Page 9 of Tempting the Billionaire (Billionaire Brothers #5)

He smiles, changing the topic to something lighter, asking how my day was at work and what I would normally spend my weekends doing.

By the time we’ve finished our wine, I’m curled up next to him, giggling over something he just said, surrounded by a warm, fuzzy feeling I think is half part alcohol, half part him .

He twirls a lock of hair around his finger, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Emma,” he says quietly.

I crane my neck to look up at him. “Have you been a good girl?” he asks, and my belly clenches. “Did you do what I asked?”

I nod slowly.

He raises an eyebrow, almost as if he doesn’t believe me.

I straighten up. “I did,” I insist. “I mean—didn’t.” I bite my lip. “You know what I mean.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans toward me. “Who knew you were so perfectly obedient?”

He reaches out to run his thumb over my bottom lip, gently pulling so that my mouth is just barely open.

My breath hitches in my throat, my blood roaring in my ears.

I’m lost in those eyes of his, pinning me to the spot.

I hate to admit it, but he could ask anything of me, and I’d do it. I’m at his complete and utter mercy.

And fuck, does he know it.

He rails his thumb down my face, down the side of my neck, then follows the deep v of my dress, ending right between my breasts, his eyes on mine the whole time .

He reaches for the strap of my dress, gently pulling it over my shoulder. He does the same with the other, and then he takes the top of my dress and begins pulling down.

A nervous flutter overtakes me before I remember that he’s already seen me naked before. He’s already seen all of me.

He slides the top of my dress down, revealing my full, bare breasts—the nature of the dress didn’t allow for a bra.

He takes them in, slowly caressing them one at a time, squeezing and then pinching my nipples. I gasp at the sensation, and his smirk widens. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, rubbing circles with his thumbs over my nipples. I moan quietly, throwing my head back.

I can feel the dampness growing between my thighs. I’m so worked up and so deprived, I truly could come just from this. If he just keeps going …

“How do you feel about being a good girl for me one more time?” he asks.

I nod, ready to do anything he asks of me.

He smiles with satisfaction. “And you’re okay with me being a bit …

dominant?” he asks. “You like that?” He’s keeping up that same air of power, but beneath the facade is a genuine question.

He wants to make sure I’m okay with this.

And despite not truly kn owing what all this entails, I find myself nodding. Whatever it is, I want more of it. Now.

At my nod, he stands, pulling me with me, and then he places his hands on my shoulders, guiding me to my knees in front of him. I stare up at him, my bare breasts heaving in anticipation as he slowly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. He pulls out his cock, and my eyes widen.

Holy shit. Sure, I’ve given head before, but will that even fit in my mouth?

He strokes it a few times and, taking in my expression, simply says, “You can take it.” He reaches down to take a handful of my hair, angling my head upward to meet his gaze. “Tap my leg if you want to stop,” he tells me, and then he guides his cock into my mouth.

I take it as deep as I can—which, truthfully, isn’t very deep. Keeping his eyes on mine, he slowly slides his cock in and out of me. I obediently take him, feeling myself growing wetter by the second.

“Good girl,” he praises, and I just about fall apart.

Then, grabbing my hair tighter, he begins to pump harder and deeper. I gag, tears coming to my eyes as his cock hits the back of my throat, sliding deeper than any man has ever gone into me. I moan, grabbing his legs to steady me .

“Relax, sweetheart,” he tells me, but doesn’t let up. “Take it like a good girl.”

I moan in affirmation, staring up at him, my expression one of desperation.

Then he pumps harder. I squeal, feeling both more aroused and more uncomfortable than I’ve ever been.

And despite how my body seemingly wants to reject what’s happening, I can’t help but desire more and more and more.

The idea of me, half naked kneeling before this man while he has his way with me, fucking my mouth into submission, is just about the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And I desperately want it to never end.

I squeeze my eyes shut as more tears come to my eyes, moaning desperately as he continues to pump in and out of me, keeping a tight hold on my hair.

I hear him groaning quietly, and I open my eyes to see his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with desire. Suddenly he pulls out, and I gasp in shock as his cum sprays all over me neck and chest. Panting, I stare down at myself in shock, his liquid coating my chest, sliding down my breasts.

But Ezra wastes no time. Reaching down, he hooks his arms under my armpits, hoisting me back up onto the couch and then spreading my legs, kneeling between them. I stare down at him in shock.

He grins up at me, slowly sliding a hand up my thigh, pulling my dress with it. Once he reaches my waist, he snakes a finger under the band of my panties and slowly, tantalizingly pulls them down my legs, tossing them aside.

With one hand on each knee, he spreads me open, completely wide and bare before him. I feel myself redden at the sight of me—my black dress bunched around my waist, my pussy bare and exposed before him, my breasts on full display and covered in his own cum.

But he sure seems to love it.

He slides a finger along my inner thigh, causing my breath to quicken. When he reaches my slit, a deep moan escapes me, and I lean my head back against the couch cushions.

“Has it been hard not letting yourself find release this past week?” he asks me, sliding his finger up and down my slit.

I nod. “Yes,” I whimper.

“Did you think about me, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Yes,” I moan again.

“What did you think about?”

I blush harder.

“Tell me,” he says, sliding a finger inside of me.

I gasp. “I—I thought about … about you touching me. ”

“Where?”

“There. Everywhere,” I pant.

He starts slowly pumping his finger in and out of me. “You thought about me touching you even though you weren’t allowed to make yourself come?” he says. “You poor thing.”

I whine, bucking my hips toward him.

I hear him chuckle. I’d be angry at him for toying with me like this if I wasn’t loving it so much. If I wasn’t desperate for more.

“And what do you want now?” he presses.

I lean my head up to look into his eyes. He’s smirking at me, his eyes alight with amusement. Fuck, he’s enjoying this. Having me at his mercy. “I want you to make me come,” I moan quietly.

“Can you beg for it, sweetheart?” he asks, inserting a second finger inside me, causing me to gasp in pleasure.

“Oh god, please ,” I whine, my breasts heaving with each breath. “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he says, pumping just a bit harder. “I suppose I could reward you.”

Still pumping his fingers in and out of me, he lowers his head between my legs .

A shriek escapes me as his tongue finds my clit, and I know it won’t take long for me to fall over the edge. He runs slow, deliberate circles around my clit, still fingering me. I grip the couch cushions beside me, gasping and moaning as he does his worst.

“Oh god,” I cry as my climax nears. “Oh god, Ezra!” I shriek.

My orgasm tears through me, and I lie there, panting, as the waves continue to wash through me. Staring at the ceiling as the waves subside, it finally occurs to me what I’ve just done. Ezra and me.

There’s no going back now.