Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)(29)

I don't like being confined.

Trapped.

He knelt beside me, and through the raging eagerness in his stare, I sensed his patience. “I won't hurt you,” he promised.

And it was a promise.

There's a chance I was insane to let him do this to me. And there was a good chance I was going to look back on this and wonder what the hell had gotten into me.

But when I raked my eyes over his face, considered the set of his jaw... the way he held himself at bay... I couldn't fight my curiosity. He'd told me he wanted to test how deep my own wickedness went.

Wouldn't backing out now waste that chance?

Lifting my wrists, I crossed them together. “Like this?”

Silver's groan was primal. “Just the sight of you doing that is making my cock throb.”

A tiny whimper slipped through my lips. Grabbing my hands, he pulled them over my head. The position stretched me out, my chest rolling high, my nipples burning with desire against my dress. He was fast, efficient; in seconds, he'd bound my wrists together on the metal bed-frame.

Sitting back, he lingered on watching me. The fire in his amber eyes brushed every part of my body. Where he looked, I felt his touch. The air vibrated, alive with our expectations.

Both of us were waiting.

Hooking his fingers into his jacket and tie, he fished them over his head. My heart began to race as he flicked his buttons, peeling his dress-shirt open to expose his torso. His muscles were as defined as steps in a mountain, the edges shadowed and leading me down.

I could see the outline of his cock, seconds before he made it even easier through his tight briefs. There was a damp spot, and my clit swelled as I understood. Precome. He was as excited as I was.

Silver slid his palms upwards, draping across my body to grip my wrists. He squeezed, breathing in while I moaned. The wetness of his seeking mouth conquered mine. Slipping around firmly, his tongue pressed down, trapping mine as surely as he'd trapped the rest of me.

The unbreakable shield of his chest ground along my front. In a single swipe, he yanked the dress down, popping my bra free. My panties were ripped to my knees. There was nothing between us but skin and unspoken words.

I was on the verge of calling his name, and he... I'm not sure. I only sensed there was something on the tip of his tongue.

Instead of speaking, he kissed me again.

Fingertips smoothed over my pussy lips, up and down. Spreading me, he dipped into the wetness he'd created. “You're dripping,” he whispered.

Burying himself in me up to the knuckle, he pushed against my warm walls. “Ah!” I gasped, my knees scraping together. He was testing how sensitive I was, the roof of my pussy already tingling with rawness.

I was hyper aware of his every motion, my heart leaping—my thighs shaking. Lowering himself, he rolled his tongue over my exposed clit. I jumped; he did it again, licking quicker.

The straps curled against my wrists. “That's too much,” I whimpered.

Silver glanced up at me, his face hidden by my pussy, but I felt his expression.

That smirk cut over my flesh, then it buried on my twitching clit all over again. Straining against my bonds, I worked to hold back a desperate moan. When he bent his fingers inside of me, adding a third, I lost the battle.

“Fuck,” I sobbed, arching like a bridge in the wind. “Silver—please!”

All at once he stopped everything. It was so abrupt that I thought something must be wrong. Looking down my sweating body, I stared into his burning eyes. “Beg me,” he said, breathing heavily. He looked delirious. “Tell me you need me to let you come.”

If I wasn't already flushing, I would have started. “Beg you?”

Gripping my ankles, he threw my legs over his shoulders. My pussy was trapped inches from his smile. “Beg me,” he commanded, “Or I'll take you to the edge of orgasm and never let you over.”

As turned on as I was, this demand made me squirm awkwardly. “I don't think I can.”

“You can.” His thumbs peeled my lower lips wide. “You will,” he said, the syllables tickling my skin. “Maybe you just need some motivation.”

His tongue lapped at me, a starving man sitting before a feast. The tip would firmly circle my clit, making me gyrate helplessly. Each time I shook, tensing on the brink of coming, he'd retreat and kiss my inner thighs, or my knee, or any place else.

Sweat ran down into my eyes. It collected across my breasts, dripping into my bellybutton. The tension in my muscles was starting to hurt, everything as stiff as steel beams. In a short time—had it been short?—he'd made my body feel like I'd been struggling through a marathon.

But still, he kept the finish line out of reach.

Boiling, I grit my teeth and tossed my head. “Stop teasing me, please!” I shouted.