Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(32)

“Are you done?” I say, unable to remove the smile from my face.

“Done with what?” he starts to smile, but doesn’t seem to want to risk giving himself away unless I’m really done being angry.

“Done with your stupid rules?”

“Yes,” he nods, and I see it in his eyes—he’s telling me the truth. He had to work things out. This was his way of giving us the chance to get to know each other, without the incredible distraction of wanting to f*ck each other’s brains out. I just couldn’t see it until right now.

“Thank God that’s over,” I cry, and then I’m clinging to him in his arms, our bodies pressed together, and his mouth is on mine, hot and needy and dominating, and everything is right with the world.





Chapter 24

Christian





Once I see that she’s forgiven me for how f*cking weird I’ve been acting, something inside me breaks loose. It’s simultaneously a feeling of freedom, of seeing the light as you emerge from a dark room; it’s like a ship gliding into its place at the dock, finally secure again after being tossed around on the ocean.

I just couldn’t bring her back to that place.

I couldn’t do it.

As much as it terrifies me, the things she says, the memories she brushes up against when she speaks to me, I can’t fake it like that. Not with her. Not any longer. That’s off the table.

The more I learn about her, the more I see how strong she is. How fierce. How even in the face of uncertainty, she didn’t lose her cool.

Not that I mind when she does, especially in bed.

I wish it hadn’t taken so long for me to struggle with my goddamn choices.

After I saw Jax and Cate at the Swan, I knew that something had to change. I knew I was going to have to set aside my rules of engagement, set aside the fake penthouse, set aside all of it, and just be with her.

She’s probably right. I should have taken her on a date and asked her all the same questions, and I will. I absolutely f*cking will do that. But I had to pull back a little in order to come to terms with the magnitude of what’s happening.

The magnitude of what I feel for her.

She’s hot for me, ravenous for me, all over me. She claws at my clothes, tearing a couple of buttons loose in the process, and I can’t wait another moment to see her body again. I pull her shirt roughly over her head and yank at the clasp of her bra, exposing her perfect breasts. She stifles a gasp with her hand when I lean down and take one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it, and then my hand is back on her neck, pulling her into me so I can taste her, show her that she’s mine.

She’s mine.

No matter what happens—no matter what kind of disaster this ends in—I’m not going to give up another second with her.

Still kissing her fiercely, I back her up and lift her onto the bed. She spreads herself wide for me and I can’t help but grin for a moment before I start trailing wet kisses down over her breasts, down over her stomach, and then continue lower.

“Is this for me?” I say, putting a hand on either side of her hips.

Her eyes are black with desire, and I see something in them that I only see when we’re together like this. When I drop my voice to use a certain tone with her. She’s stripped down to another level, needing me, wanting me, wrestling with her own need to be in control.

“Yes,” she whispers, and spreads her legs another inch apart, begging me without words to take her. To consume her. To claim her again and again.

I don’t have to say a thing to give her what she wants.

I just lean down and inhale her scent, then drag my tongue firmly over her soaking folds, lapping up the juices there.

Holy f*ck, she tastes amazing.

Quinn’s body arches underneath me, her hips tilting up to press more of her against my face as I lick and suck and press my tongue into her wetness.

She presses her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her moans. It’s difficult to remember, down here between her legs, that she has a roommate to be considerate of. Carolyn’s been my friend for years, but right now I don’t give a f*ck that she might hear us.

Quinn’s desire rises to a fever pitch, her hips jerking as she comes into my mouth in another burst of sweetness.

Then I’m pulling her toward me, putting her on her feet, her legs still quivering, and I bend her over her bed, pressing her breasts into the soft covers.

“You’re mine,” I growl, and underneath my hands I feel a minuscule motion of muscles that signals to me that she agrees, she wants this, she loves this. Whatever way I choose to dominate her, she’s prepared to take it.

I need to be in her.

Now.

I line myself up with her soaked slit at the same time that I catch both of her wrists and pin them at the small of her back. At the pressure of my hands on her wrists she lets out a deep moan, and in the sound is all her longing and need and a desperate request to f*ck her, f*ck her right now.

In one thrust, I’m buried deep in her wetness. There’s not an ounce of resistance—she’s so open for me that the only friction comes from the size of me pressing against her walls.

“Yes,” she pants, the word a drawn-out hiss as I get into a rhythm, f*cking her deeply, claiming her, for now, forever.