Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(40)

“Oooh, right. I got distracted.” She laughed. “Guess you’ll have to spank me, huh?” The bed bounced, and her leg brushed against his. She’d flipped onto her stomach. After a moment, she announced, “Hands are now back in place. Do with me as you will.”

“I’m not going to spank you.” Though his hands itched to touch her ass.

“You’re no fun.”

And she was entirely too much fun, he thought to himself. His hands moved to her thigh and he trailed up her leg, then brushed over the fullness of her ass.

She made a pleased noise. “Mmmm. Keep going.”

He groaned at the sheer pleasure of being able to touch her. Both hands went to her ass and he cupped it, kneading her soft flesh. His c*ck ached so f**king much now that it was painful, but he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Nor could he resist sliding a finger between her cheeks and exploring her. He found the wet heat of her sex . . . and she was soaked.

The change in her was immediate. Gretchen moaned and pushed back against his fingers, and one slid deep inside her. Oh, God, she was so hot and wet. Her inner muscles clenched around his finger, and he imagined his c*ck being squeezed by those muscles and—

With a groan, he came. Hot cum splashed inside his boxers—f*ck, he was still in his goddamn boxers—and he withdrew from her to clutch at himself in dismay. He’d tried so hard to keep control and he’d ruined this.

She made a noise of protest as he pulled away. “Hunter?”

He rolled off the bed, humiliated. Damn it. He’d f**ked this up. The front of his boxers clung to him with the evidence of his shame.

“Hunter? Where are you? Please don’t leave.” Her voice was soft.

“I . . . I can’t stay. I . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. I came all over myself like a boy.

“But your touch feels so good. And I ache so bad.” He heard the blankets rustle. “Won’t you come touch me?”

“Gretchen,” he said harshly. “I . . . need to clean up.” There. Now he’d admitted it and she would leave him alone.

“After you clean up, will you come back and finish touching me?”

Astonishment made him turn, even though it was dark and he couldn’t see her face. Wasn’t she embarrassed by his lack of control? “You still want me to touch you?”

“Hey, you got yours. I want to get mine.”

“But that’s not how this works. I wanted to make it good for you.”

“And I intend on you making it good for me,” she said. “No sense in us stopping now if we’re having fun. And I thought we were having fun.”

“Some of us were having too much fun,” he said wryly, her good humor restoring his.

“Oh, my God, did you just make a joke? I should leave you in the dark all the time.”

“Very funny.”

“I know. I’m full of sparkling humor. Sparkling humor and soft, soft skin that you need to come over here and touch.”

He heard the bedsheets rustle again. “I think there’s a stack of towels on the chair by the fireplace. Fix yourself up and come back to me. I’m just going to wait right here.”

Hunter found the stack of towels and stripped off his boxers, then wiped himself off. He still felt a little foolish, but then Gretchen made a needy little moan and his attention riveted back to her.

“Are you coming back?” she asked.

He approached the bed, extending a hand forward once he crossed the room. His hand encountered Gretchen’s upraised flank since she’d changed positions on the bed. Skimming a hand over her, he mentally pictured her new pose—she was now kneeling on the bed, her ass raised in the air, knees spread. Asking—no, begging—for him to touch her.

Hunter groaned.

“Touch me, Hunter. Use your fingers on me.”

He didn’t want to use his fingers—he wanted to use his mouth and taste her sweetness again. He pushed forward, leaning in to skim his lips over her buttock, enjoying her quick, noisy intake of breath. He wanted more of a response from her, wanted her to lose control like he had.

It had suddenly become his new goal.

Hunter nipped at her hip, and she gave a squeak of surprise. That was better. He let his lips trail over her skin, moving toward his goal. He felt her body tense with anticipation when he leaned her forward and skimmed his fingers between her legs, searching for that wet heat he’d felt before.

He knew he’d touched the right spot when he felt that slick clench of muscles in response and felt her entire body jump. Gretchen moaned his name, sounding breathless and wild. He moved his mouth to where his fingers had found her hot core, and he brushed his tongue up against it, tasting her. She tasted wet and tart with need; it was a taste he wanted on his tongue forever.

A shudder racked through Gretchen, and he brushed his tongue against her skin again, seeking her heat.

“Oh, God.” She jerked against him. “Right there. Oh, keep going.” She quivered against him as he continued to work her p**sy with his tongue, stroking inside her and flicking at her sex. She rocked against him wildly, and his fingers dug into her flesh, his excitement building with hers.

“More, Hunter,” she breathed. “I need more.”

He stabbed his tongue into her, pressing forward with every stroke, until she was whimpering against him and little quivers were rocking through her body.