Money Man (King Maker 1) - Page 52

He got out of the car, had my door open, and his hand held out for mine before I could completely process what was happening.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

I was in a fog, but my body wasn’t. I took his proffered hand and got out. It felt even more surreal when we entered the elevator.

He produced a black card he held against a reader. A digital keypad appeared, and he keyed in a code before he pressed his thumb to a square. A voice too serene to be human asked for his name.

“Brinner,” he said, with that amazing accent of his.

“Voice authenticated,” it said, and the elevator began to move without him entering a floor.

“That’s pretty high-tech,” I said.

He pivoted to face me. “Four layers of security, not easy to crack.”

“Why not? If someone had your card, code, and a copy of your fingerprint,” I began.

“The scanner has a heat signature. There must be blood flowing through my veins for that to work. Enough about that. That dress has had me hard all night.”

His hand found the slit as he palmed my thigh. His thumb snapped at the garters I’d worn just for him.

“Fuck, lass. I said I wasn’t going to fuck you, but I lied. I’m going to own your pussy until you beg me to stop.”

He circled a finger around my nub until I was whimpering. Then the elevator stopped. The doors parted into a lavish and spacious apartment. I caught a flash of minimal furniture set on dark wooden floors that led to a panel of windows that lined the wall. Through them a lit-up New York cityscape could be seen. A floating, twisting staircase set to the side led upstairs to places unknown.

I took off in that direction, knowing I wanted to be caught. I crashed into the wall as his big body covered mine.

“You want to play,” he said, voice so deep it came out as a growl.

I wanted his lips on mine, but instead, he teased my ear and down my neck. Then my dress was shoved down so his mouth could consume my breast. With every lick and suck, I squeezed my legs tight, afraid I’d come just that easily. As I climbed toward ecstasy, he knelt. He busied his hands by parting my dress at the slit and shoving aside the scrap of fabric that covered my mound. Then he licked a path from my clit to my opening and back again as I panted with need.

With the perfect amount of suction on my nub and the addition of two perfectly curled and pumping fingers, I came apart, coating him with all my pleasure.

I didn’t think I could stand. But he could. First my coat and then his hit the floor. His nimble fingers worked at freeing me of my dress. It pooled at my feet as he lifted me off mine. I wound my legs around his and buried my face in his neck, afraid my liquid muscles couldn’t hang on.

“It should be my turn,” I whispered.

“We have all night for that,” he promised. “First, I’m going to have you in my bed.”

His bed. Was this real? My eyes were so heavy, I could hardly keep them open as he took me upstairs. All the sleepless nights were catching up to me. And for the first time in years, I felt safe with a man.

He crawled onto the mattress and laid me on the bed underneath him as he hovered above.

“You’re a vision, lass, like you’ve always belonged here.”

He sat back and undid the bowtie at his neck before he began the task of unbuttoning his shirt. When I reached to help, he caught my hand. “Just lie there and let me look at you.”

His request made me want to squirm, self-consciousness easing in like an old friend.

“Part your legs, lass, and remind me how sweet you taste.”

He wedged himself between my thighs as I slowly complied to his request. He snapped the string to my thong, and I opened myself to him, leaving my pussy more exposed.

In one unguarded moment, I gave in to my wants and stroked a hand down my abdomen. I grazed my fingertips over my overly sensitive parts, throwing my head back on a moan.

I lifted up, needing more than ever to touch the bulge in his pants. He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor somewhere. As I went to stroke him through his pants, he captured my wrist and pinned me to the bed with my hands over my head.

“Not yet.”

His throaty words had me writhing underneath him.

“Please,” I begged. “I need to touch you.”

He shook his head. “I want you to watch as I sink my cock into that pretty cunt of yours.” He reached for something on the bed. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep your hands here?”

Tags: Terri E. Laine King Maker Billionaire Romance
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