Breaking the Billionaire's Rules(54)

She takes it off and flings it in true Mia style. It lands on the couch.

I stand, running my hands over her hips. “So beautiful.”

She gives me a wicked look over her shoulder, and I’m so overcome with affection, I forget how to breathe. Just her standing there naked is all my fantasies from that lost summer coming true, but so much better. She goes to slip off her shoes, but I stop her. “No, no, no, no. Keep the shoes on,” I growl.

“I can’t wear shoes in there.”

I wrap my arms around her from behind, slide my hand down over her pussy. One stroke and her whole body quivers. In her ear I whisper, “Bad news. We’re not gonna make it that far.”

She gasps as I stroke again.

I hold her more tightly. “You’re so wet for me,” I say. “I love how you get wet for me so fast. Almost as fast as I get hard for you. Almost.” I finger her some more, waiting for the feeling of her melting in my arms.

“See that table over there? I’m going to bend you over that table, and you’re going to let me do what I need to do.”

She turns all the way around now, with a hazy look in her eyes. “Yeah?”

I lower my voice. “You want me to describe how I’m going to fuck you?”

“Yeah, Hilton.” She pushes my jacket off my shoulders. “I want the details.”

I kiss her the way she seems to like—soft and slow, though there’s nothing soft and slow about how I want to take her.

“I’m going to hold your hair in my fist and press you right onto that table. It’s cool marble, but you’ll warm it up with your sweaty little body, because I’m going to be working you so hard.”

I slide my hands over her chest, her hips, learning her curves, the silky warmth of her skin.

“I’m not just gonna fuck you. I know from last night you like a little something extra over your clit, and it’s the perfect position for that. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll forget how to meow.”

“That’s a tall order,” she whispers huskily.

I hoist her up; her legs lock around my waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like she was always meant to be flush against me. I carry her over to the table and put her down, threading my fingers through her soft curls before I fist her hair at the nape of her neck. Her eyes go unfocused as I tighten my grip.

“Undo me,” I whisper.

I kiss her while she fumbles at my pants. I want her hands on me again. I loved the reverent way she touched my cock last night. The way she kissed it.

She takes me in her hand and squeezes.

“So good,” I whisper. “That’s how hard I am for you. I’ll get even harder once I’m inside that pussy of yours. I’m gonna make you come so hard, your knees might give out. But I’ll hold you. I need you upright for how I’m gonna do you.”

I spin her around. There’s nothing gentle about the way I press her down on the table. She makes little begging sounds as I push aside her folds, press one finger in, then another. “This pussy,” I grate. She angles up her hips as I press myself in. As I lose myself in her.

She cries out. I slide my hands all over her back. “I gotcha, baby.”

I cover her, fucking her. I reach around and do her, lost in the sounds of her pleasure. Lost in her. Never have I lost myself in a woman so completely.



* * *



Some time later, we’re in the tub. I have her foot. She has the view. “Well-fucked is a good look on you,” I say.

Her smile gets me in a way I can’t describe. Her smile draws me to her. Across the room, across the bed, across the dark bubbly water. I slide my hand up her calf, smooth and warm.

“You’re just saying that because I’m naked,” she says.

“So not true.”

She reaches over the side and grabs one of the Italian chocolates a design house sent over. She closes her eyes and moans as she lets it melt in her mouth.

“I’ll never get sick of watching you enjoy things.”

“That works because I’ll never get sick of enjoying things. Especially you things.”

I massage the ball of her foot.

“You are spoiling me,” she says. “You are ruining me…”

“For other guys? That’s the plan.”

The silence stretches long, punctuated by horns honking below. The ambient noise of Fifth Avenue.

“Have I modulated my mercenary carnivorous image with you yet?”

She opens her eyes and gazes at me from across the steam. Like she has a thousand thoughts. What?

“We’re actually working on it. Not to change the Max Hilton persona, but adding a corporate responsibility dimension.”

“I’m not talking about dimensions of your persona, exactly.”

Something inside me twists. “What?”

“Well, the book. The pickup book.”

“What? The book? It’s ancient history. I don’t think anybody even reads that book anymore.” I move onto the next toe.

“Oh, people read the book. People take it to heart. It’s not good. It teaches guys how to be jerks.”

This gives me pause. The book has always had haters. I tend to ignore them. “It’s designed to help awkward men have confidence.”