Starlight (The Morgans of New York) - Page 43

He rakes me from head-to-toe with a steely gaze as if he wants to strip me right here in the middle of this Manhattan sidewalk. “We can start with that.”

I steered us into this, so I take the wheel and inch closer to him. “You in my apartment.”

It’s clearly not my ultimate end goal for the evening.

I want to have an orgasm that isn’t born from my fingers and my overzealous imagination. Berk has been fodder for my fantasies lately, but I’m not going to confess that to him.

His eyes stay trained on mine as he parts his lips before he shuts them again. A moment passes before he smiles. “You’re not shy when it comes to sex, are you?”

I used to be.

I was a virgin until I was eighteen, and back then, I had to be in a darkened room with a guy I thought I was falling in love with.

Since I moved to Manhattan, I’ve had encounters with different men. Some needed direction. Others had more experience, but they were all fun in their own way.

They were all casual too, because that’s what fit into my life and theirs.

“Why would I be shy about sex?” I exhale. “I like sex. I like when the men I’m with like sex as much as I do.”

His jaw clenches. It’s enough to make me realize that I hit a nerve.

Is there a slim chance he’s slightly jealous hearing me talk about my past lovers?

“This man,” he begins as he moves to trail his lips over my cheek toward my ear. “This man loves sex.”

My breath shudders from the declaration and the promise that’s woven into it.

I pull back slightly. “You’re going to be a lot of fun, aren’t you?”

“You’re about to find out.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Berk

I pull her into my arms as soon as she’s locked her apartment door.

I would have asked for the grand tour, but this desperate need that has been building inside me since I first met Astrid can’t be tamed.

I kiss her roughly, winding my fingers through the soft strands of her hair as she whimpers.

Fuck.

I’ve wanted women in the past, but not like this.

I break the kiss to trail my lips over her cheek, down the smooth skin of her neck until I reach her shoulder.

I take a second to breathe her in.

“I have condoms,” she whispers. “In my bedroom.”

I’m grateful for that because the condoms I bought are sitting in a room at the Bishop Hotel Tribeca.

“Where’s your bedroom?” I ask as I skim a hand over her back.

She hesitates long enough that I stop kissing her shoulder to look into her eyes.

I see calmness there, sureness. I see a woman who wants me just as much as I want her.

“You’re all right with being here, aren’t you?” she asks softly with concern woven into each word. “I think…or know…or maybe I’m just guessing here, but you usually take women to a hotel room, don’t you?”

I feel no embarrassment. I’ve done that out of necessity. I can’t take a woman to my home, and I’ve never wanted to drop myself into a woman’s bed only to walk out of her life a few hours later.

I don’t want to walk out of Astrid’s life after this.

I can’t see beyond a few hours from now, but I know that I won’t get enough of her tonight.

I’ll want more of the taste of her kiss, the softness of her skin, and what I imagine is the velvet heat of her pussy wrapped around my cock.

“I want to be here,” I assure her with a kiss on her mouth. “I want this.”

Her eyes brighten. “What are we waiting for?”

I drop my hands to tug on the bottom hem of her sweater. “I’ve wanted you naked all night.”

She responds to that by lifting her arms in the air. “Be my guest.”

I tug the sweater over her head, and my jaw goes slack instantly because she’s not wearing a bra.

I stare at her body, at her swollen breasts with their perked pink nipples.

Christ.

I feel weakened to the depth of my soul by her beauty.

Her arms move as though she’s going to shield herself from my gaze, but they stall in mid-air. “I’m cold. Come to bed with me, Berk.”

Her hand reaches out to me, and I take it.

I let her guide me down a hallway toward her bedroom, already knowing that this experience will stay with me until I draw my last breath on this earth.

As soon as I’ve stripped her clothes off, I toss her on her back in the center of her bed and stare.

I want to crawl over her, kiss a path down her body, and feast on her pussy, but I can’t move.

I take in the sight in front of me, trying to imprint it into my memory.

Her hair is spread out around her shoulders, her breasts still waiting for my attention, and as my gaze drifts down over the sweet soft curves of her stomach, I stop to stare at her smooth core.

Tags: Deborah Bladon Billionaire Romance
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