The Billionaire and the Virgin (Billionaires and Bridesmaids #1)(60)

So yeah, he was a selfish bastard, but that was what she wanted, right? So he gave her one last quick kiss and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to shed his clothes and seek out a condom. He tore the package open and rolled it down his aching length, then headed back into the room with Marjorie.

She’d sat up on the bed, and was gazing at him with anticipation in her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face, but it only made her lovelier in his eyes. He moved back to the bed and eased her back down onto her back, and began to kiss her again, his knee moving between her legs to separate them. She kissed him back, at first hesitant, then growing with excitement as the kisses grew more intense. When she made a soft noise in her throat, he reached down between them and stroked his fingers through the wet, velvety petals of her *. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” she breathed against his mouth. “I’m yours, Rob.”

“I know,” he murmured, and flicked at her clit before sinking two fingers deep. She took him with a little sigh, her hips arching, and so when he stroked in again, he added a third finger, attempting to stretch her for his cock. She clung to his neck and her mouth locked onto his, kissing him over and over again.

Then, he could put it off no longer. His cock ached with need, and her cunt was slippery around his fingers, and the girl in his arms was sighing and panting with desire. Rob pushed his weight on top of her and then braced his arms against her sides. He spread her long legs wide and then lay his hips against hers until his cock was pressing against her sex.

Her eyes widened. “Oh. That feels . . .”

“Good?” He took his dick in one hand and rubbed it up and down through her folds, lubricating it with her wetness. “Are you ready for me?”

She nodded, and her hands went to his neck, the look on her face utterly trusting.

When his cock was wet enough (and he could stand it no longer), Rob put his hand on her inner thigh and pushed her leg back against the bed, spreading her wide for him. Then, guiding his length to her entrance, he fitted the head against her heat and looked back up at her.

“Still okay?”

She bit her lip. “Feels very big.”

“That’s because it is,” he said. “But you’ll take me in. It’ll be delicious and snug and it’ll feel so good that neither of us will be able to stand it.”

“I’m ready, then,” she said in a soft voice.

So he began to push into her. She was still tight, despite his efforts to stretch her to take him. Well-lubricated and wet, but still tight. Pushing his cock into her was an exquisite torture. He inched the head inside, pausing with every breath that she sucked in. Slowly, he fed his length into her until he was about halfway in, and she squirmed against him.

“Hurts,” she whispered.

He was in intense agony, too. His cock was aching madly. But he forced himself to lean in and give her another comforting kiss until she relaxed again, and then he began to slowly stroke into her, pushing himself a little deeper each time.

She moaned, her first encouraging sign in what felt like endless minutes. So he continued to kiss and murmur sweet things against her mouth, even as his hips rocked against hers and he continued to press deeper, and deeper, determined to seat himself fully inside her tight passage. She was squeezing him like a glove, and it felt so f*cking good that it was driving him insane with need.

And then, after what felt like forever, he was in. He was seated to the hilt, his balls resting against her skin. He paused for a moment, reveling in the sensation. Then, he gave his hips a little swivel and looked down at the silent woman underneath him. “How do you feel?”

She was panting, but the panicked look had gone from her face. Instead, she looked thoughtful. “Very full,” Marjorie admitted. “It’s a good feeling. I expected it to hurt more, though.”

“You’re very wet, and I’m very careful,” he told her, then reached down to caress one of her pretty breasts. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to start moving.”

“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’m ready.” And she even gave him a little wriggle of encouragement.

Thank f*cking god. Holding still was killing him. Gazing down at her, Rob carefully worked his hips, pulling out and sinking back in again, ever so slowly. Her flesh was swollen around him, and she was so incredibly tight. It felt amazing for him, but the way she gave a tiny flinch here and there told him that it wasn’t quite amazing for her yet.

He continued to play with her breast as he stroked in and out of her. “Still hurt?”

She shook her head. “It did at first, but it’s gone now. Now it just feels . . . kinda nice.”

Rob chuckled. Only “kinda”? His ego could hardly stand it. “Mind if I speed up?”


“Be my guest,” she said, and then giggled at the inanity of it. “Be my guest to my *.”

He laughed, too, because the look on her face was so beautiful with its happiness. Only Marjorie would get the giggles while he was balls-deep inside her. And it was so f*cking perfect that he couldn’t help himself—this time, when he stroked into her, he wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t slow. He was rough, and he was hard, just like he wanted to be with her.

And her eyes widened and the giggle died. She clung to him tighter.

“Hurts?” he asked.