The Billionaires: The Bosses (Lover's Triangle 2)

“That makes me even harder.”

His erection pressed against her hip. Bayli was dying to wrap her fingers around his shaft and pump heartily, driving him as crazy as he made her. Especially when his hand slipped behind the loose material of her shorts.

She let out a small cry at the skin-on-skin contact. He massaged her clit with more pressure. A quicker, circular motion that had her panting and clasping his biceps in a vise grip to keep herself steady. His mouth was on her neck and he lightly suckled. Her nerve endings jumped.

“Your skin tastes amazing,” he said, his voice thick with lust and need. “I bet your pussy tastes even better.”

Oh, God … His words … they sent her soaring. So that all it took was for him to ease two fingers into her and stroke her confidently as the heel of his hand continued rubbing her clit … and she erupted.

“Christian!” she called out as the climax raged through her veins and pulsated against every erogenous zone.

Her legs continued to shake, but he had a solid hold on her.

He let out a sharp grunt. “You’re so fucking tight,” he said. “And so responsive.”

Then he kissed her passionately, leaving her light-headed. Dazed.

Her inner muscles clutched his fingers, involuntarily seeking more.

Bayli still feared it might be a horrendous mistake giving in to this man. But her nipples screamed for his touch and her clit and pussy throbbed with fiery need for him.

It might be wrong to cave.

But it was inevitable.

“Christian,” she said, a sense of urgency in her quiet tone. Likely reflected in her eyes, too.

His jaw clenched briefly. “We should be naked.”

“Yes.”

Oh, God, yes!

His fingers withdrew from her and a shudder chased through her as even the tiniest of sensations was magnified by her hyperawareness of him. Jesus, she wanted him. It was a powerful carnal desire, unlike anything she’d ever known before.

All of her sensible reasoning remained scattered in the far recesses of her mind. Only her cravings for Christian resonated, penetrating the sexy haze clouding her brain.

Bayli’s fingers deftly released the buttons on his shirt. Christian removed the cuff links at his wrists while his gaze locked with hers. He’d barely shoved the accessories into his pocket when she pushed the material over his shoulders and down his rock-hard arms, yanking the hem from the waist of his pants and tossing the shirt aside.

She sucked in a breath. Stared at his defined pecs and ripped abs. As she’d suspected all along, he was fantastically built, his body as chiseled as his face. She wanted to drag her fingertips and her tongue over every inch of him. But he seemed to have something else in mind.…

He didn’t hesitate in peeling off her tee. Followed immediately by her shorts, which he slid down her legs as he knelt before her. She stepped out of the garment while his gaze roved her body, taking her in from the tips of her crimson-painted toes to what had to be seductively glowing eyes. Apparently not missing any of the parts in between, because when his gaze held hers it burned. His jaw worked again. She could only imagine what lascivious thoughts filled his mind. And grinned slyly at the endless possibilities.

Christian stood and took her by the hand, leading her to the double bed tucked into the alcove that somehow made this apartment a one bedroom by the landlord’s twisted logic.

With her free hand, she reached for the remote on one of the many shelves she’d installed in the cubbyhole, since there was no room for a nightstand. The bed took up the entire space and was pressed against the inner walls, which were also adorned with framed prints featuring spa-blue suede mats to complement her overall color palette.

Bayli hit a couple of buttons on the universal remote and the pillar candles throughout the apartment flickered on, along with the three dimly lit, inexpensive, snowflake-shaped chandeliers strung from the ceiling of the alcove. There were pocket doors for privacy, but all they really did was bring on a massive bout of claustrophobia when closed, so she never bothered with them.

“This is nice,” Christian said. “Cozy. Intimate.”

A pale-blue duvet with a medium-weight down comforter concealed inside covered the bed and there was a light-gold satin quilted blanket at the foot. Tons of accent pillows.

She told him, “Since it’s always just been me sleeping here, it’s worked out pretty well. The guys I share a wall with are into the bar scene and don’t come home till after four on the weekends—and instantly crash. That’s if they’re not at their girlfriends’ places. So it’s usually fairly quiet.”

Still, he switched on her alarm clock, set to a classic jazz station. He winked at her as he said, “Just in case they come home early.”

Her stomach flipped. “Confident we’re going to get loud?”