Stolen Heart (Bride of the Billionaire)

In an instant, my coveralls are down at my waist. With a single hand, he slides my sports bra up and exposes my breasts to him again. This time, there’s no hesitation. He leans right in and kisses my nipples like they’re sweet little candies. My mouth falls open and I collapse into his arms.

They’re strong. He catches me with ease and spins me like we’re dancing, then hoists me onto the kitchen island and lays me on my back before him. When I look up, the desire in his face is unmistakable. I’ve thought about losing my virginity many times before—every girl has. But none of my fantasies ever came close to this moment.

Zander Duke. He’s the only man that seems capable now of claiming me. He’s the only man I would want at this moment, and as he hooks his fingers in the straps of my panties and pulls, the full reality of the situation hits me, and I let out a moan.

“Christ, look at that gorgeous pussy,” Zander mutters as he pulls my panties and coveralls down at the same time. Now I’m lying naked beneath him on the island, like a freshly-prepared meal only for him. “Every inch of your body is perfection, sweetie. Not even a master painter could capture your beauty.”

It’s a good thing I’m already on my back; the intensity of his gaze could level me. He peels his shirt off, and I see his sculpted torso. Muscles upon muscles, chiseled and defined. His abs ripple as he tosses it aside and I see the two v-lines pointing down into his pants, igniting my imagination. When I hear his belt buckle click, I begin to writhe beneath him.

I’ve never thought of myself as sexy. I’m a mess at work, with coveralls and no makeup, and when I’m at home, I’m in sweatpants, my hair’s a mess, and I’m speckled with paint. But the way Zander’s looking at me has me feeling things I’ve never felt before.

“I wish I’d met you sooner,” he says as he slides his pants down, exposing his carved lower abs to me. His boxers hang low and I can already see the bulge beneath them. The warm feeling inside me spreads between my thighs as I get wet for him…

…wetter.

“All those wasted nights I could have spent with you,” he whispers as he leans down over me, dwarfing me with his size, trapping me between his bulging biceps. “I don’t even deserve something so beautiful as you.”

“Don’t say that,” I tell him as I trace his high cheekbone with my knuckle. “Of course you deserve me. Look how easily you stole me…”

“But I can’t steal you now, sweetie,” he purrs back. “I need to take you, but you need to give yourself to me. I need to hear the words from you. Tell me, sweetie. Tell me you’re mine.”

I lower my eyes but keep them on him. My chest is heaving with desire. Of course I’m his. I think I knew from the moment he wrapped his arms around me at the Met.

“I…I’m yours.”

With one swift movement, Zander spreads my legs wide and gets down on his knees in front of me. When his tongue touches me down there, I whimper, and my legs begin to shudder.

“Christ, look at this fresh little pussy,” he mutters, his breath warm against my thighs. “I bet so many men have fantasized about being your first, sweetie. How many of them wished they were here now? But that’s not happening. You’re only for me, aren’t you?”

“Y—yes!”

I’m wet, dripping even, and completely unprepared for what happens next.

His tongue, warm and strong, traces a perfect line up my eager slit, causing me to shake. Then he finds my clit and rolls it gently. Each tiny flick sends a jolt of sensation through me like nothing I’ve ever known.

Again I moan, and Zander buries his tongue in me.

“Fuck!”

He tongue-fucks me hard. With each stroke, his nose presses against my clit. For a second, I’m self-conscious until I hear him take a deep breath in and groan like it’s the greatest thing in the world.

“Goddamn it, sweetie,” he growls into me. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back with you.”

“What do you mean?” Hold back? I don’t want him to hold back.

“Your first time should be soft and sweet,” he tells me. “Sensual. I don’t want to be rough with you and hurt you. I’m big. And you’re already going to be so fucking tight.”

His want is overpowering. But this is more than just regular dirty talk. I may not have heard it before, but I don’t need to. He means what he’s saying. “Do what you want to me, Zander. I just want to make you feel good.”

“Christ, sweetie, you drive me fucking crazy. And I’m going to make you feel so good that you won’t even know what happened to you.”

There’s no hope of a response as Zander’s tongue finds my ready pleasure button again. Dripping with arousal, my hips move on their own, grinding against him, each surge of pressure driving me closer and closer to the edge. No amount of fantasizing could ever compare to this.

“I’m gonna come, Zander…” I don’t know why, but telling him this makes me feel good. Makes me feel sexy.

His reply is a simple groan, and as he slides a finger inside me, I go over the edge.

My eyes and mouth open wide. My back arches off the island, and I grab the corners and hold on for dear life as the most powerful orgasm I could ever imagine rolls through me like a typhoon.