The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire(63)
Humming her appreciation at his control, she took more of him until he filled her completely. He was salty with a hint of musk. The tight, flat muscles in his abs jerked as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.
She palmed his balls and bobbed her head, desperate to make him feel as good as he’d made her when he’d gone down on her. She wanted him to forget whatever that had been bugging him enough to make him run so late at night. Rough breathing and the guttural groan rumbling in his chest urged her on.
“Make yourself feel good, Sophia,” he said. “I want to feel you come with my dick in your mouth.”
Heat sizzled along her spine. She put a hand between her legs. Her folds were already drenched.
She fingered herself, just the way he had. Her fingers curled, hitting the spot he’d hit with his cock earlier. Her lungs worked harder to drag in more air, and she increased the tempo of her mouth and hand. The tendons in his neck stood out as he clenched his teeth, and she knew he was very, very close.
And he’d never let go until she’d gotten off first.
“Come for me,” he ordered, his voice harsh.
An orgasm crashed through her. As she rode one wave after another, he tightened his hold on her hair and pumped in and out, his pelvic muscles flexing. She felt his balls tighten, and at the final instant he pulled out, spurting all over her chest.
The warm water washed away his hot seed. He pulled her up and kissed her hard. “You drive me crazy,” he said.
She smiled. “So do you.”
He rested his forehead against hers. They breathed in each other’s air for what felt like an eternity. Finally she pulled back and cut the water. “Think you can sleep now?”
He nodded. They dried each other and went back to bed. She curled around him, wishing she could heal his wounds so he’d never be compelled to run like that again.
* * *
Sophia got up early as usual, then grimaced as she surveyed her clothes on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Dane murmured, still lying on his side of the bed.
“My clothes.” She picked up her top and skirt. “They look so…wrinkled and worn.”
He yawned. “Don’t worry.”
“Says the man with a closet full of fresh clothes.”
“You’ve got some, too.”
“I do?”
He sat up. “They should’ve delivered them by now.”
He put on his robe and went to the entrance. She trailed after him. Sure enough, there were three boxes by the door, all with a gold-over-black logo that looked pricey. She didn’t recognize the brand, but Dane had expensive tastes.
“There you go. That should take care of your problem.”
“When did you order these?” she asked in awe.
“Last night.” He picked them up and placed them on the coffee table. “See if they’re acceptable. If not, I’ll have another set delivered.”
She opened them one by one. The first box held lingerie—a lacy white bra and matching panties…plus a garter belt that made her raise her eyebrows—and work clothes. A green silk blouse and a mustard skirt went surprisingly well together, and the material felt luxurious and soft against her skin. The second box had a pair of ballet flats, and the final box had a makeup kit.
“And everything the perfect size,” she mused. “How did you know?”
“Well,” he said, looking somewhat smug and self-satisfied, “I did touch you more or less everywhere.”
She flushed. “Calibrated hands?”
“You could say that. Are they acceptable?”
“They’re gorgeous. Thank you. You think of everything.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “They’re nothing. Belated birthday present.”
“Last night wasn’t it?”
“I think I enjoyed myself too much to call it a present for you.” He grinned.
It was so unexpectedly sweet and boyish that she almost couldn’t breathe. People are wrong about him, she decided. He’d just never allowed himself to show his warm side. And why would he, when he’d been told he should never have been born by the one person who should’ve loved him the most?
She swallowed a small lump in her throat and smiled. “I’ll make breakfast. Why don’t you get ready?”
“We can just grab something on the way.”
“I insist.” She tiptoed and kissed him on the mouth before she could stop herself. “I can do a mean omelet.”
* * *
Dane couldn’t say no to an omelet, especially one that Sophia made. She puttered around in the kitchen, while he returned to the bedroom to get dressed.
As he put on his cufflinks, a small voice said it wasn’t like him to enjoy a domestic scene. He hated it when women didn’t get the hint and leave as soon as sex was over, and he always showered afterward so he could rest without any lingering remnant of them on himself.