Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(61)

Anticipation bubbles in my veins as he takes my fingers in his when the doors ping and leads me out.

He uses my key to let us into my room. As soon as the door shuts, he leans me back against it and growls as he sweeps down to push my lips apart again. I part my mouth, groaning when he gives me a toe-curling, soul-crushing kiss that has me liquid against him.

His tongue is hot and wet on mine, and when he groans, the sound pulses through me. Causing another wave of desire to ricochet through my body. He’s so sexy I can barely stand it.

My legs feel gooey as I grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom and pause as soon as we’re inside; I’m starting to undress him when he stops me.

“Elizabeth.” He shakes his finger at the window. “Out there, you’re the boss. In here, I make the rules.”

My heart skips a lustful little kick, but I protest out of conviction. “That’s not fair.”

He slowly lowers the zipper and lets my dress puddle on the floor.

“I’m not playing fair with you.” His eyes darken, those blue devil’s eyes drinking me in, in my naked state, darkening by the second. Darkening as his voice drops lower and lower, gruffer and gruffer. “Not now. Not a month from now.”

A month . . .

I can’t help but wonder if the timeline is deliberate. He said a month. As if he means to keep me bound to him until we aren’t working together anymore.

I refuse to think about letting go when I haven’t really had him in the first place.

“I feel you shutting down on me, and that can’t happen. Not with us.”

His fingers weave through my hair. I hold my breath as he ducks to my neck, and his lips channel more magic than a wizard’s spell. There’s probably nothing I wouldn’t do to finish out the night with James Rowan fucking me, taking me to new places, as he gives me the ride of my life.

He holds me by the back of my head, pinning me in place as he drags his lips up my chin and toward . . . god, yes.

Another burning kiss turns my knees to mush. I want him inside me, so desperately I might ask him to skip this whole thing. But I’m having too much fun for that—not that sex isn’t fun, but this body-to-body grind?

THIS is foreplay, and by god, I want to enjoy it.

His hands fall to my hips, and he looks down at his stretching cock, blatantly visible through the open zipper, teasing me with the heat of his arousal, teasing himself with the heat of mine.

“I’m on the pill,” I blurt, perhaps ruining the moment.

“No worries. I’m not going to need to run out for a condom tonight.” He pulls a strand from his slacks pocket.

I whistle. Impressed. “Somebody was confident.”

“Hopeful.” He drops them to the ground and grabs me closer, then lowers his head and kisses me until I see stars, his mouth working me over like the only thing that matters is showering me with complete adoration, and if this is adoration? I can’t wait to see him when he’s full-on committed to the cause.

God, just the thought makes me clutch all over.

I can practically feel my freedom slipping away. In some ways, we’ve been dancing long before this night. Dancing around the issue of him and me. Our differences . . . and our insane pull toward each other.

If we sleep together . . . when we sleep together . . . everything will change. I should be running scared.

As much as I’d like to take a few minutes to figure out how I feel about that, I can’t.

His attention to detail as he kisses and laps at me is like a sexual awakening, a movement that’s all about the experience, hunger, need.

I want him.

I can’t resist him. I won’t.

I want everything that I see in his eyes.

James

I kiss her, devour her mouth like it’s my last taste.

I’m in too deep, but there’s no turning back now.

Her body against mine is ruining me for all other women. The way she moves against me, the way her kiss melts my heart.

I can’t help myself.

There’s no help for a man like me with a woman like this.

There’s just Lizzy and me. Us.

And that’s scary as fuck.

“Are you sure?” I ask as she leads me to the bedroom.

Since when have I asked a woman if she’s sure, and when have I ever cared? I always felt like if things were moving along at a good pace, then a woman would stop me if she changed her mind.

And I sure don’t want THIS woman to change her mind, and yet I ask?

“I want you to be sure.”

And ask again?

What the fuck, fucker!

She nods, and I won’t say another word. I want to enjoy this moment, this sweet and fucking hot-as-hell moment.

The moonlight peeking through the sheer curtains provides a perfect view of her. I drag her closer. Watching her chest move quickly up and down as she throws herself at me and I catch her in the air, boost her by the ass to my mouth. Her lips meet mine, and she guides the kiss, her mouth parting for my tongue as her sexy little body rocks against mine.

“Promise me you won’t treat me like I’m fragile,” she begs me.

Fuck me, my brain is spinning a thousand miles an hour. I want to make love to her and fuck her at the same time. I want her to scream so loud everyone in this building knows she’s mine.

I scoop her up closer and carry her to her bed. “You’re not fragile, sweetheart. You’re rare, and that makes you pure gold.”