Page 126 of Babies for the Big Shot

“Nick,” I whisper, trembling with want.

He glances up, his pupils blown wide. “Spread wider. Keep your hands above your head.”

I freeze, heat flaring in my belly. “Bossy.”

“Always.”

I obey, because I want to, and the look he gives me in return is possessive. Proud. Wicked.

Then his tongue is on me. Inside me.

And everything disappears.

I cry out, bucking against his mouth, but his strong hands hold me down. He devours me slowly, thoroughly, licking up every drop of slickness, sucking gently on my clit until I’m shaking.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he growls between strokes.

My thighs tremble, my breath breaks apart. And then he slides two fingers inside me, curling just right, just perfect, and I see stars.

“Come for me,” he commands. “Right now.”

I do.

Hard.

I shudder around his fingers, arching off the couch with a cry that’s foreign to me. When I come down, he presses his mouth to mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

“You’re mine now,” he says, low and possessive as he finally rises off me.

And God help me, I want to be.

But I don’t get the chance to say it. Not out loud. Because the moment he sees that look in my eyes, wrecked and desperate and greedy for more, he moves.

He lifts me in a single breathless motion, carrying me effortlessly as if I weigh nothing and this is nothing new. I yelp, gripping his shoulders, still naked and spinning from my orgasm.

He drops me onto the chaise lounge by the window, and my whole body bounces with a startled gasp.

“Hands behind your back,” he orders, voice full Alpha now. Full CEO. Fullyou will submit.

I blink up at him, dazed. “What?”

“Now, sweetheart.”

My hands fly behind me before my brain catches up.

He grabs the tie from the discarded blanket, thick, soft fleece, and wraps it expertly around my wrists, binding them behind me.

Not tight enough to hurt. Just tight enough that I can’t move without thinking about how much I want him to.

He parts my thighs and steps between them, the thick head of his cock dragging over my slick entrance, teasing me, tormenting me.

I gasp and try to rock my hips up to meet him, but he grips my bound wrists and holds me still.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs. “You think I’m gonna let you fuck yourself on me like that? After the way you came on my tongue?”

I whimper.

“Beg,” he says, teasing me again with the head of his cock, sliding it just barely in, then pulling back. “Beg for it, Sara.”