Page 21 of Single Dad’s Fake Bride (Billionaire Baby Daddies #7)

The sound he made wasn’t a groan—it was a growl.

Low, fierce. His mouth crashed into mine again, and this time there was no restraint, no hesitation.

Just teeth and tongue and hunger. He grabbed the edge of my blouse and yanked it open, buttons popping loose as the fabric parted.

His hands found my bra and shoved it down, baring me completely.

“Jesus, Sadie,” he muttered, head lowering. “You drive me insane.”

He didn’t wait. His mouth closed around my nipple, tongue dragging slow, wet circles that made my spine arch. I gasped and clutched at his shoulders, and he bit down gently before switching to the other, sucking hard enough to bruise.

My skirt was pushed up around my waist, his palms spreading my thighs wider. I felt the heat of his breath where I wanted him most, but he didn’t go there yet. His gaze lifted to mine, and when he spoke again, his voice was harsh with restraint.

“You came in here to make coffee. But I think you knew exactly what would happen.”

I nodded, breathless.

“You wanted this,” he said, voice husky as his fingers brushed over my panties, testing how wet I already was. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week, Sadie.”

I let out a shaky breath, unable to deny it. His touch was light at first—teasing. Then he pushed the damp fabric aside and slid two fingers along me, like he already knew what I needed.

“Oh,” I gasped, hips tilting into his hand.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s it. Just like that.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then lower. “God, you’re soft. You feel… perfect.”

My knees went weak when he circled my clit with the pad of his thumb, with just enough pressure to make my whole body clench.

He brought his fingers to his lips and groaned. “You taste so good.”

“Please,” I whispered. I didn’t even know what I was asking for—just more. More of him.

He sank to his knees in front of me without a word, his hands warm on the backs of my thighs as he guided them farther apart. My panties slipped down my legs and hit the floor. He glanced up once, checking my face, then leaned in and kissed the inside of my thigh.

I held my breath.

The first brush of his tongue was soft. Testing. Then he did it again, slower this time, a little firmer. My hands gripped the edge of the desk behind me as heat coiled low in my stomach.

He found a rhythm fast—steady, unhurried, his mouth working me with quiet focus, like he didn’t need to rush or speak or be anything other than exactly where he was. When I whimpered, his hands slid up to hold my hips steady. One thumb swept over my hipbone, grounding me.

My head tipped back. “Oh, my God.”

He kept going, tongue circling, then sucking, then flattening again. Every pass dragged me closer. My thighs trembled and his grip tightened.

My thighs trembled and his grip tightened, holding me through it. I came with a sharp gasp, my body curling forward, hands gripping his shoulders as the pleasure tore through me. He stayed with me, mouth gentler now, kissing me through the aftershocks until I was too sensitive to bear it.

I reached for him, pulling him up. He rose easily, and I caught the edge of his shirt in my fists, tugging him down for a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips, feel how badly he was shaking.

He leaned his forehead to mine. “Jesus, Sadie.”

I reached for his belt again, but he beat me to it this time—his fingers working fast, the metal buckle clinking as he yanked it loose. He shoved his pants and briefs down just enough to free himself, then stepped between my legs, breath shaking.

“God, I need you.”

He dragged me closer to the edge of the desk. One hand fumbled in his wallet, tore open a condom. He rolled it on without slowing down, eyes locked on mine the whole time.

Then he grabbed my hips and pushed inside in one steady, desperate thrust.

We both groaned.

The stretch knocked the air from my lungs. My hands found his shoulders, gripping hard as he bottomed out.

“You okay?” he panted, voice rough in my ear.

I nodded, already rocking my hips up to meet him. “Don’t stop.”

His rhythm deepened, hips driving into mine with sharp, purposeful thrusts that left no room to think.

The desk creaked beneath us. His grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer with every stroke.

I held onto his shoulders, gasping each time he hit the spot that made everything tighten low in my belly.

“You feel unbelievable,” he managed, breath ragged. “I’m trying to hold on?—”

“Don’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Just come with me.”

His mouth found mine again, messy and desperate, as his pace turned uneven. I felt the shift in his body, the way his control slipped, rhythm stuttering as he pressed in harder.

I came fast—everything inside me pulling tight as I clenched around him, breath catching on a sound I couldn’t hold in. He groaned low against my mouth and followed, hips pressed flush to mine as he spilled into the condom, one hand fisted in my skirt, the other cradling the back of my neck.

Neither of us moved.

His chest heaved against mine. The air between us was thick and unsteady. His forehead dropped to my shoulder. I let my eyes close, my hands still tangled in his shirt, my body still shaking from how hard it hit.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said quietly, voice rough in my ear.

I smiled against his shoulder and breathed him in, relishing the pleasure of having come undone right here in his office.

What a mess we were making of this situation entirely, but it felt amazing.

Whether we could go back to keeping this professional or whether it got messy was left to be determined, but this man was unraveling me one thread at a time.

"I know," I whispered as he pulled out. He lingered near for a second, kissed my cheek, then backed away and pulled his pants up.

I sat on the edge of his desk, trying to catch my breath, trying to process what had just happened. Harrison stood facing the window, his shirt half-buttoned, his hair disheveled. My panties were still on the floor and my heart was still pounding.

Finally, he turned around, running a hand through his hair. "Come to dinner tonight," he said, his voice still rough around the edges. "We can go over the license application Theodore is preparing."

I nodded, sliding down from the desk on unsteady legs. "What time?" I smoothed my skirt and picked up my panties—to be put on in the ladies’ room shortly.

"Seven." He was buttoning his shirt now, transforming back into the composed Harrison Vale everyone else knew. "We need to make sure we have all the details straight before we file the paperwork."

"Right." I gathered my scattered hair into my hands, trying to twist it back into some order. "The details."

He watched me struggle with my hair for a moment, then stepped closer. "Here." His fingers were gentle as he helped smooth the dark waves back, and I found myself leaning into his touch despite everything.

"Eloise will be excited to see you," he said softly.

The mention of his daughter sent a sharp pang through my chest. What were we doing?

What would happen to her when this arrangement inevitably fell apart?

Because it would. We'd end up having sex a few more times and realize that because of his age and financial status, my inexperience and debt, we were incompatible.

It almost made me want to run screaming now, just to save everyone the heartache, but I didn't know how to.

Not when we both needed this to work so badly.

"Harrison," I started, but he was already looking at me with those careful, shuttered eyes.

"I know," he said quietly. "We'll figure it out."

I finished making myself presentable in the silence, my mind spinning with everything that had changed in the span of an hour. When I was ready to leave, I moved toward the door, but his voice stopped me.

"Sadie." I turned back to find him watching me intently. "This doesn't have to complicate things."

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that statement, but I just nodded. "Seven o'clock."

I slipped out of his office and walked down the empty hallway, my legs unsteady, my heart still racing. I could feel his eyes on me until I turned the corner, could still feel the ghost of his hands on my skin.

Without thinking, I lifted my fingers to my lips, and despite everything—despite the complications and the confusion and the certainty that this was going to end badly—I found myself grinning behind the soft touch.

He was incredibly sexy, and the memory of his mouth on mine sent heat spiraling through my body all over again.

But I couldn't mistake his kindness toward me, his support of my mother, his determination to save Eloise's school, and this undeniable chemistry for anything more than what it was—surface-level attraction in a complicated situation.

I didn't really know him. Not the man behind the careful control and expensive suits. And if I wasn't careful, if I let myself believe this was more than a convenient arrangement with unexpected benefits, my heart was going to get completely destroyed.

So why couldn't I just detach? Why couldn't I take advantage of his generosity and keep my emotions safely locked away where they belonged?