Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 6)

“I need you inside me,” I said.

When I couldn’t take it any longer, I opened up for him, eager, hungry. He needed no more invitation, because in the next second, he gently slid deep inside.

“You feel so good,” he said.

I moaned in pleasure. “You do too.”

He slowly thrust inside me, so I could adjust to his huge girth. We were both so ready, so close to the edge, that not a force in the world could have kept us apart. He kept his movements measured, calculated to bring about my most powerful responses.

James built the rhythm masterfully, rubbing his chest against my sensitive nipples, moving his mouth to lick my ear, to nip at the lobe, and then bite me softly just below my ear. I was yelping, twisting beneath him, digging my fingers into his hips and trying to pull him into me deeper and faster. But he wasn’t going to rush this. He held back, giving me soft strokes that went only so far, reducing me to frustrated growls that made him kiss me more. I was winding my legs around him, trying to anchor him to me, to drag him in deeper.

We made love for so long that I lost track of time.

When he gripped my calf, and pushed my leg to my chest so he could go deeper, it was to feel the cry from deep within me as he brushed my elusive g-spot.

I let out a single cry, then pressed my head into the pillow. I bit down on my lip as my eyes watered with the impossible force. I assumed I would be prepared for his repeat stellar performance, but he took my breath away like it was our first time.

Faster and faster he moved, harder and harder. Then, as if his mind-blowing pace was not enough, he had the nerve to reach one hand down between us, toying with my most secret places as he pressed his lips softly against mine.

Once he had me quivering and clutching at the bedsheets helplessly, he drove in and out of my supple heat until I was shattering around him. He kissed me, swallowed my screams, slowed his thrusts as I came back down, trembling, with tears clinging to my lashes. He kissed my top lip softly, soothing me until I opened my mouth for his tongue and he could taste me fully.

I gasped, closing my eyes as my back arched off the bed.

For a second, we simply stared at each other, each panting with silent, shallow breaths. He then softly kissed me, tenderly sweeping his tongue into my mouth with a gentleness that racked us both with intense desire. Then, moving with that delicious slowness, James sat down on the bed and pulled me gently into his lap.

It was an entirely different experience being on top, the one in control, so close to James’s face. I stared deeply into his eyes as I wrapped my legs slowly around his waist, then sank down on top of him. He gasped softly as his hands tightened around my back, but other than that, he remained perfectly still as I rocked my hips, swelling us both to even more pleasure with each gyration.

“Fuck, Della,” he panted, unable to remain still for very long.

His forehead dropped against my neck as his long fingers wrapped tightly around my waist to move me up and down on him. A low moan escaped his lips, and the next thing I knew, he fell backward. He lay flat on his back as I swayed against him. Again, his hands reached up to guide me, but I swatted them playfully away. I couldn’t help it. I enjoyed the power, enjoyed that fact that, for once, I was the one leaving him spinning and gasping for air.

There was another sharp cry, and his hips arched up into mine, grinding against me in pure delight. I bit down as hard as I could on my bottom lip but still couldn’t hide the euphoric smile that spread across my face as I threw all caution to the wind and rode him like it was last night of my life.

My hair flew around me as I rocked on him, feeling him stiffen harder and harder between my legs. At one point, he tried to flip us back over, as if he was unable and unwilling to wait even a second longer, but I anchored him beneath my legs and took my time, teasing him as I rolled my hips in a seductive circle. I took endless pleasure in the tortured moans that came from the man on the bed beneath me. His dark hair formed a halo around his head on the mattress as he lifted his hands to my breasts, only to drop them quickly to my waist, helping me crush my body against him as hard as we both dared.

“James,” I whispered as the feeling of sweet release began to sweep over me.

The second I said his name, as if it was the magic word, James lost himself entirely. He arched his back against the bed as his eyes snapped shut in a wave of euphoria. It took a second or two for him to recover, but as soon as he did, he stretched up on his elbows and pulled me down, forcing our lips together in a beautiful collision.

If my voice was his magic potion, his lips were mine, because the second he granted me the kiss I sought, I couldn’t help but let out another sharp cry, my body tightening and contracting around him as his arms wrapped tightly around my back. He held me close and let me ride it out, just smiling quietly as one hand came up to stroke the back of my hair.

“You’re my definition of perfect,” he said.

I was wrong when I said nothing could be better than that first night, I had to admit to myself. This—knowing his name and sinking into his arms... This is better.

Chapter 12

I WAS SURE I HAD ONLY dreamt that I had fallen into bed with the perfect man, and when I woke up, he was gone. “James?” I sat up sleepily, pushing my messy hair out of my eyes as I glanced around the room for him. The room was empty, and the sheets beside me were cold. “James, are you there?”

No one answered.

My phone was fully charged now. No important messages. I took it off the charger and shoved both the phone and the charger into my purse.

Worried that it was really just a dream after all, I groggily crawled out of his bed, slipped one of his expensive t-shirts over my head, and scampered noiselessly down the hall.

As far as I could tell, the house was vacant, and I saw no one in the rest of the upstairs, the living room, the parlor, or the kitchen. In fact, the only sign of life was his fancy espresso maker bubbling happily away on the counter, with an empty mug sitting beside it, accompanied by a bedraggled rose.

I picked up the flower and sniffed its fragrance, stroking its petals as a crooked grin crossed my face. Smitten with it, I tucked it behind my hair and filled the mug with coffee, then let the steam waft over my face as I made my way out to the balcony.