Page 99 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad

I glance away and he chuckles, "Thought so. Tell me what you want me to do and I will."

I bite down on the inside of my cheek.

"And if I don’t?" I mumble.

“Then,” he pushes back the piano bench and rises to his feet, "I am leaving; you can see yourself out."

He angles to go and I swoop down and grab his arm, "Please."

He glances down at my hand then back at me. I release my hold.

He glares at me, and my throat closes. He holds my gaze with his, raises an eyebrow, and I know then, if I let him leave now, he’ll never see me again. He’ll ignore me, walk away from me, never allow me to get close to him again, and damn it, I want it, just once. I want to feel the full power of his presence, the weight of his body on mine, his tongue dancing over mine, his fingers entwined with mine, his dick inside my pussy as he rams into me over and over again.

"Please," I swallow, "ruin me."

32

Damian

"You don’t mean that."

"I… I do." She tips up her chin.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for."

"Don’t I?" Her lips twist. She begins to unbutton her shirt.

I shake my head. "Stop."

"Make me." She reaches for the next button.

I swoop down and grab her wrist. "Told you not to do it."

"Oh?" She smiles wider. "What are you gonna do about it?"

I draw in a breath. She’s teasing me, testing me, and I shouldn’t give in to the allure of her body, her scent, the way she peers up at me from under heavy eyelids, then slides her palm between her jeans-clad thighs, "Don’t you want this Damian?"

"Don’t play with me," I warn.

She throws back her head, laughs in a sultry husky tone.

A ripple of lust pulses down my spine.

She brings her other hand up to cup her breast, "And this…? I know how much you’d like to fuck my tits, Daddy D."

"Daddy D?"

She blinks, "Ignore I…said that."

"No." I lean into her. She pushes her shoulders down into the lid of the piano. Her foot hits one of the piano keys and the sound rings out through the space. The vibrations roll up from the surface against where my thighs meet the slip of the keyboard. My groin hardens.

Hell, music and this woman. Together, they are a lethal combination. One I can’t live without, the other I can’t have enough of. One is my livelihood… The other my…life? What am I thinking?

She’s only someone I find appealing, someone I need to fuck out of my system, someone whose orgasms unlock the dead place inside of me where I have hidden for so long. She brings me alive, and that’s not a bad thing, considering I am finally able to write. She’s the key to my muse and I need to keep her in that space. As long as I don’t let her intrude into my everyday life, I’ll be fine.

"So, you like role play?" I ask.

"I didn’t say that."