The Billionaire's Proposal

anxiously around the abandoned room.

“Nick,” I whispered, extracting my face from his just long enough to gaze nervously into his eyes, “are you sure we should be doing this here? Maybe we should—”

“Yes,” he interrupted, running his hands along my lacy bra, “we should absolutely be doing this here.” He unhooked the clasp with a single finger, and the thing slid right off.

“I’m serious,” I giggled, wriggling around as his lips came down to investigate, “we’re in the middle of a fucking exhibition ring. That irony doesn’t bother you?”

“Nothing,” he kissed, “can bother me,” another kiss, “right now.”

My back arched up in pleasure, and he ran two fingers from my chin all the way down my stomach. Then a little lower. Then he started getting creative.

“Oh my gosh,” I breathed, biting my lip with a moan as his fingers flicked and teased me.

In hindsight, I didn’t know why I was surprised. The guy had always been good with his hands. But this was another fucking level entirely. At one point, his started trailing little kisses down my stomach, stopping only when my chain of diamonds got caught in his hair.

We battled with them for a moment, kissing and laughing, until he pulled himself free and brought his lips back to meet mine. All the while, his fingers never missed a beat.

There was a pressure building. One I didn’t have a hope to control.

“Nick,” I whispered, if only to say his name. My body arched and writhed against his hand as my lips came up to kiss his throat. “Nick.”

“That’s it—enough.” He yanked down the elastic band around his waist—just as wanting and impatient as I was. “I can’t take anymore.”

He threw apart my knees and positioned himself in between, but before we could come together, I backed suddenly away.

“Wait,” I gasped, propping myself up on my elbows, “not yet.”

He stared at me incredulously, trying to catch his breath.

“What the fuck do you mean, not yet?” He shook his head and reached for me again. “I said enough, Abby. No more waiting.”

It seemed as though Mr. Hunter was used to getting his way both in and out of the bedroom. My lips twisted up in a little smirk. He would have to be taught some manners.

“And I said to wait.” I shimmied backwards, out of his grasp—and shoved him hard in the chest, pushing him to his feet in the process. “There’s something we need to sort out first. A score we need to settle.”

Keeping direct eye contact all the time, I stretched up onto my knees.

He was standing before me, naked and ready, a look of breathless confusion on his face.

This time, it was me who took a second to feast my eyes—letting them enjoy all those parts I’d never seen before. All those parts that had already gone into New York legend. An impish grin spread up my face, and he actually bowed his head with a little blush.

Then, for the second time that night, I beckoned him invitingly forward.

You won the fight, you get the reward...

For a second, he just stood there—staring. Then, tentatively, he took a step closer. His body stiffened as I wrapped my hands around his legs. It stiffened even more when I kissed him first on one hip, and then on the other. He sucked in a quick breath when I took him in my hand, and trailed a gentle finger down the side of my face.

“You said you’d never end up on your knees,” he breathed, flashing me a little smile.

I glanced up with a roguish grin.

“And you said you’d never beg.”

His face froze.

“Beg? Who says I’m going to—FUCKING HELL!”

His head fell back in complete abandon as I took him into my mouth.