The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(51)

“Yes, you are.” This time he swung me up into his arms. I cried out only because the move surprised me. Rob popped out of the car and called out for confirmation that I was okay.

I waved him away.

Please, if there is a God in the heavens, could I have this moment go uninterrupted?

Sebastian took the steps two at a time, swung the door of the house open, then slammed it shut behind him with his foot. The foyer was probably impressive; I couldn’t say. The moment his mouth claimed mine, we could have been anywhere.

I dropped my purse. He lowered me almost until my feet hit the floor, then hiked my skirt up to my waist. No further encouragement needed, I hopped up and wrapped my legs around his waist while digging my hands into his hair.

Utter abandon. His hands gripped my ass and ground me against him. I opened my mouth wider for him and writhed against him.

My back hit the wall, and I gave myself over to the sheer joy of his touch, his scent, the way he bent me to his will while adoring me at the same time. As he kissed his way down my jaw, I closed my eyes and arched closer, loving how hard and ready his cock was as it strained to be freed. So big. So needed inside me.

There was no gentleness, and I loved the roughness.

He pulled my blouse free from my skirt and yanked it over my head rather than unbuttoning it. My pretty little bra hit the floor seconds later. But, oh God, I did not miss either. His tongue was sinfully talented. He teased my breasts, licking, circling, nipping at them gently until I thought I might orgasm from that alone.

One of his hands slid forward, pushed beneath the lace of my panties, and dipped inside my folds. I was wet and ready, but he wasn’t rushing. He moved up and down, deeper into my slit until his fingers found my clit.

If his tongue was talented, his fingers were pure magic. Classes should be taught on this subject. Really, men would get a lot more time behind the wheel if they knew how to drive like this. When I thought it couldn’t get better, he slipped a finger inside me, so, so deep inside me, and did some circular motion with it that sent a wave of heat through me.

“Open your eyes for me, baby. Look at me when you come.”

Our eyes met, and I gasped for breath as one of his fingers swirled inside me while his thumb teased my clit. He raised his head from my breasts and kissed his way back up to my mouth. Our tongues intertwined. My sex clenched around his finger, and the strongest orgasm I’d ever felt rocked through me.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I cried out as I climaxed.

“Oh, we’ll get to that,” he promised in that deep voice that was a caress all on its own.

I clung to him as I came back to reality. He shifted a few feet over and set me on a marble tabletop. I braced myself, hoping I hadn’t knocked the mirror off the wall behind me, then stopped giving a shit about the mirror when he slid my shoes and then my panties off.

Right there, only a few feet inside the door, Sebastian spread my legs, sank to his knees, and showed me what oral sex could be. There was no embarrassment, no awkwardness. He dove into my sex like a man who loved every part of a woman and, in loving those parts, had learned what to do with them. He spread my lips and tickled at my clit with his breath. He suckled, plundered, used the stubble on his chin to drive me even wilder.

And then, when I was certain I had died and moved on to a better place, his fingers returned—two this time. Oh God. So deep. So confident.

I was climbing that wonderful crest toward another orgasm, but I savored my trip back to it. Nothing that good should be rushed to. Especially if rushing meant he would stop doing what I’d waited my whole life for someone to.

Then . . . oh . . . I couldn’t hold back. I came again, and it was so fucking good I cried out triumphantly like someone making their first touchdown. He was smiling when he raised his face. “I hate to do this, baby, but we have to finish upstairs. I wasn’t thinking when I put the condoms in the master bedroom.”

“I have some,” I said in a breathless rush.

His eyes burned hotter. “Where?”

“My purse,” I said, not caring about anything past having him inside me, filling me, taking this where we both were dying for it to go.

My bag had opened during the drop, and the large box of condoms was prominently displayed through the top of it. “One hundred,” he murmured. “I like the way you think.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I growled, then laughed at the surprised look on his face. “It’s been a long time.”

He gave me a deep, toe-curling kiss that brought a flush to my cheeks. Then he stepped back, ripped open the box, claimed what we needed, undid his belt, released his huge cock, sheathed it, and stepped back between my legs.

Fully clothed.

Porn-movie hot.

Dirty Dancing if it had been porn hot.

He hauled me up so my legs wrapped his waist again. Two orgasms in, I melted in his arms. I gave myself completely over to him. When he drove into me, it was with a force that made me gasp, then cry out for him to do it again, deeper.

It was wild. It was violent. I don’t know if he knocked the small table over or if I did, but the crash of it to the floor just made it more exciting. This was how I’d always dreamed of being taken. Back to the wall, I clung to him as he pounded into me. He turned so his back was to the wall, and I rose and lowered myself onto him with a force that took him so deeply into me it almost hurt.

We turned again, and he controlled the depth and the pace.