The Billionaire's Matchmaker(31)

The words whispered against her mouth were every bit as sensual as the request. He didn’t give her time to think, though. He reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head. Her red lace bra greeted him.

He smiled. Caught her gaze. “Pretty.”

Then he kissed her again. One hand held her head. One hand breezed along her skin, to her back, and snapped open her bra as if it were no trouble, no challenge, at all. Her breasts fell free, and he broke the kiss to take one straining nipple into his mouth.

Her knees buckled. He slid his arm around her back to brace her as he moved them toward the black sofa. After that, everything became a blur. As his tongue twirled around her other nipple, he reached for the snap of her jeans. He released her to get rid of her jeans and panties but when he returned to kiss her again, his jeans were also gone. His erection pressed against her thigh.

Nothing had ever felt so wonderful, and she was abundantly glad she was on the pill. Just the thought of him naked above her sent arousal careening through her veins. Through her sexual haze, she felt him push her thighs apart and enter her.

Sweet bliss filled her. Her swollen femininity wept with welcome for him. He moved in and out, intensifying the heavenly tension, and suddenly her insides exploded in an orgasm that sent ripples to her toes.

He cried out in his own release.

They lay there for thirty seconds before Marney came down to earth. She couldn’t remember how the seduction began or much of anything about it except that she’d never felt that kind of arousal in her life.

And that she hadn’t done anything—hadn’t even had the presence of mind to touch him.

He pushed himself off her, left for a few seconds then returned to the sofa and sat beside her. Blissfully naked, he reached for the ladle and dished out a bowl of soup for each of them, and then handed her a spoon.

“Thank you.” Her voice squeaked. Every muscle and bone and tendon and ligament of her body felt different. They hummed with life and energy, as if they hadn’t really been alive before.

He dug into his soup. She slid her spoon into hers. She wasn’t exactly mad at herself. Who could be angry after the best sex of their life? But she hadn’t done what she’d come here to do. Find out about him. And she wasn’t entirely sure how they’d ended up having sex…except maybe that she’d been ogling him again. He’d known she wanted him, so he’d taken her.

Although, it wasn’t as if she’d put up a fight.

She ate five bites of soup. Naked. Sitting on a couch with a guy with whom she’d already made love, but didn’t really know.

“This soup is excellent.” He finished a whole bowl and dished out another.

Sex obviously gave him an appetite. Who said she hadn’t found out anything about him?

Damn it. Stop. You can’t be an idiot about this. You have to do what you came here to do.

“So…Um…” She set her bowl on the coffee table, glanced up into his perfect blue eyes, and totally lost her train of thought.

He smiled at her. “So…um…what?”

The little hum she now recognized as acute arousal started up in her again. She had to talk fast if she was going to talk at all.

“I actually wanted to talk a little bit. I brought the soup over to be neighborly, but I came here to talk.”

He frowned. “I thought you’d considered what I’d said last night and made up your mind to sleep with me.” He pointed at the soup pot. “I assumed you’d used the soup as an icebreaker.”

She reddened to the roots of her hair. If that wasn’t proof that they had communications issues, she didn’t know what was.

He set his bowl on the coffee table and slid his thumb across her chin. “You had a little bit of soup there.”

His voice was deep and husky. His blue eyes warm and seductive. Her gaze fell to his chest and followed the trail of soft black hair to his brand new erection. She swallowed. It looked as if he was feeling exactly the same thing she was…a need for more.

She bought her gaze to his and he slid his hands to her nape, tilted her face, and kissed her again.

This time there was no hesitation. And this time she wasn’t going to be a rag doll. Her hands fell to his chest and slid down to his navel, simply enjoying the silky feel of the dusting of black hair and firm muscle. As if playing a game of follow the leader, he slid his hands from her breasts to her lower abdomen.

She slid her hands up.

He slid his hand up.

Sweet desire rippled through her. And so did an unexpected burst of boldness. They’d already made love once. Why be shy? Why deny herself?

Her hands moved down again, but this time they didn’t stop. She smoothed both along the sides of his erection and back up to the top. She bent down and traced her tongue along the tip.

He groaned and skimmed his hands down her torso. Following her lead, he didn’t stop at her tummy, but traced a line to the fluffy mound of hair beneath it. He found her sensitive nub, circled it, then lowered his head and glided his tongue over it.

She about shot off the sofa, but he didn’t linger. He shifted and brought both hands to the sides of her face and kissed her again, long and deep. Somehow she ended up straddling him on the sofa as they kissed, her hands at his shoulders, his hands cupping her behind. But one of his hands slipped from her butt to her sex. He slid one finger inside her, then two. When she groaned with ecstasy, he rolled them onto the sofa and entered her again.