Bound by Him (The Billionaire's Club 3)

She trembled as she watched his face. He was fully concentrating as he knelt at her feet, sliding a hand up her dress to tug her panties down her legs, then his eyes watched her reaction as he rose to unzip her dress. She let him, remembering how many times he’d done this, loving it this time even more.

When her dress pooled at her feet, he unhooked her bra. All of a sudden, she stood before him, naked. She felt virginal and prized as his intense gaze coasted along her figure, heating every inch that it caressed.

She didn’t think the look in his eyes could possibly get any fiercer.

It could.

His eyes glowed with a desire so deep, her core boiled as he visually gobbled her up. He took in her rounded shoulders, the generous swell of her breasts. They felt heavy and full under his stare, her nipples eagerly jutting forward. His heated gaze then coasted down her abdomen, past the flare of her hips, until it snagged on the small thatch of silken curls between her legs.

The raw, unabashed look that settled on his face was so galvanizing, it sent a tremor through her. Face tight with lust, he eased her down onto the bed and came with her, one of his legs tangling between hers as he trailed one hand up her side.

Ripples of pleasure spread through her as he palmed one bare breast, the warmth of his hand seeping through her skin. He avidly watched as he tweaked the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then his eyes flicked up meaningfully to hers. “I claim what’s mine,” he rasped as he bent his head to suck the tip of one breast into the hot cavern of his mouth.

She arched with a soft cry, tunneling her fingers through his hair. “Andrew.” He cocked his head to lave the other breast, claiming it with a heated whisper against her skin. “Mine.” And then proving it, reminding her, as he drew the bud deep into his mouth until Whitney was tossing her head, breathless and in pure, red-hot bliss.

As he continued torturing her with his lips, he took her hand in his and curled her fingers around the throbbing length of his erection. He was so big, she couldn’t form a fist. He was so hot, he scorched her. And he was so beautiful, she couldn’t breathe. He held her gaze as he squeezed his fist around her, forcing her to tighten her hold, and said gutturally, “Yours.”

Her throat closed with emotion and she nodded her head, completely eroticized. His piercing hung from the underside of his shaft, just a hair from where the crown began, and the thick gold hoop dangled heavily from his erect cock.

Tantalized beyond her mind, she stroked her fingers along the smooth gold ring first, noticing she could slide her little finger through the opening of the hoop. Andrew slid his hands into her hair again, his breath in her ear. “Only yours . . .”

He planted a titillating kiss in the hollow of her neck, then another on her chin, breathing heavily as she tentatively caressed him.

“When did you get pierced?” she asked, frightened and excited by the novelty. His cock glinted with the gold hoop, thrilling her so powerfully, she quivered to her toes.

“The day I left you, so that every erection reminded me I couldn’t have you.”

His words both confused and mesmerized her. “What do you mean?”

“When I left, Whitney . . . I wanted to mark my cock for you, so that every time it hardened I would dream of all the ways I would pleasure you when I returned. I imagined the ecstasy you would feel . . . how you’d be undone with it. We both would.”

Feeling desperately possessive, she stroked his pulsing

length, up and down, gently at first. A trickle of liquid rose to the slit, milky white against his tan. Her mouth watered as she wiped it up with her thumb and her mouth watered even more when a new drop of semen rose forth. She picked it up with her finger and brought it to her mouth, her tongue coming out.

She licked it.

He lost it.

His eyes almost frighteningly dark, he spread out her arms and pulled her legs around his hips with thrilling intent.

He grabbed the base of his cock and teased it across the entrance of her pussy, the move somehow also scraping his piercing over her folds.

Eyes wild, he trailed the swollen head of his shaft to fondle it across her clitoris, and a drop of semen dribbled off the tip and onto her clit. He pressed the liquid in with his thumb, rubbing it on her flesh, his eyes on fire as he slid down her body again.

Red-hot fingers of pleasure slid along her spine, her vagina contracting painfully when he thrust his tongue into her sheath only fleetingly, testing her entry.

“Andrew.”

He sucked the nub of her clitoris into his mouth, and her vagina clenched with each melting pull of his mouth. Taking advantage of each tightening sensation, he thrust two fingers inside her. She caught her breath at the agonizingly delicious invasion, then cried out, “Please” and locked his face to her. Passion pounded the blood through her sex, her heart, her head. His fingers quickened, and suddenly they shifted places, and his thumb rolled her clit around in delicious little jabs while his tongue speared into her, pushing her to the brink.

“Please, please, please . . .” she begged. “I need you . . . I need you . . .”

He released his breath in one low hiss, coming up to wedge himself between her legs. “You’re so excited, so wet, Whitney,” he told her, and she mewed and rocked her hips, eager for his cock. He pinned her hips down and pushed the first few inches of his erection into her. She yelled out, and he growled and held her pinned, watching with glimmering eyes as he plowed another two inches inside of her.

Pleasure engulfed her, made her strain to get more of him, hard and pulsing, inside her.

His head fell back on a groan and she could see that he fought for control. He pushed farther in, gaining three more inches. Then, when they both moaned in unison, he thrust inside her, the flesh of their abdomens slapping as he went completely in.