Page 17 of Tempting the Billionaire (Billionaire Brothers #5)

Emma

I park outside Ezra’s townhouse, sitting in the dark silence for a long moment.

The sun has long since set, and I stare up at the lights through his windows.

I savor the moment for a few heartbeats.

Because after I go in and speak with him, after I bare my soul and see what he says—that’s that. He’ll either forgive me or he won’t.

And this, right now—the hope—might just be the best I’ll ever get.

Because in all honesty, I don’t expect forgiveness. If I were in his situation, I can’t say I’d be so easy to forgive. I truly can’t blame him. And that makes it all the harder .

With one last deep breath, I grab my purse from the passenger seat and hop out of the car. I ring his doorbell, smoothing my hair nervously. I know he has cameras down here. He’ll immediately know it’s me.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that he might not even let me in. But I don’t have much time to dwell on that thought before I hear the familiar buzz of his front door unlocking.

Surprised, because he hadn’t greeted me over the intercom, I hesitantly push the door open and step inside. I glance around the large lobby, realizing I really haven’t explored much of his house. All our time had been spent on his top two floors.

I shift uncomfortably, having no idea where he could be in this enormous townhouse. But then I hear the sound of a door opening and closing, and then, around the corner, strides Ezra.

He’s wearing sweatpants and a dark green t-shirt—and fuck, if he doesn’t somehow look sexier in that than he does in his everyday suits.

He comes to stand before me, silent, farther apart than we’d normally stand. His hands are in his pockets as he surveys me with a look of, not anger as I’d expected, but simple sadness.

“Hi,” I greet quietly, my voice catching on the word .

He offers me a tight-lipped grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hi.”

I shuffle anxiously. “Can we talk?”

He shrugs. “I let you in.”

Right. I nod, adrenaline coursing through me. “I saw the news. About you and your … wife.”

“Ex-wife,” he clarifies quickly.

I nod. “I’m sorry it’s all so … negative.”

He’s silent for a long moment. Long enough that I worry he’s not going to respond at all. “It was meant to be negative,” he finally says.

I frown in confusion, unsure what he means. I open my mouth to question him, but he beats me to it.

“I spoke with Justin.”

My eyes widen at that. “Spoke?” I repeat. “Only spoke?” I’d been afraid their confrontation wouldn’t include much speaking.

He noticeably grits his jaw at that. “Basically.” He lets out an irritated sigh.

“You won’t have to worry about that video of yours showing up anywhere,” he says, leveling me with a sincere stare.

“It was a trade. That story in the press about Diane cheating? It was enough for him to drop whatever deal he’d made with you. ”

I stare at him, dumbfounded, for a long moment. “You leaked it to the press?” I put together.

He nods, lips still pursed. “And I had my lawyer send Justin a letter threatening a lawsuit if those videos ever see the light of day, outlining the fact that I have unlimited resources when it comes to waging a legal war with him. If that’s not persuading enough, I don’t know what is.

He’s also got a restraining order on him—he can’t come within a hundred feet of you. ”

I take the information as it comes at me, my disbelief growing with every second. “You’d … do that for me?” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “The news about Diane would’ve leaked at some point. And—” his eyes meet mine “—the idea of that fucker hurting you …” His hands clench at his sides, and he shakes his head.

“But you did it. You did all that for me . After …” I stare at him, my heart breaking even further. That even after I’d hurt this man, he’d gone to war for me. He’d saved my life, defended me against Justin, thrown his reputation to the wolves all for … what? Me? Just me ?

“Ezra,” I whisper, my voice catching. “I’m so sorry.

” I shake my head, the guilt boiling over.

“I never meant to hurt you, I was just blinded by the fear of what Justin could do. I shouldn’t have agreed, and I shouldn’t have played with you.

It was awful of me and unforgiveable—regardless of what Justin threatened me with.

” I wrap my arms around my waist, hugging myself for comfort.

“I never thought it would get this far, I never thought I’d fall …

” I swallow, realizing as the words slip out how real they are. “… in love with you.”

At this, Ezra’s eyes widen slightly. “You love me?” he repeats. It’s the first time I’ve seen him not composed, not fully in control. He truly looks shocked, incredulous, and … something else I can’t quite identify.

I nod. I bite my lip, suddenly feeling stupid, silly.

I hadn’t even fully realized the extent of my feelings for him until this very moment.

But the more I sit in it, the more I realize how true it is.

I’m in love with Ezra Bishop, as implausible as that seems. And as the seconds tick by without a response, my heart feels like it might explode.

Ezra stares at me for a long moment. A long, torturous moment. “I didn’t think I could ever really love again after Diane,” he says softly. “I never thought I’d feel that way again.” He walks toward me. “Until you,” he breathes, looking down at me.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I stare up at him.

He reaches down to cup my face in his hands. “I love you, Emma Hayes. And I don’t care what you did—all I care about is that you love me back.” And with that, he crushes his lips against mine, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me against him.

I melt into him, my mind going a thousand different places at once. Shock, relief, joy, but most of all—desire. I cling to him, grasping the fabric of his shirt and pulling him against me.

Without breaking our kiss, he reaches down with both hands to grip my ass, hoisting me up and urging me to wrap my legs around his waist. I do, and he carries me down the hallway and through a door.

I break our kiss to look around long enough to see that he’s taken me into what appears to be a cozy living space—complete with couches and a roaring fireplace.

At first, I assume he’s going to lay me down on the coach, but instead he makes a beeline for the plush rug in front of the fireplace, laying me down gently but then grabbing my wrists in his hands and pinning them above my head.

I lie there like that, my legs spread wide, still wrapped around his waist, staring up at him.

“Don’t ever toy with my heart again, Emma,” he says, his voice hard—but I can hear the plea within it. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

“I won’t,” I breathe, and I mean it. With every fiber of my being, I mean it. “I’m yours, Ezra. All of me.”

His eyes darken, and he presses his arousal against me. He works his jaw, staring down at me with a desire I never thought possible. “Naked,” he demands. “Now.”

He releases my wrists long enough for me to pull my t-shirt up over my head; then reach behind my back, unclasping my bra.

I fiddle with my jeans, and once I’ve unbuttoned them, Ezra leans back, grabs the waistband, and slides them off of me. He does the same with my panties, leaving me completely nude in the glow of the fireplace.

He pins me back down with one hand holding both wrists above my head, and I pant, staring up at him, waiting for his next move. He lazily draws his finger along my skin, sliding along my stomach, making circles on my breast, around my nipple.

He leans down to press his lips against my ear. “Sweetheart, should I punish you for being so bad?” he whispers.

My heartbeat stutters. “Punish?” I repeat, equal parts fear and arousal coursing through me.

“I have half a mind to tie you up and torture you until you’re begging for release,” he murmurs.

My core tightens, and I roll my eyes back. Fuck . My breath is coming out in ragged gasps. “Whatever you think I deserve … Mr. Bishop.”

“Fuck,” he groans against my neck, digging his fingers into the flesh of my breast .

He sits up suddenly, yanking me after him. He stands, leading me over to the couch where he sits and then pulls me over his lap so that my ass is in the air. I yelp quietly in surprise, but that yelp is replaced by a moan when he begins sliding his finger slowly along my slit.

I steady myself against the couch cushions, spreading my legs so he has better access.

“You like being bent over my knee like a bad girl?” he teases.

I bite my lip. To my utter shock, I do. I nod, but Ezra isn’t taking that.

“Do you?” he asks again, slipping a finger inside of me.

I gasp. “Yes,” I pant. “Yes, yes.”

I hear him chuckle, and he beings slowly thrusting that finger in and out of me. I moan, arching my back, pushing back against his hand, desperate for more.

He suddenly pulls his finger out of me, replacing it with a gentle yet firm slap across my ass. I shriek, more so in shock than from pain.

I feel Ezra lean down toward my ear. “Be a good girl and take what I give you,” he murmurs.

“Yes, Mr. Bishop,” I breathe .

I can feel his cock twitching beneath my belly at my use of his last name. I smirk, feeling all the more aroused knowing how much he likes that.

He inserts his finger back inside me, quickly adding a second to the mix, and soon I’m a whimpering mess while Ezra fingerfucks me to his heart’s content. I can feel my orgasm building, and I know Ezra can feel it too, because he roughly pulls out of me just before I tumble over the edge.

I whimper in frustration but resign myself to my fate. It’s torture, but I’m loving every second of it.

He starts again, working me up, up, up until I’m almost there, and then snatching my release away with a satisfied smirk. He does it again. And again. And again. Until I’m writhing on his lap, crying, begging, unable to think of anything other than him, him, him.

“ Ezra ,” I whimper.

“How long do you think you can take it, sweetheart?” he asks me.

I grip the couch, summoning every ounce of strength I have. “As long as you … need me to,” I stutter.

He caresses my clit, murmuring in approval. “That’s my good girl.”

He shifts, urging me to get up. I do, on wobbly legs. He stands, pointing to the floor. “On your hands and knees,” he instructs .

I do as he says, any semblance of dignity gone. At this point, I’ll do anything and everything for this man. Whatever he wants.

He slides down his sweatpants, revealing his hard cock. I feel him moving up behind me, and I then I feel the tip of him at my entrance. I moan in anticipation, sure I’ll come from just the feel of him inside of me.

He grips my hips, readying himself, and then he slowly slides the length of him inside of me. I gasp as he stretches my walls, splitting me open in the most delicious way possible. But he’s not gentle for long.

He immediately starts thrusting, jostling my body as he fucks me. He reaches for my hair at the base of my neck, pulling my head back as he pumps into me. I gasp and moan, submitting my body to him.

“You promise to be my good girl from now on?” he asks between thrusts.

“Yes,” I pant, the pressure within my core rising and rising. “I promise.”

“You’re mine ,” he growls. “Mine to love, mine to protect,” he thrusts into me—hard, “and mine to fuck.”

I cry out as my orgasm crashes through me. My limbs shake, and I lurch forward, my arms no longer able to hold me up. Ezra follows close behind, stilling as he empties himself inside of me.

He pulls out, quickly gathering me up in his arms as the waves of my orgasm continue to wash through me. I cling to him, wrapped against his chest, as I come down from the high, whimpering softly.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I mean it,” he whispers. “You’re mine, Emma.”

I reach up to gently cup his face.

He smiles. “And I’m yours.”