Scoring Her (Billionaire Bad Boys 3.5)

Down the insides of her thighs, from her knees to the crease where leg turned into something else, I rubbed my hands, trailing a wet shine from top to bottom on the right one.

“See that?” I asked, and she nodded even though her eyes were closed.

“No, baby,” I said with a chuckle. “Open your eyes.”

She did, so I ran two fingers down the trail to call her attention to it once again. “All that is because you love me.”

She nodded even though I hadn’t asked a question.

“And you know I’m going to make you feel good.”

“Wes.”

“What, baby?” I asked. “Don’t want to wait?”

She shook her head almost violently, and with an answer as sound as that, I couldn’t even fathom the idea of denying her.

I leaned down and sucked the skin just below her belly button straight into my mouth, circling my tongue around it and humming on her taste. “Appetizer tastes good.”

She moaned and writhed a little, grabbing at the comforter on both sides and pushing her flesh farther into my mouth.

“I bet the entrée is going to be even better.”

“Please,” she whispered.

Down the bed, I settled onto my chest and threw her legs over my shoulders, licking a path along the now drying trail I’d created moments ago.

She couldn’t do anything more than whimper, the longing and alcohol finally mixing into something she no longer had any control over.

I rubbed two fingers around the edges of her clit before giving it a bump and watching as more excitement flooded the space below. With practiced ease, I pulled it up and around, coating the little nub with just the right flavor for my mouth.

“Mm,” I breathed, inhaling and closing my lips around the carefully placed moisture. I was never prepared for how good she was going to taste, and as a result, I pretty much immediately lost my mind and myself to the moment, eating at her with an intensity that didn’t build or dawdle, two fingers curling inside to rub at the spot that always pleased her while my other hand teased her asshole, now soaked with arousal.

She gasped and grabbed at my hair, pushing my face into her harder and forcing me to eat more. I thought my erection would punch through the bed if I didn’t fuck her soon.

And I needed to for more reasons for that.

I could see in her eyes that she’d be done as soon as her orgasm washed out, completely spent and comatose in a way that only a totally satisfied woman could be.

I broke the suction seal of my mouth, and she cried out.

“Don’t worry, baby. I promise I’ve got more for you.”

She nodded as I stood back and shoved my shorts off of my hips before climbing onto the bed and rubbing myself through the mess I’d left.

“Wes,” she whispered, and I smiled, leaning forward, pushing myself inside and rubbing my nose against hers.

“I love you too, Fred.”

She nodded, tiny tears reflecting in her eyes as I pushed my way home over and over again, perfecting the angle so that I rubbed against her clit with every move.

She looked poised to explode—tight, clenched eyes and open mouth, and I knew I had to hurry. But it wasn’t really any effort at all, she had me so worked up, and when she fell over the hill and squeezed me inside, I toppled right along with her.

Breathing heavily on top of her, I noticed the exact moment she faded away and fell sound asleep in my arms, my cock still inside of her.

I pulled out gently and brushed the hair from her flushed face before burying my face in the space between her shoulder and head.

I didn’t want to leave—ever.

So I did the exact opposite, climbing from the bed, tiptoeing into the bathroom to clean up, and then padding to the side table by the bed and opening the drawer.

It sat there, right on top, and I didn’t even hesitate before reaching in, opening the box, and pulling it out.

The bed squeaked only a little as I put a knee into it and reached for the delicate hand resting above her head and took care of business.

Carefully lifting her body up and pulling the covers down, I settled her inside and climbed in behind her to fall asleep happier than I’d ever been—linking our hands and hearts forever.

Warmth cocooned me, and I had the urge to purr like a kitten from my cozy spot inside Wes’s arms. I had no idea what time it was, but when I fluttered my eyes open, no rogue ray of light pierced their sensitive receptors. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and upon closer inspection, I realized the first hello of sun was still a little way off. Utter darkness still concealed the picturesque view behind the flowy white curtains of our hotel bedroom.

With unfocused eyes, I scanned from one piece of furniture to the next to find our clothes not only dangling from each one but also scattered across the floor in haphazard displays in between. Wes’s pants mingled with my dress, and the scraps of my underwear lay tattered to the side. I blushed at the reminder of just how badly I had needed Wes last night. What started as a mission to cheer the glum version of our friend Georgia up had turned into wild, uninhibited, highly vulgar dancing and one too many glasses of sangria. Hell, maybe two too many. Pain pierced my brain as I tried to sit up.

Shit. Yeah. Two too many.

Well past two a.m., I’d stumbled my way back to my hotel room, horny and needy and ready to do just about anything to seduce Wes into getting dirty and naked with me. I’d come up with an entire list on the elevator ride to the top, including something with my boobs and a complicated twist that my now sober, though hungover brain could no longer process.

Thankfully, seeing as I’d forgotten more than ninety percent of the things on the list by the time I finally figured out how to make the keycard open the door to the room, the seduction hadn’t required much effort.

God, I love this man.

He’d given me everything I had needed and craved and was so desperate for, plus so much more. Moments. Memories. Pleasure, both as expected physically and all the way in my soul. And that was quite a feat with a woman who couldn’t do much more than remember her own name, five sheets to the wind, and even more glasses of fruity wine deep.

We hadn’t just fucked until we both got off. No. There wasn’t an inch of skin left untouched, an ounce of me unloved—and I was certain that was my definition of heaven. Wes loving me and me loving Wes until we couldn’t feel any single thing but each other.

I’d do just about anything to have that for forever.

Wes stirred a little in his sleep, a groan and a deep inhalation in the hair at my neck just two of the things I loved most about our position, and I smiled. He was wrapped around me like a second skin, his arms holding me tightly and his warm, muscular body spooning me from behind.

Curious about the time, I carefully reached out with my left hand to tilt the alarm clock on the nightstand in my direction. The glowing numbers on the little black screen were an afterthought when my eyes caught sight of my ring finger.

Oh. My. God.

I blinked several times just to make sure what I was seeing was real and then forced them apart when the morning-after dry eye got the better of me.

This was the absolutely wrong time to lose the ability of sight.

Eyes thankfully open, I held my left hand out in front of me and just stared.

My reaction was supremely delayed, but when cognitive function finally caught up to what I was seeing, a gasp left my lungs in a hard whoosh and my heart fought to pound its way out of my chest.

Oh.

My.

God.

There was a ring on my finger.

The most beautiful, classic, sparkly, and gorgeous diamond solitaire ring sat on my left ring finger, and I hadn’t fucking put it there. More than that, I didn’t recollect anyone else doing it either.

I racked my brain for details of last night and couldn’t recall anything besides the massage and the dancing and the drinks and the gloriously naked Wes rocking my world into mind-blowing orgasms and then black peace—the last orgasm apparently had been so powerful it lulled me straight to sleep.

Aside from the details, and the hows and whys of what it was doing there, it was literally the ring of my dreams. If I could’ve created a Pinterest board with the exact particulars of my dream engagement ring, this pretty baby would have been it.

How in the hell did this perfect fucking ring get here?

I felt Wes stir awake behind me, and his arms tightened around my waist. His chin dug into the soft divot of my shoulder. “Morning, sweetheart,” he greeted with a raspy, sleep-filled voice.

But I didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. I could only stare in surprise and awe and downright amazement at my left hand spread painfully wide in front of me.

“You’re my life, Winnie Winslow,” Wes whispered into my ear, sliding his hand along the top of my arm and then curling around the bottom so that his palm met mine. “You and Lex are my whole life, and I don’t want to go another day without knowing that you are my wife and Lexi is my daughter. I want to love you both every single day for the rest of forever. I want to be both of your shoulders to lean on. I want to be your biggest supporter. I want to be your everything because you, my beautiful girl, are my everything.”

He pulled me around to face him, sides to the bed and faces only inches apart. Nose-to-nose and eyes locked so tight it felt physical, nothing could’ve broken our focus on one another.

“Last night, lying there asleep with a blush still tinting your satisfied cheeks, you were so close to my version of perfect, it hurt. I put that ring on your finger, and all the pain and any hint of almost went completely away. You were perfect. You are perfect. Will you marry me, Winnie Winslow?”