Billionaire's Second Chance - Page 475

She whispered into my kisses, her lips wet against me, "I just want you, Fenton. Please."

I lowered myself into her, the wet, tight heat of her pulling all the air out of my lungs. I panted against the slope of her neck, buried deep in the incredible sweetness of her. Then, she wrapped her legs around my waist and started a rhythm against me that I had to answer. Our lips found each other again and we caught each other's cries of pleasure as our bodies crested. I poured into Kya, falling deeper into her than I ever thought possible.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kya

Shocked by Fenton's lips against mine, I pushed my hands up over the hard ridges of his chest. The taut friction of his muscles under my fingertips parted my lips in awe. He took opportunity of the opening to plunge deeper into the kiss. I slid my hands up and gripped the hard ridge of his shoulders as his hands slid around my back and locked me against him. Every chiseled contour of his body fit my curves and I melted against him.

Fenton kissed me with an insatiable hunger. I was starved for his lips on mine, our bodies shifting and fitting closer together. All of the threats and the terror were nothing compared to being apart from him. I curled my body closer and opened myself further to his devouring kisses.

His hands pressed my shoulders to his chest then slid down to the curve of my back. I arched against him as he leaned to taste more from my moaning lips. When his wide hands pulled me up against him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. Fenton strode across the living room, his lips so intent on mine that my head spun. I was glad for the solid strength of him, the locked muscles of his arms wrapping me close. Too dizzy to know anything but him, I wrapped my legs around his hips.

Fenton moaned as I pressed close to him. He moved his hands down farther, one iron arm supporting me while his other hand caressed the bottom of my thigh. The trace of his fingers left a shiver of electricity that lit up my senses. The jolt of it rocked me against him and his kisses slowed as his breath grew heavy.

I opened my eyes as he lowered me to the soft rug in front of the fireplace. His eyes burned like blue flames as he gently cradled my head and settled on top of me. Then, his eyes dropped back to my lips and he groaned, still hungering for more. I tangled my hands in his black hair, answering every twist and taste with my own cries of pleasure.

My dress had already fallen up to my waist, but I tugged to bring it higher. Fenton's hands followed and slipped underneath the hem, pushing back the light fabric as he explored higher to the curve of my hip. His hands against my bare skin ignited my whole body.

"Please, Fenton, I want you. Just you," I whispered through wet kisses. I tugged his shirt up and over his head before our lips found each other again.

He answered by rearing back onto his knees and pulling me up against him. His hands swept up the sides of my body under my dress and pulled it off over my head in one easy sweep. As I fumbled with his belt and buttons, he unclasped my bra. He caught my breasts in eager hands, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in a sheer caress that caused a lightning flash of desire.

I lie back on the lush rug and let him trail kisses down my leg as he tugged my panties free. Fenton then pulled himself up over me, the virile ridges of his muscles skimming my curves. I opened myself to him, pulling him down for a kiss. When he lowered

himself into my wet, tight heat, the air flooded out of his lungs in one long guttural groan. He panted against the slope of my neck, buried deep.

One shift from him and I cried out at how he pressed so perfectly into the throbbing center of my pleasure, spurring me to wrap my legs around his waist and start a rhythm he had to answer. His breath was still ragged as his lips sought mine again. I smiled against his sweet kisses and he caught my cries of pleasure as our bodies crested together. He poured into me, touching me deeper than I knew as possible.

When we could breathe again, Fenton sighed. "Why did you go after those men? I need you safe. I need you right here."

I ran my fingers through his hair and down the strong stretch of his back. He rolled on his side and tucked me against him, his eyes still questioning me.

"I didn't think about being safe," I said. "I'm not used to having other people worry about me."

"What about your parents? I imagine the Allens would not approve of their daughter chasing thugs across Las Vegas," he said. He cradled my head in the crook of his arm and combed my hair out across the rug.

"I've been on my own since I was 18. They died just before I went to college," I told him.

Fenton stopped his caresses and leaned down to kiss me. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"I'm just used to taking care of myself," I said. "How about you? Does the Morris family keep close tabs on you? Or do you call every Sunday like the dutiful son."

He chuckled as he reached for his pants and got up. "Speaking of Sundays, I could eat an entire Sunday dinner right about now. Do you suppose the kitchen is stocked in this place?"

I sat up and shielded myself behind the sofa. He was opening and closing cabinets, comfortable in his state of half-dress. I skipped the bra and settled for tugging my dress back over my head. I still felt the shockwaves of my orgasm as I tugged on my panties and joined him in the kitchen.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said with a wink. He pulled out a bottle of champagne and a pitcher of fresh orange juice. "Looks like that chef left you fully stocked, even though he disapproved of the company you keep."

"I don't mind your company – if you can do something good with those eggs. I'm starving," I said.

Fenton laughed and handed me a mimosa. "Lucky for both of us, I make a mean omelet."

I leaned on the counter and the neckline of my dress dropped open. His eyes tripped over me and his breath caught. I felt my cheeks get hot, and I stood up and laughed. After what we had just done not 20 feet away, it was ridiculous to still feel shy.

"I like this new look on you, Ms. Allen," he said. "It might suit you more than the whole buttoned-up thing you've been working."

I ruffled my hair and shot him a look, happy when he fumbled the spatula he was holding. "I don't know, this time last year, I was in Palm Springs at a golf tournament. Five star everything without the gambling. Not too shabby."

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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