The Billion Dollar Bachelor(13)

“Losing.” Control. “Our game.”

She laughed. “Perhaps losing wouldn’t be so bad. If you got to have certain … things.”

“What things?”

“Things like this.” Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his throat, her palms flat on his chest.

Oh fuck. Jax closed his eyes, nails digging into his palms. He wasn’t going to survive this. He was going to lose it. He was going to …

Her arms wound around his neck, her mouth brushing over his. “And this. And also … ” Warmth pressing against his body, pressure against his groin. A soft heat. “This.”

“Snow … ”

She didn’t reply but he felt her teeth nip lightly at the cords of his neck.

And something shattered inside him.

He moved, pushing his fingers into her hair and tugging her head back, covering her mouth with his. At the same time he reached with his other hand for the little scrap of red lace currently masquerading as a pair of panties, pulling hard, the fabric making a satisfying tearing sound.

She gasped but he didn’t stop, kissing her deeper, tasting sweetness and heat and the bite of electricity. Lightning. He slipped a hand between her thighs, soft curls and wetness beneath his fingers.

Snow jerked in his grip, a startled sound breaking from her. “Oh … ”

In the back of his head, something murmured a warning, but he ignored it. He’d been pushed too far. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He lifted his mouth from hers, pulling her head back further, exposing that long, white throat. Then he bit her like she’d bitten him, his teeth closing around the delicate cords of her neck as his fingers found her clit and stroked gently.

She shuddered, gasping. “Jesus Christ … .d-does this mean … I win … ?”

“If winning means the first orgasm then yes, you win.” He moved his fingers, circling, stroking, deeply satisfied as she gave another shudder, another gasp, her hips pushing against his hand.

God, she was responsive. She went straight to his head faster and sweeter than the whiskey he’d been drinking earlier.

He bent her back further against his arm, kissing the dips and hollows of her collarbone, moving down to the swell of one pink-tipped breast. He licked her nipple, stroking the wet heat between her thighs, and she gave a low moan. A moan that turned ragged as he eased the tip of his finger inside her. She was tight, so tight. Christ, this was going to be intense.

He flicked his tongue over her nipple then took it into his mouth, drawing hard on her. She tasted … delicious. He wanted to lick her all over like ice cream.

“Oh my God,” she whispered raggedly. “That feels … insanely good.”

He eased his finger into her a little farther, increasing the suction on her nipple, concentrating on her instead of the by now almost painful ache in his groin. He’d never wanted to say “To hell with the foreplay” and go straight to the main event before but Jesus, that’s all he could think about now. The heat of her around his finger, the slickness of her flesh, the soft sounds she was making as he sucked on her breast ….

He couldn’t wait. Not a second longer.

“I … ” Snow panted, her hips moving restlessly against his hand. “I think I’m going to … ”

Oh, no, she wasn’t. Not yet.

Releasing her nipple, he took his hand away, ignoring her protest as he backed her over to the couch until the arm of it pressed against the backs of her thighs. Then he turned her around and pushed her down over the arm.

Fuck, the sight of her bent over like that was incredible. Pale and elegant, the black hair trailing along her back a beautiful contrast to her white skin. The round curve of her ass was just about perfect and the view between her thighs made him so hard he could barely think.

He sucked in a harsh breath, his heart racing.

What the hell are you doing? Taking her over the arm of your couch? Are you insane?

He should stop. He really should. Before he did something he’d regret.

Before someone got hurt.

At that moment, she turned her head and looked back at him, eyes dark, cheeks flushed. She was panting. “Don’t stop. Please.”

No, he couldn’t. It was far, far too late to stop now.

He dug into the back pocket of his trousers, hauled out his wallet. He always kept a condom in there—he liked being prepared, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had to resort to using it.

He took the packet out, flung the wallet carelessly back on the couch. As quickly as he could, he undid his fly and protected himself, then he laid a hand in the middle of her back, stroking down her spine.