Page 70 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
I gasped in mock horror, placing a hand over my heart, even as his other hand found its way to my hip, fingers drumming a distracting rhythm against my silk shirt. “You mean to tell me that the great Matt Caine, billionaire extraordinaire, actually pays attention to the cost of skincare products?”
He shrugged, a roguish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“Clearly,” I retorted, my voice slightly breathless as his touch sent warmth spreading through my body. “I suppose next you’ll be telling me you’ve got a secret passion for scrapbooking and knitting tea cozies.”
Matt’s laughter echoed through the room, a sound I’d never tire of hearing.
His hand moved to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my damp hair.
“Careful, pet,” he warned playfully, giving my hair a gentle tug that made my breath catch, “or I might just have to demonstrate some of my other hidden talents.”
The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself leaning into his touch, craving more.
“How was your day in the empire?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light despite the electricity crackling between us. His fingers had found their way under my collar, tracing the sensitive skin there in a way that made it hard to focus.
“The usual,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, his hands sliding down to my waist again, thumbs drawing maddening circles against my hip bones through the silk shirt.
“Making money, expanding empires, creating jobs.” His lips curled into a smirk as he pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other.
“And maybe firing a few undeserving souls.”
His casual mention of such power amused me to no end. I grinned, my fingers tracing the line of buttons on his crisp dress shirt, feeling the solid warmth of his chest beneath. “So, you’re like a deity in a suit, then?”
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as his hands roamed up my sides, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
“I suppose I am. It used to weigh on me, all those lives in my hands. But now…” he trailed off, his eyes holding a depth of experience I was only beginning to understand.
His touch gentled, becoming almost reverent as his fingers traced the outline of my jaw.
That stunned me. Matt had always been this unshakeable force—steady as a mountain. To think there was a time when he wasn’t Mr. Hardcore Businessman was… jarring. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, momentarily derailing my thoughts.
“What changed?” I asked softly, my fingers stilling on his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my palm.
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as if he were reliving a memory.
One hand slid up my back, coming to rest between my shoulder blades, holding me close.
“I learned that power isn’t about control,” he said finally, his voice low and thoughtful.
“It’s about responsibility. About using what you have to make a difference, no matter how small. ”
I stared at him, seeing him in a new light. This was a side of Matt I’d never seen before—a glimpse behind the polished veneer of the ruthless tycoon. It made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t quite describe. His hand moved to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
“I think I’m starting to understand that,” I murmured, my hand coming up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing against the slight stubble there. “You’re not just a pretty face with a fat wallet, are you?”
He chuckled, leaning into my touch as his other hand slipped beneath my shirt to stroke the small of my back. “Don’t let the secret out,” he teased. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised, my thumb brushing over his lips. A shiver ran through me as his hands continued their exploration, mapping my skin with careful attention. “Though I can’t guarantee I won’t use it against you the next time you try to boss me around.”
His eyes darkened, a wicked glint appearing in their depths as his fingers pressed into my hips, drawing me impossibly closer. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Donovan?”
“More like a promise,” I retorted, my pulse quickening at the heat in his gaze and the possessive way his hands gripped my waist.
His lips crashed against mine, hungry and demanding, while his hands slid down to grip my thighs. His tongue plunged in with an urgency that stole my breath away, and I shuddered and melted into the kiss, my body responding to his touch like a flame to oxygen.
His mouth on mine felt like coming home after an eternity lost at sea.
It was like being devoured and reborn in the same breath.
My arms wound around his neck instinctively as I kissed him back with equal fervor, fingers threading through his hair.
His responding growl vibrated through my chest as his hands roamed freely now, each touch setting my nerve endings alight.
Our mouths moved together in a passionate dance that spoke volumes of missed connections and newfound desires.
Finally pulling back for air, Matt’s eyes held that same fierce intensity as his tattoo’s dragon.
His hands hadn’t stopped their exploration, one thumb tracing the sensitive spot just above my hip that made me shiver.
“I missed this,” he confessed with an edge of raw need, punctuating his words with a gentle bite to my neck that made my knees weak.
I couldn’t help but smirk at him, even as his fingers danced along my spine, making it hard to string together coherent thoughts. “Well, we could always explore this further after dinner.”
His eyes darkened with desire but he held back, though his hands continued their torturous caress along my sides.
“We can,” he agreed slowly, “but no further than this.” His thumb traced my lower lip gently, his other hand settling possessively on my hip.
“You’re still recovering and patience is a virtue I’m willing to practice if it means you don’t suffer or prolong your injuries. ”
I raised an eyebrow in challenge, trying to ignore how his touch was turning my bones to liquid. “I’m strong,” I boasted with mock arrogance. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Oh, I know exactly how well you can handle me,” he purred, his hands sliding down to squeeze my hips suggestively. “That’s precisely why I need to be careful now. Your body needs time to heal properly, and we both know my self-control tends to… slip when you’re involved.”
A blush crept onto my cheeks at his words—memories of just how thoroughly he could lose that control flooding my mind—and his knowing smile told me he recognized the victory in making Andy Donovan blush.
I held his gaze with feigned indignation etched across my features, but the anticipation of what the night might bring hung in the air between us, a tantalizing promise that left me aching for more.
“You’re playing with fire, Mr. Caine,” I warned, my voice husky with desire.
“Maybe I like the heat,” he countered, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to skim along the sensitive skin of my lower back.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my body arching into his touch like a cat seeking affection. “Keep that up and we might not make it to dinner,” I managed, my words coming out in a breathy whisper.
“Tempting,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “But I think I’d rather savor the anticipation. Draw out the pleasure until you’re begging for it.”
A whimper escaped me, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping me upright. “You’re a cruel man, Matt Caine.”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled, the sound dark and full of promise.
With a final nip to my earlobe, he pulled back, his hands settling on my hips in a possessive grip. “We should head down,” he said, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.
I nodded, trying to regain some semblance of composure. It was a herculean effort, given the way my body was still thrumming with need, but I managed a shaky smile. “Lead the way, oh mighty one.”
He laughed, the sound warm and affectionate, and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to be the death of me, Andy Donovan.”
“But what a way to go,” I quipped, taking his hand and letting him guide me out of the penthouse.