The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(38)

She nodded, anticipation squirming in her tummy.

“I want to strip you bare and lay you flat on your back on this couch.”

He reached for her sweater and the shirt she wore beneath it and whipped both over her head. She gasped when the cool air in the room hit her feverish skin.

“I’ll start by kissing your breasts,” he said, tugging off her boots and dropping them to the floor.

Meanwhile, her brain was racing to comprehend how good his mouth on her breasts would feel.

He made short work of her jeans before tearing them down her legs. “Then I’ll move down to your belly”—her socks went next—“and tease the inside of your thighs with the tip of my tongue.”

And now she couldn’t breathe.

He smiled at her reaction—unadulterated want she had no doubt was reflecting in her eyes. He wrapped his hands around her and unhooked her bra. Her gasp this time had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with her nerves. This was it. Really, really it. No running from her desires this time unless she wanted to stand stark naked in the hallway.

“Breathe.” He took off her bra and she breathed, feeling his eyes dance along her bare breasts though he still hadn’t touched them.

“But the real fun will come”—he worked her panties down her thighs, keeping his eyes on hers as he slipped them from her legs—“when you open your legs and let me kiss you there.” His gaze snaked down her body and she pressed her thighs together.

“I’m really bad at that, too,” she said quickly. Because her ex hadn’t enjoyed going down on her, and she couldn’t blame him. It had never seemed very sexy to her. She’d only ever panted and moaned to make him think she was done.

“Then that’s where we’ll start.” Tag’s mouth parted into a grin that was positively drugging. He kissed her and she caught his head, feeding her fingers into his hair as he lifted and laid her flat on the couch. Her heart thudded out an SOS.

This was a bad idea.

“No,” she said between kisses. He backed off immediately with his mouth, but his fingers pinched and pulled each of her nipples. A ripple of satisfaction tore through her, and before she’d meant to, her back was arching and she was crying out in pleasure.

“Funny, that didn’t sound like a no.” He gave her an affected, confused expression and moved his fingers between her legs.

“Tag…” But no words followed.

“Yes or no, Rachel.” He hesitated and left her dangling from the ledge where desire met danger. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

His insistent touch was too much for her to deny. He wanted to know her, and she wanted to know him. Like, biblically.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Have you imagined me here?” He stroked her center, finding her clit and moving over the tender bud. His touch was rough, firm—absolutely perfect. “It’ll feel like this.” Her eyes shut, her head falling back as she enjoyed his words as much as his touch. “Except hot. Wet.”

She loved the way he talked. The way he guided her, never making her feel forced, only pampered.

“Tag.” Her voice was a whimper and she let her legs fall open as he continued to finger her. He felt so much better than her own hands that she thought if he only did this, it might be enough.

“I know, sweetheart. You need it, don’t you? I’m going to give it to you. And you’re going to let go. Put your ankle on my shoulder.”

Her eyes flew open. “What? I can’t!”

She’d be open and exposed and—

But then he did it for her, giving her no choice. He placed a few torturous kisses on first one inner thigh and then the other as he’d promised.

“Breathe, Dimples.” His warm breath rolled over her flesh as he lowered his mouth and though she breathed, her arms were strung tight, fists gripping the fabric of his sofa cushions.

Then his tongue slicked along her swollen center and she let out a moan that relaxed her muscles on contact.

Yes, yes, yes.

He continued the torturous assault, reaching up to gently pinch her nipples in tandem with his flicking tongue. She forgot about faking. The pleasured sounds coming from her mouth were the real deal. Real and raw and desperate. She’d never felt this free, this good, not ever.

A sharp, thin breath came from her mouth followed by, “Tag, please.”

He took her plea to heart, increasing the speed of his tongue, pinching her nipples again. With one powerful arm, he held her thighs open, gently pinning her so she was unable to do anything but lie there and writhe, and…

Oh, God.

Spots dotted her eyelids, sparking into miniature fireworks that blotted out her mind; then she was coming, her orgasm cresting into a wave before crashing her to earth and leaving every bone in her body liquid.

She was vaguely aware of Tag moving, resting her legs on the couch, and reaching for his shirt. When she opened her eyes, she saw him swipe his face with his discarded Henley.

His smile was as satisfied as if he’d also had a flooring orgasm.

“Wow. I—you’re good at that.” Surprisingly she didn’t feel heat flush her cheeks. She was too pleased to do anything but smile.

“So are you.” He winked. “You taste good, Dimples.”