The Billionaire Takes a Bride (Billionaires and Bridesmaids,(78)

She was the luckiest girl on the planet, she really was. And now she was going to give him a show to demonstrate to him just how lucky she felt. So Chelsea put her hands on the hem of her shirt, and slowly tugged it over her head, revealing her bra. She’d only packed sports bras in her bag, since she hadn’t had room for much else, and this was one she’d worn on the track before. Weirdly enough, it was made of gray sportswear and had a Y back and ultra-supportive cups and . . . she felt sexy as hell in it. So she hummed a few notes of a song and then put her hands on the waist of her jeans, then turned around.

She knew Sebastian liked her ass. She had to admit it was a great one. Chelsea unbuttoned her jeans and slowly rolled the fabric down over her butt, pushing it out for his benefit.

“God, that’s pretty,” Sebastian breathed as she peeled the jeans down her legs. “You’re so f*cking beautiful.”

“Are you touching yourself?” she asked, voice light and playful.

“Not yet. Want me to?”

She nodded and dropped the jeans to her feet, then kicked them aside. Now she was in nothing but a pair of sporty panties and her sports bra. She hadn’t dressed to be sexy, but it didn’t matter. The look in Sebastian’s eyes told her plenty. So with another saucy wiggle, she hooked her thumbs to her panties and slid them down her legs, too, turning back around to the front.

He dragged a hand over his mouth, admiring her. “Now the bra.”

There was no sexy way to remove a sports bra, so she just opted for “quick” instead. She shimmied out of it and tossed it to the ground, then grabbed her breasts and jiggled them for his benefit. She was feeling sassier with every article of clothing that came off, and now it was time to start putting on her sexy gear. With a great flourish, Chelsea pulled out one knee sock and sat on the edge of the couch. She lifted her leg and began to slowly roll it on.

He groaned and undid his own jeans. “My cock’s so hard it feels like I’m going to rip the seams.” He adjusted his clothing and then his cock was freed. He stroked his length as she pulled the stocking up to her thigh, then slowly, deliberately put on the other one. “Are you wet, Chelsea, baby? Touch yourself and see.”

She slid a hand between her legs and touched herself. To her surprise and pleasure, she was wet. And she’d barely put on her uniform. Chelsea dragged her fingers up and down her folds, sighing at how good it felt. “Really wet.”

“Show me,” he demanded.

She slid her fingers down to her core and pressed, then pulled her hand away and showed him the wet gleam of her juices.

“Beautiful. Keep touching yourself while you dress, baby. I love to see it.”

She liked to do it. It felt good, and she had the added bonus of performing for him, which was fun. Chelsea bent over her bag and pulled out the next piece of clothing—her teeny, tiny skirt. She snapped it with a flourish of her hands and then adjusted the waist until the snap was at her back. Then, she played with the ruffles before sliding a hand between her legs again. “You like watching me touch myself, Sebastian?”

In response, his hand gripped his cock and pumped it, dragging over the length of it over and over again. “You know I do.”

Her other hand moved between her legs and she cupped her * in front of him. “Skates next or my top?”

“Skates,” he said tightly, dragging his hand over the head of his cock as he worked it. “Want to see your pretty breasts out for a bit longer.”

That was a good idea, she decided, and slid her fingers over her breasts, feeling them. She did have nice breasts. Her nipples responded, tightening, and a little sigh of pleasure escaped her. “You’re right. Skates.” She pulled one out of the bag and tugged it onto her foot. To lace it, she placed her skate on the back of the couch and leaned forward. That gave Sebastian a view from behind as she did so, and it felt wickedly naughty to do it without panties.

Suddenly, his warm body pressed up against her back and she felt his hand slide between her legs. She gasped, a whimper escaping her as his fingers grazed her wet sex and began to stroke her folds. “Couldn’t resist joining in, love,” he murmured. “Keep working on those skates. Don’t let me distract you.”

Her fingers trembled, and she fumbled with the laces as his fingertips brushed over her clit. It was suddenly a lot harder to concentrate, and she moaned when he rubbed a finger up against the entrance to her core, then dipped it inside.

Suddenly, she was tired of playing. She wanted more. More touches, more fingers, more caresses. And she needed him inside her. She wriggled against his hand, encouraging his fingers to go deeper, but he seemed determined to torment her. His hand slid away instead, and he caressed the inside of her thigh.

“Sebastian,” she panted.

“Got your skate on, love?”

Actually, she’d forgotten all about lacing it. She’d forgotten everything except his hands on her. She tried to concentrate, but it was impossible to function when his fingers glided over her folds. “I can’t,” she breathed. “You touching me is too distracting.”

“Shall I stop?”

“No. God, no.” She loved his touch.

His hand slid around her front and cupped her breast. “You smell so good. I forgot how wonderful you smell. What’s your soap this week?”

Her soap? She didn’t have one. “No soap, just me and junk food.”