Marrying My Billionaire Hookup

And that’s hot as hell.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, his eyes aflame.

Excitement sparks along my spine. I roll over, then raise myself on my hands and knees and turn my head so I can look at our reflection.

Edgar positions himself behind me. “Tell me if anything feels wrong,” he says, caressing my belly.

His concern for me and our baby touches me. I arch my back, silently urging him.

He pushes forward. I watch his thick cock gliding into me. Holy God. It’s more erotic than I ever thought possible. Shivers run through me.

“That feels amazing,” I say. “More.”

Hissing softly, he starts to thrust. With every drive, a little bit of his control slips. I can see it on his face—the way his eyes glaze, the hunger blazing.

And as the veneers of civilization and control start to erode, he seems to become more animalistic. Raw. Immediate. Power vibrates tightly in every line of his gorgeous, lean body.

And I couldn’t want him more than I do now.

“Yes, yes!” I say, moving to the rhythm he sets.

It feels like I’m drowning in a pool of carnal delight. I moan as I sink deeper and deeper into the pleasure, words devolving into just sounds… Until, with a scream, I come hard, clenching around him.

He curses, his breathing rough and fast over the sound of his skin slapping against mine. The muscles in his arms and ass tighten, and he grips my hips hard, his head thrown back as he empties himself into me.

Pulling me closer until I’m cradled in his arms, he lies down. I wrap my arms around him…listen to his racing heartbeat…

…and start to slide down into sleep. For some reason, I think I hear him whisper, “I’m never taking you to Tempérane…”

He says something more, but I don’t quite catch it. The words coming out of his mouth are important, but I’m too exhausted.

We can talk about it later.

I let myself go.

Chapter Forty-Two

Edgar

The next morning, I’m up early. Jo’s curled against me, her warm weight sweet under the sheets. It’s tempting to stay in, maybe kiss her awake. My dick’s certainly eager enough.

But there’s work to be done. The more I can convince everyone—and myself—that I can be effective away from Tempérane, the more time I can spend in Los Angeles.

I don’t know what Dad thought he would get out of barging into my home last night, but now I want to be in Louisiana even less. He tries to call, but I ignore him. He should go back if he’s that concerned about being hands-on.

When I’m done with the status meeting, I hear Jo yawning as she pads down the long hall.

Smiling, I get up from my chair to join her.

“Good morning.” I place a kiss on her forehead, then wrap my arm around her waist as we walk down the steps.

She flushes. “Morning. How can you be so cheery? It’s early.”

She’s adorable when she grumbles with those sleepy eyes. “Because I have my arm around a beautiful woman.”

“You had coffee, too, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” I pat her consolingly.