Wicked Bad (The Billionaire's Fake Finace 1)

I reached up and unfastened the shoulder on my dress and let it fall to the floor. Tonight I had on a white lacy strapless bra and a matching thong.

“Everything.” His voice was hard and it matched his eyes. Something was missing. Last night he had been forceful and demanding, but he was there in every moment. This Madden was different. His thumb flicked over my nipple and I couldn’t stop the involuntary shudder of pleasure.

He still knew how to play my body.

With very little effort, his touch ignited the familiar ache inside me. He reached up and undid his tie, then unbuckled his belt. He moved until he stood behind me and I heard the swish of fabric. I had time to register that he held his tie in his hands before it covered my eyes. He wrapped it around my head and tied it off, not tight enough to hurt, but enough so that I could see nothing.

My pulse thundered in my chest. Even though I was mad at him, I could not deny that I wanted him too.

“Bend over.” His hand on my upper back guided me to the table. Glass felt cool under my cheek, on my overly sensitive nipp**les. “Hands behind your back.”

Once he had them secured with his belt, I heard his pants hit the floor.

“This is what you wanted?” He dragged a finger along my slit, spreading the wetness that was already gathering inside of me.

“This is what you expected from me?” He slid a finger into me and I moaned. I couldn’t move and was at his mercy. Pleasure swept through my body, but before it could center on just one spot, he withdrew.

I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, then he moved closer, his thighs against the back of my legs. He rubbed the head of his co**ck up and down just once before thrusting inside me. The table rocked and I groaned loudly. Almost at once, Madden started to thrust forcefully. His fingers dug into my hi**ps, holding me, using my body as he wished.

Pressure started to build inside me. His hands left my hi**ps and one rested on my lower back, pushing down. I felt him gather my hair around his other hand and he tugged until my neck was arched back.

The angle shifted and now he was pounding right on the spot inside my slick walls. I cried out and stars danced behind my eyelids. I needed to move but could not. It would be Madden who had to push me over the edge.

His movement became faster, harsher, and I could hear the low growl building inside his chest.

I pushed up onto my toes and arched as much as I physically could. It was all I needed. Pleasure exploded inside me and I cried out Madden’s name. He drove mercilessly into me until his own hoarse shout filled the room.

Almost immediately he pulled out and undid my hands. My fingers prickled as the blood rushed back into them. I used my hands to push up off the table and remove the blindfold. The bathroom door clicked shut and tears burned my eyes.

I wanted it to be like last night.

Last night felt special. Tonight...tonight had been sex. Nothing more. And that’s when it hit me. I went to the bed, crawled into it, and pulled the covers up to my chin. Suddenly, I was exhausted.

I still couldn’t understand how his entire attitude had changed so drastically when I’d asked him a simple question. Or maybe it hadn’t been about the question at all.

Maybe he’d just grown tired of me. The weekend, after all, was nearly over.

I heard the shower start and closed my eyes. He was shutting me out tonight.

I didn’t want our last few hours together to be filled with hostile silence. Somehow, I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And if I dreamed that Madden held me in the night—if perhaps his strong arms around me felt as real as anything else we’d done together—the memory of it was almost gone by morning.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I saw Madden sitting in the chair next to the bed dressed in yet another suit. The lines on his face were gone. He looked relaxed. When he met my stare, he even smiled.

“Morning,” I managed to get out. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“I’ve figured out what story we’ll feed to the press to distract them from my old roommate’s claims. It’s a sure thing.” He stood up then and came over to the bed where he sat on the edge.

“That’s good right?” I asked.

He cupped my face and ran his thumb along my jaw. Another one hundred and eighty degree turnaround from last night. “It’s very good,” he agreed.

I leaned into his touch. Soon we would get back on the plane and that would be the end of all this.

As much as I knew it was all according to plan, a piece of me longed to have more time with this strange, magnetic man.

“So how are you going to throw them off that story?” I asked, looking up at his him.

His dark eyes glittered and he leaned down, his lips inches from mine. “Easy,” he whispered. “We’re getting engaged.”