Wife Wanted (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)(41)

 

“No? But I want to make sure you get the full experience,” he said, grinning as he reached down and undid her jeans and slid them slowly down her hips, inch by painful inch. For a second, Phoebe forgot what underwear she was wearing…until he let out a curse. “You’re trying to kill me.”

 

She smiled wider as her jeans hit the floor and his fingers trailed back up her legs, playing with the lacy black panties she wore. His breath was warm against her, and she sat up, asking him just what he was doing.

 

“Just relax,” he said, gripping her panties with his teeth and pulling them down, baring her to his gaze. Phoebe felt her chest clench, feeling like she should cover herself until his hands gently parted her legs and his lips met an area she’d never thought would be kissed by a man. And definitely not like that.

 

“Oh my God,” she gasped as he kissed and caressed her. She reached for his shoulders, massaging them, gripping them as the intensity of the feelings grew, building until she thought she would burst into a thousand pieces. Her body twisted as the sharp feelings of ecstasy flowed through her, wave after wave crashing until she thought there was nothing left to feel. “What…oh, my God, that…was incredible.”

 

“And I’m just getting started.”

 

“Oh no, you don’t get to have all the fun,” she said and wiggled out from under him. She pushed him backwards until he lay flat on the bed, and she straddled him, kissing his bare chest as her hands worked at his jeans. “Could you not have worn looser pants?” She laughed as she worked them down his hips and legs, dragging his boxers along with them.

 

Ben started to say something, but his words were cut off when her fingers wrapped around his length once more. She paused, admiring the smoothness of him as she moved her hands slowly up and down. He groaned, trying to touch her, but she stayed out of his reach, enjoying the look on his face as his body arched slightly off the bed. She would have kept going, but he sat up and pulled her onto his lap so her legs were wrapped around his hips.

 

He held her up; then, as he kissed her, Phoebe felt him slip inside. It was tight at first, but after the third gentle thrust, she relaxed, letting him hold her as she stared into his eyes, those deep blue eyes that held so much caring, so much of something she couldn’t yet see. But she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to become a part of his life and to be with him. He moved within her, and for those few moments, Phoebe felt home.

 

She groaned, and a moment later, he joined her, their bodies quaking against each other as pleasure rippled through them before they fell sideways, panting. Phoebe grinned as aftershocks continued to roll over her. Ben propped himself up on his elbow and trailed his fingers down her stomach.

 

“So, was it everything you expected?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath.

 

“No,” she whispered. “It was more.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a long, deep kiss. He clutched her body to his, returning the kiss, until the heat between them started to grow again. Phoebe laughed as he grabbed the quilt and pulled it up over their bodies.

 

***

 

Phoebe felt warmth on her face, and it was bright behind her eyelids. Morning? She yawned and stretched, reaching across her bed, searching for Ben. But the bed was empty. She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. She glanced around the room, but Ben was nowhere in sight. His clothes were gone, too. Had he just left her? Just like that?

 

“Seriously? That’s bullshit—” she muttered until she heard something in the kitchen.

 

A dish broke. She froze, searching for her cell, but it wasn’t on the nightstand. There were footsteps…was it Ben? Or did someone break in? She grabbed a t-shirt from the floor, which covered most of her, then reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She unplugged it, took the shade off, then tip-toed from the bedroom and down the short hall. Someone was rustling around in her cabinets. Her hands shook as she raised the lamp over her shoulder like a bat. She was at the edge of the hallway…so close to whoever was in her kitchen…she rushed around the corner and yelled.

 

“Holy shit!”

 

“Ben?”

 

He stood there, wearing his jeans and nothing else, holding two cups of coffee. Phoebe stopped her swing just in time to bring the lamp down on the counter instead of the intruder’s head.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

 

“You…you weren’t in bed…I thought you’d left,” she muttered. “You scared me.”