Billionaire's Escort - Page 36

I took my time, letting the water pour down my body, washing away the sweat. I closed my eyes and rolled my head back to let the water drip down my hair. I could stay in there forever, letting the soft stream flow down my chest and over my stomach.

I heard the sliding glass door open, and a pair of hands grasped my shoulders. Jake kneaded my muscles and moved his thumbs down my back. He was a master. His fingers flowed like water, a sensual wave that melted the te

nsion away.

“I love the way you look when you’re wet,” he whispered in my ear. I could feel his hard cock resting against my crack. He pressed me up against the wall and let his hands slowly travel down the curve of my back. He knew just where touch me, and he was never rough or domineering. He never dug into the wrong spot.

Instead, he focused on the soft, neglected places where I needed him to go while his lips moved down the back of my neck. He pressed his hips in, and I bent forward with my hands up on the slippery wall. There was no bracing myself against it. He was a force of nature, driven by an insatiable hunger. The man had no limit. He could go as long as he wanted to, as often as he wanted to.

He wrapped his arm around my stomach and shoved his cock between my thighs. It was slippery and passed easily through my lips, where he rested his head on my clit. He held his hard length, moving it up and down while his other hand cupped my breast.

His body pressed against mine. His chest rested against my back, both arms wrapped around me. He slid closer to my opening and pushed himself through. His head rested inside me, ready to burst through while his lips moved down my neck.

He pushed in slowly, driven by my shuddering cry. When he pulled back, he let his head rest at the entrance, then slammed in so fast that I jolted. He wasn’t going to take his time. I could sense his desire. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and he was losing control, growling as he drove past, hit my spot, then back again.

The water pounded down my back, slid over my hips, and combined with the warmth of his body. The tempo was unbearable, so forceful and animalistic. I wasn’t sure I could take it, but I needed it.

He pounded in and out of me. His fingers twirled around my nipples. His cock hit my clit, and I shuddered. The force of his movements combined with the heat building inside me. It was ready to force its way out from between my trembling legs.

He slammed in and let it rest with a harsh grunt. The warm stream that shot out caught my breath, and I was lost in the wave that emanated out from between my legs, down my thighs, and up over my stomach.

He let his cock sit where it belonged for a moment, then pulled out. When I turned around, he rubbed soap on his chest, then his shoulders. I couldn’t believe how big he was. He seemed smaller with his clothes on, adorable even, but that was deceptive.

He rubbed soap over my body, my shoulders, back, and hips, then moved onto my chest. When the water washed it away, he gave me a mischievous smile and bent down to suck on my nipple. He pulled the skin in and played his teeth over the tip while his hand moved down my back, over my hips. He dug his finger in between my legs and pulled it over my clit.

I already trembled, and he wasn’t done. He circled my clit, then moved up the tip. I felt my lips trembling and my legs shaking. The wave came on so fast, I wasn’t ready when it burst through me. I threw my head back. “Jesus,” I cried.

“Oh, multiples,” he said, laughing. His cock was bright red and hard when he turned the water off.

His phone sat on the vanity, playing the sound of a waterfall. He dried his hands on a towel and snatched it up. “Is it ready?” he asked, then paused for an answer. “Great, we’ll be down in a moment. He went to hang up. “Oh,” he added. “Make sure Starla’s occupied, will you? Thanks.”

“Starla?” I asked.

“She’s the cook that looked like she was ready to rip your head off.”

“Business and pleasure,” I said.

He handed me a towel. “She honestly didn’t seem like the type to get jealous.”

I started to dry off. He did get around. The women had been right about that, and he talked about it so casually. It was a little unsettling to think that he could go through women so quickly. I had to remind myself that it didn’t matter. This was business, not pleasure. No matter how good it felt. I didn’t care so much about the way he was with women. I wanted to know what drove him, what made him the man he was, and why he had such an aversion to love. I didn’t want to ask, though. He rarely talked about himself, and I knew he did that for a reason.

When we walked downstairs, the smell of boiling lobster poured out of the kitchen into the dining room, where a bottle of white wine and a basket of rolls had been set up. Jake pulled my chair out and waited for me to sit down before he took his seat.

“I’m sure you’re going to love the lobster. These ladies know what they’re doing.”

“I haven’t had lobster in years. I’m kind of excited. Thanks.” I blushed.

“I don’t mind showing you a good time,” he said, and smiled.

The talkative chef came out pushing a cart with two platters. She set them down in front of me and pulled the lid off so the smell hit me in the face. My mouth started to water. “Oh,” I groaned and broke off a piece. The meat was succulent and salty with the perfect freshly-caught taste.

He watched my expression when I took a bite. It was like he wanted me to be satisfied. He didn’t care about his food. He was barely eating. This was about giving me a taste of the finer things. I couldn’t have been more grateful. He provided me with the escape I needed.

When I was with him, I wasn’t waiting for my father to die or worrying whether my mother would lose her mind from working too much. I was able to enjoy myself and take part in things I never would’ve seen otherwise. And I loved the attention.

When he ate, he kept looking up at me, back down at his plate, and up again. He didn’t go more than a few seconds without glancing up. It was flattering. No man had ever appreciated me the way he did. I tried to quell those thoughts and focus on my food, but the wine was creeping in, and we were pulling closer. He leaned in, I scooted up, and our eyes naturally gravitated towards one another, until he stood up and walked behind me.

“You still hungry?” he asked. He kneaded my shoulders.

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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