Paris with the Billionaire - Page 36

He grips it firmly, possessively, so that I know my skin will be red under his touch.

I lean even closer to him, my breathing getting short, my chest going tight.

“I’m ready,” I whimper.

His eyes widen for a moment, and then he smirks through a shivering growl.

“Don’t play games with me,” he says, leaning forward, his whole body throbbing and pulsing.

I can track the lines of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt, the way they expand like there’s a furnace inside of him.

“I mean it,” I whimper. “I want it. Just don’t be disappointed—”

I giggle and squeal as he bolts to his feet, putting one arm under my legs and bracing my back with the other.

Before I know it, he’s got me cradled against his chest, carrying me in a way I never dreamed I’d be handled.

I feel weightless as he walks toward the balcony door.

“Where are we going?” I laugh in delight.

“Where do you think?” he growls, beast-like. “The goddamn bedroom.”

I squeal when he drops me onto the silk sheets, the mattress bouncing beneath me.

He looms over the bed, standing over me with his hands hanging at his sides like weapons he’s itching to use, his quicksilver eyes flitting up and down me in unrestrained desire.

“Fuck, I need to see you,” he pants, leaning down and bringing his hands to my hips.

I sit up to help him as he pulls my dress up, lifting my arms so he can pull it over my head. I’m achingly aware of my body, both in good and bad ways.

I can feel my clit burning and singing, and I can feel my womb throbbing and rejoicing.

But I can also feel my size, the way my body shivers.

But then Forrest steps back and gazes down at me again, and this time I don’t feel any self-consciousness at all.

I feel…

“Beautiful,” he snarls, completing the sentence for me. “Everything about you is so damn perfect. Bend over. I need to see that ass. I need to see that sweet pink slit.”

“Like this?” I moan, climbing onto all fours.

“Now—stick your ass out. Arch your back.”

“Like this?” I moan, following his commands as best I can.

I look over my shoulder to see his fingers twitching, his eyes glued to my ass.

“Fuck, you’re so damn hot. That ass was made for spanking, for biting, for using in any damn way I want. Tell me to spank you, Fiona. Moan for it.”

“Spank me, Forrest,” I cry.

He brings his hand down in a stinging kiss of pleasure on my ass cheek, more a playful tap than a real spank. I love that we can exist in this place, between kinkiness and understanding that I’m not going to instantly be a porn star in bed.

“Hmm, that feels juicy,” he growls.

He reaches down and smooths his hands over my ass cheeks, softly at first, and then applies more pressure as I start to twitch and buck my hips.

His fingers skirting so close to my sex—it’s driving me crazy.

He grabs my panties and pulls them slowly down, tickling my skin and whispering against my sex. I shiver against his touch, sticking my ass out even more as he inches them further and further down toward my knees.

I feel every single moment of the pleasure, euphoric sensations blistering across my skin and making my toes curl.

“Fuck,” he snarls, once he’s pulled my panties over my feet. “I need to take you from behind. I know it’s your first time. But I need to see those ass cheeks crashing against me. I need to see you thrusting those hips for me.”

“Do it,” I moan, squeezing my thighs together so hard I’m sure my pussy is going to explode. “Do it, do it, do it.”

“Are you sure?” he growls, his voice shivering.

“Yes,” I cry. “I want it however you want it, Forrest.”

“Goddamn, you’re perfect,” he growls.

I gasp when he brings his finger to my hole, moving it around in small circles that drive me further and further into carnal madness.

Finally, he pushes his finger inside of me and I collapse forward, my breasts pressing into the silk sheets.

“It’s so hot,” I pant. “Oh, fuck—it’s electric, Forrest. It’s … ah, ah, ah.”

He pumps his finger in and out of my hole, fucking me with his hand, his knuckles pressing into my ass cheeks over and over with pulsing pleasure.

“Come for me,” he snarls. “And then you get your prize, your horny perfect thing. Then you get to feel my massive cock opening that virgin slit as wide as it can go. You get to feel my seed pumping into you as your womb greedily drinks up every single drop.”

“Ah,” I gasp, biting down on the sheets to stop myself from screaming.

He pauses with his finger inside of me, his fingertip pressed against a sweet spot deep within my sex.

Tags: Flora Ferrari Billionaire Romance
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