Page 49
Story: Resisting the Billionaire
A tension sits in the air, and as the song comes to an end, our bodies naturally still.
But she doesn’t let go. And I sure as hell won’t be the first, not if she’s letting me keep my hands on her. My palms drift to her lower back, resting perilously close to the top of her ass, and her grip on me tightens, breaths picking up.
She wants this.
I bend my head down, skimming my nose along her neck, breathing her in. What is it about her scent that affects me so much? The unique floral composition? Or because it belongs to her?
I press a soft kiss to the delicate skin, craving her. Then another. And another.
Her fingers curl in my hair, the two of us silent, afraid to break this moment as I trace a path upward until I’m finally kissing her mouth, everything in my world settling into place again. This is where I’m supposed to be. With this woman.
My hands move south, cupping her perfect ass, drawing her further into my body. Needing her close. For always.
She gives a soft sigh as I deepen the kiss, keeping one hand on her ass as I bring the other up her body, shaping the heavy weight of her breast. If only we were somewhere more private, I could pull the neckline of her dress down to discover what I’ve been imagining for weeks.
Her hands grip the back of my neck, the pressure exactly what I crave, her eagerness ramping up as she twines herself around me. I grind into her, both of us releasing quiet sounds of need, the taste of her mouth consuming me, drugging me.
This is what being engaged should be like. This need to have you now feeling. This intense yearning to be close. This give and take, this magnetic pull, this sensation deep in my lower belly I haven’t experienced before. This isn’t simply attraction, this is something more. Something I want. Need.
I’ve never thought about a woman so much, sought out ways to be with her, help her, do anything to see her smile. Or been so content to just be in her presence.
But it couldn’t have come at a worse time. And all too soon, it’s over.
She untwines her arms from around my neck, taking a step back.
“Gabriel, we can’t.”
But she doesn’t let go. And I sure as hell won’t be the first, not if she’s letting me keep my hands on her. My palms drift to her lower back, resting perilously close to the top of her ass, and her grip on me tightens, breaths picking up.
She wants this.
I bend my head down, skimming my nose along her neck, breathing her in. What is it about her scent that affects me so much? The unique floral composition? Or because it belongs to her?
I press a soft kiss to the delicate skin, craving her. Then another. And another.
Her fingers curl in my hair, the two of us silent, afraid to break this moment as I trace a path upward until I’m finally kissing her mouth, everything in my world settling into place again. This is where I’m supposed to be. With this woman.
My hands move south, cupping her perfect ass, drawing her further into my body. Needing her close. For always.
She gives a soft sigh as I deepen the kiss, keeping one hand on her ass as I bring the other up her body, shaping the heavy weight of her breast. If only we were somewhere more private, I could pull the neckline of her dress down to discover what I’ve been imagining for weeks.
Her hands grip the back of my neck, the pressure exactly what I crave, her eagerness ramping up as she twines herself around me. I grind into her, both of us releasing quiet sounds of need, the taste of her mouth consuming me, drugging me.
This is what being engaged should be like. This need to have you now feeling. This intense yearning to be close. This give and take, this magnetic pull, this sensation deep in my lower belly I haven’t experienced before. This isn’t simply attraction, this is something more. Something I want. Need.
I’ve never thought about a woman so much, sought out ways to be with her, help her, do anything to see her smile. Or been so content to just be in her presence.
But it couldn’t have come at a worse time. And all too soon, it’s over.
She untwines her arms from around my neck, taking a step back.
“Gabriel, we can’t.”
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