. His PhD in oral.

See what I mean?

You’d be trolling Amazon for a dick carry-on too.



“It was definitely the first time someone has offered to carry my dick in a bouquet as they walked down the aisle. Honestly, I’m flattered,” he teased.

I shrugged. “Well, he does send me flowers. I’d say it’s a normal progression for him to become the flowers.”

And motivate you to marry him, my * screamed.

Whoa. Slow down there, * Promiser.

He chuckled in response, causing his chest to vibrate against mine.

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling and laughing along with him. Hands down, Thatch had the best laugh. It was husky and deep and downright infectious.