Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(35)

Hunter looked down at her br**sts, his own breathing speeding in time with hers. Very gently, he circled his cupped hand on her breast, kneading the flesh and catching the nipple between his fingers and plucking at it.

She whimpered, biting her lip and angry at herself for making noise. The look on his face was so incredibly intense that she hated to interrupt—she didn’t want him to stop, not for anything.

He continued to caress her breast and whispered, “What did the letter say again?”

“Um.” She forced her gaze away from him. His fingers were playing on one of her n**ples, coaxing it into an even stiffer peak, and her pulse was pounding at the junction of her thighs. She rocked her h*ps slightly as she shifted to read the letter again, enjoying the feel of his c*ck pressed against her p**sy. She forced herself to focus on the letter. “I think of your lips grazing over my skin.”

“Lips on skin?” He lifted his hand off her breast and began to slowly push up her shirt, seemingly gaining confidence with every moment that passed. He pushed her shirt up around her neck, exposing her bra cups and her belly. He looked down at her in wonder and ran the backs of his fingers over her bare skin, then leaned into kiss the swell of her breast.

She moaned in response. “That feels so good, Hunter. More.”

He licked her flesh, pushing aside the cup of her bra and revealing her aching nipple. “Does he lick her here?”

“I’m sure he does,” Gretchen breathed.

When he leaned close, she arched her back and offered her nipple to him.

He groaned, moving down to take it into his mouth, sucking lightly on her flesh. He ran his tongue over her nipple and whispered, “Tell me what to do—what pleases you.”

“Just keep doing that,” she told him, running her fingers through his hair. She let the letter flutter to the ground, no longer interested in it. Her eyes fluttered closed and she lost herself to the sensation of his mouth on her skin. “God, Hunter, you feel incredible against me.”

“Rip your clothing,” he breathed, and it took her a moment to realize that he was quoting the letter. “Bury my face into your feminine petals.”

His hands were suddenly frantic, tugging at her yoga pants and sliding them down her hips.

She lifted her h*ps to assist, excited. “Yes. Hunter, yes.”

He tore her pants down her thighs, exposing her flesh. Before she could direct him to do anything, he pushed her thighs apart, stretching the fabric around her knees, and buried his face in her aching flesh.

Gretchen gasped, startled at the sudden move. She’d been thinking she’d have to convince him to touch her, but now that it was all laid out in the open, he’d dove upon her like a starving man.

“Ah, f*ck,” Hunter moaned, and she felt his breath on her p**sy. His tongue stroked out and licked her lightly, and then he groaned again. “You taste so good.”

Dear sweet heaven, his mouth on her felt incredible. “Yes. Keep touching me.” Her hands moved to his hair, holding him there.

“Tell me how,” he growled, sending shivers through her body.

“My clit,” she breathed. “Put your tongue there.”

He did, and she almost came off the couch. Sensation flared through her body and she dug her fingernails into his scalp, desperate for the pleasure he offered. “More.”

The licks he gave her were rough and untrained, but there was something raw and delicious about his enthusiasm. She’d wanted this—and him—for what seemed like so very long. When he flicked his tongue against her cl*t and then circled it, she shuddered in response. “Oooh, you’re good at that.”

To her surprise, he stiffened against her. Alarm bells went off in her mind, but before she could encourage him again, he sat up and dragged away from her, breathing hard.

Gretchen opened her eyes, blinking up at him, still throbbing with need. “What’s wrong?”

The look on his face was tortured. His hand moved over the front of his pants, rubbing the length of his c*ck through the fabric and then jerking away again. “I . . . can’t.”

“You can’t?” She gave him a mock pout. “Please, Hunter. You were so good at that.”

He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s not you. It’s just . . . I . . .” He clenched his fists and remained silent.

He what? Wouldn’t last? At the moment, she didn’t care. She just wanted his mouth back on her again, enthusiastically licking away. “You won’t touch me? Don’t you like touching me?”

Hunter gave her such a tortured look that her breath caught in her throat. “Love touching you.”

“Did you feel how wet I was?” she asked him. “I need to come so badly. Won’t you touch me?”

He didn’t move.

It was time for plan B. Her fingers slid to the slick heat of her p**sy. “If you won’t finish me, I guess I’ll have to do it myself, won’t I?”

She heard his sucked-in breath. His gaze riveted on her, lustful and full of need all at once. Encouraged, she slid one fingertip in lazy circles around her clit, shivering when it sent a bolt of pleasure through her body. He watched her as if fascinated, and his hand rubbed against the hard length straining at the front of his pants.

“Touch yourself for me,” she breathed, dipping a finger into the wet well of her sex and then spreading the moisture around her clit, wetting it. Faster and faster, she glided her finger in circles around it, biting her lip as she spiraled closer to her cli**x.