Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(35)

Jaime shot me a cocky, confident smile. I wanted to rip it off his face with my teeth.

“Gloria, you want to lose control. Do it!” he commanded as he jabbed his big toe into my pussy.

I exploded. Ripples of ecstasy swept through me. It took all my willpower not to scream out. “Oh, God!” I moaned under my breath.

His satisfied eyes bore into me. “Now, it’s time to move onto the steamy artichoke, another natural aphrodisiac.”

Barely recovered from my mind-blowing orgasm, I eyed the thistle-leafed delicacy sitting in the middle of the table and jolted again. Beneath the table, a hand clutched my calf. Fuck! My turn to play footsy? My already rapid heartbeat accelerated as he maneuvered off my silver sandal and placed my foot on the mound between his legs. His steamy delicacy. The warmth of his swell beneath my sole intensified the throbbing between my inner thighs.

He began rubbing my foot up and down his arousal. I could feel it harden and swell beneath my arch. He hissed. There was nothing I could do with him holding my foot prisoner but wait anxiously for him to come.

And then the movements below ceased. My foot rested on his erection. The sole of my foot was burning.

His glimmering eyes burned a hole in mine. “I’m not going to force you make me come. That would be too much for me here. Too embarrassing. I just want to remind you what you do to me, my beautiful angel.”

Oh my God. He called me “angel.” His beautiful angel. My heart was melting like the candle on the table. How could one man, one word, do this to me?

Still holding my foot on his length, he peeled off an outer leaf of the large artichoke with his spare hand and dipped the tender edge into the side of melted butter. He raised the leaf, dripping with butter, to my lips. My breath hitched.

“Suck!” he ordered.

I clenched my teeth around the soft buttery artichoke meat and sucked it off the leaf. He discarded the remains onto his plate. With his index finger, he gently wiped off the little bit of butter that had fallen onto my lower lip. He inserted his butter-coated finger into his mouth and moaned.

“Now, you feed me a buttery leaf.”

I peeled off a large outer leaf and repeated his action.

“Mmmm. Perfection,” purred Jaime, rolling his tongue over his lush upper lip.

We continued this back and forth consumption of the artichoke until we were down to the heart.

“The heart is the very best part,” he proclaimed, his eyes now hooded.

I simply nodded, my foot still resting upon his hard, hot cock. I was in a trance. My head was spinning, and my blood was looping through my body like a rollercoaster. Hold on, Gloria

“Did you know that a woman’s heart is her real G-spot? You hit that and everything comes apart.”

Trembling, I watched as he stabbed his fork into the fuzzy artichoke center.

“Gloria, I want to win your account. Your cunt. And your heart.”

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t say a word even if I knew what to say.

“And I’m going to win each. One by one, starting with your account.”

I impulsively withdrew my foot from his erection. Business. It was time to talk business. That’s what this dinner was all about. I reinforced myself with a deep breath.

“Mr. Zander, if you are planning on doing business with me—that is, if you indeed have the good fortune of winning the Gloria’s Secret account—then I suggest we keep our relationship purely professional.”

He burst into laughter, totally unnerving me once again.

“Come on, Gloria. Can you can seriously sit here and say you don’t want me?”

I was speechless. Flushed and speechless.

“Doesn’t the thought of your pussy submitting to me anywhere make you wet with want?”

Steeling myself, I said, “Go to hell, you arrogant egotistical asshole.”

He laughed even harder and then looked straight into my eyes.

“Gloria, I’ve wanted you from the moment I set on eyes on you.”

Our first elevator encounter flashed into my head. Face-to-face. Breath to breath. His organ a fist away from mine.

“Even before the elevator. The moment I saw your photo online, I wanted you.”

Wait! Was I hearing that right? He was playing me on the elevator? He’d always wanted me? I was in a bit of a fog from all the wine. And stimulation. Was I dealing with some kind of Christian Grey except fifty shades sexier? At least, in my eyes.

“I don’t think I’m your type,” I stammered.

He snorted. “You’re right. I usually prefer brunettes and like my women to be petite and totally submissive. But that’s why you intrigue me, Ms. Long. I never have to pursue woman; they pursue me. You’re a challenge. On the outside, you wear armor; underneath you wear lace. Your outerwear says don’t touch; your underwear says touch me everywhere. You may be a powerful woman, but the challenge is to unleash the power inside you.”