Page 126 of The Billionaire's Redemption

“Not girlfriend,” I finally say. “But we’re involved. That’s it. I don’t want a ring. Not yet.”

A reluctant smile tugs at his lips. “Well, I wouldn’t have minded calling you my wife.”

“You need to slow down, or you’ll fall on your face,” I warn him, trying not to show how overwhelmed I feel.

“I’m sure you’ll be there to help me up.” He kisses me again, sweetly now.

This time, when his hands slither under my shirt, I can’t find it in me to stop him. When he kisses me like this, so tenderly, my heart just slips and falls.

“Eth—I have to go?—”

“Alright,” he agrees insincerely. “Go.”

His hand cups my breast, his touch possessive and his fingers pinch my pebbled nipple. My chest has been sensitive lately, and when he kneads it, leaving marks on my pale skin, I want to cry out. It sends streaks of pain and pleasure straight down to my core, and I bite down on my lower lip.

His fingers are making quick work of my blouse buttons, and his other hand is within my skirt, tugging at my panties.

“Why’re you so wet?” he murmurs against my ear as he nibbles on the lobe.

My pussy clenches in need, desperate for something to fill that gaping emptiness inside me. But he doesn’t push in his fingers. He just runs them along the wet seam, gathering my juices before offering them to me.

“Open your mouth.” When he uses that tone, his orders are absolute. There is no room for me to defy him. Not when he has me sitting in his lap, my shirt open and my breasts covered in a lacy black bra, on display for him. No, I handed over control to him the moment I let him kiss me.

And he knows it.

My lips part, my eyes on his, and he pushes in the fingers, resting them on my tongue.

“Now be a good girl and clean them.”

His voice is husky, rubbing across my skin like gravel and honey, stirring something deep and dangerous inside me. My lips close on his fingers, and I let my tongue run over them, sucking, licking, all the while holding his gaze.

His eyes darken, something feral stirring beneath the surface.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “So fucking obedient when I have my fingers in you.”

A moan slips from me, my eyes fluttering shut as he pulls his fingers out. His hand seizes my jaw, and this time the kiss is hard and fierce. He releases my jaw, trailing those fingers to myhair and grabbing a fistful as he tilts my head just the way he wants. There is nothing gentle about the kiss. It’s a claiming, as if he’s telling me that my body is his alone.

Every movement is dominance wrapped in desire, every brush of his tongue, a demand.

I gasp in his mouth, and he takes that, too, swallows it like it belongs to him, like I belong to him.

He pulls away, and when he does, my body is a tangle of need and desire. I want his hands on me, I want him in me. My panties are soaked. I can feel the stickiness between my legs as I move.

But when he gazes at me, the smirk in his eyes has my heart sinking.

“You can go to lunch now.”

He helps me stand, fixing my shirt while I stare at him, stunned.

Not again.

Tell me I didn’t fall for it again.

My breathing is hard, every nerve on fire, my panties so wet I might have to throw them out, and this jerk is smiling at me as if nothing is wrong?

My jaw hardens. Does he think I’ll beg him? Does he really think he can manipulate me into asking him to fuck me?

I paste a smile on my face, my eyes narrowed. Reaching with my hand, I pat his cheek. “I think I’ll take the rest of the day off today.”