Page 53 of 21 Nights with Billionaire Boss

I gasp, shocked by his ferocity and the need pumping through me, making me jerk up into his forceful kisses.

Pleasure slices through me as his tongue licks up and down my slit, then spears inside me. I grip his hair, holding him steady as I rock into his face.

“Yes,” he says raggedly. His hands drift to my ass and he holds me open, eating me like he’s a caveman with his first cut of meat in weeks.

My back hits the desk and my moans skyrocket.

Chance thumbs apart my pussy lips and then the flat of his tongue sweeps over my clit.

My lower back arches and a gasp leaves me. He goes over it, again and again, until I’m a panting, pleading mess.

“Please, Chance.”

I’m not certain what I’m asking for, but I know it’s only him that can give it to me.

His mouth leaves my center and alarm shoots through me.

Is he stopping?

I try to sit up but he pushes me back down and then my legs are coming up.

“What?” I say, breathless.

Chance holds my legs and dives back in.

This position, where I have no say, as he eats me, sends my body shaking.

Anyone can walk through the door and see us, see my boss treating me like a snack.

I start to tremble. “Chance, I think… I’m…”

He finds my clit and circles it, again and again. Then he spears two fingers into my pussy, stretching me out.

My orgasm hits me like a freight train. I explode into a million pleasured pieces as he rides out my orgasm with long licks and his spearing fingers.

Only when I sink back onto the desk does he let up. He kisses my inner thighs, then pulls my panties back up.

Then he leans over me. There’s a smile in his eyes. “Have lunch with me.”

“Is lunch code for something?” I’m still breathing heavily.

He smirks. “Yes, code for eating real food.” Then his tongue sweeps over his still-wet lower lip and I think I’ll take whatever lunch is, food or not.

Chapter Thirteen

Chance

The restaurant I chose to have lunch with Maddie has an ocean view and more importantly, is far from the Island’s business district, meaning it won’t be crowded.

I’m right.

The lunch crowd is sparse. We claim a table by the window where Maddie can watch the waves slap the beach before pulling back.

Her gaze is fixed on it, a small smile playing on her lips.

It’s the perfect opportunity to watch her.

Her hand is braced under her chin, her hair floating around her as the cool salty air blows around us.