Beauty and the Billionaire (BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB NOVEL) (11 page)

His thumb continued to stroke her wrist and he said nothing. Just that small motion was driving her wild. With his weight settled between her legs and that small touch teasing her, she definitely understood Lula’s sentiments.

“What comes next?” he asked huskily.

“Let me see,” she whispered, distracted when his hand began to slide down her thigh. “
My pantaloons are damp with arousal just thinking of your touch. I think of your lips grazing over my skin. How you’d rip my clothing away and bury your face into my feminine petals, determined to make me cry out with delight. You would taste me and please me even as your hands reached up to caress my breasts
.” Gretchen fanned her face with the letter. “Whew. Sounds wild.”

He ignored her chatter, carefully sliding his hand away from her wrist and moving it down her torso. He hovered for a moment over her breast and then, ever so slowly, laid his palm against her breast through her shirt. His thumb grazed over her nipple and she sucked in a breath, surprised at how good that felt.

Hunter looked down at her breasts, his own breathing speeding in time with hers. Very gently, he circled his cupped hand on her breast, kneading the flesh and catching the nipple between his fingers and plucking at it.

She whimpered, biting her lip and angry at herself for making noise. The look on his face was so incredibly intense that she hated to interrupt—she didn’t want him to stop, not for anything.

He continued to caress her breast and whispered, “What did the letter say again?”

“Um.” She forced her gaze away from him. His fingers were playing on one of her nipples, coaxing it into an even stiffer peak, and her pulse was pounding at the junction of her thighs. She rocked her hips slightly as she shifted to read the letter again, enjoying the feel of his cock pressed against her pussy. She forced herself to focus on the letter. “
I think of your lips grazing over my skin.
”

“Lips on skin?” He lifted his hand off her breast and began to slowly push up her shirt, seemingly gaining confidence with every moment that passed. He pushed her shirt up around her neck, exposing her bra cups and her belly. He looked down at her in wonder and ran the backs of his fingers over her bare skin, then leaned into kiss the swell of her breast.

She moaned in response. “That feels so good, Hunter. More.”

He licked her flesh, pushing aside the cup of her bra and revealing her aching nipple. “Does he lick her here?”

“I’m sure he does,” Gretchen breathed.

When he leaned close, she arched her back and offered her nipple to him.

He groaned, moving down to take it into his mouth, sucking lightly on her flesh. He ran his tongue over her nipple and whispered, “Tell me what to do—what pleases you.”

“Just keep doing that,” she told him, running her fingers through his hair. She let the letter flutter to the ground, no longer interested in it. Her eyes fluttered closed and she lost herself to the sensation of his mouth on her skin. “God, Hunter, you feel incredible against me.”

“Rip your clothing,” he breathed, and it took her a moment to realize that he was quoting the letter. “Bury my face into your feminine petals.”

His hands were suddenly frantic, tugging at her yoga pants and sliding them down her hips.

She lifted her hips to assist, excited. “Yes. Hunter, yes.”

He tore her pants down her thighs, exposing her flesh. Before she could direct him to do anything, he pushed her thighs apart, stretching the fabric around her knees, and buried his face in her aching flesh.

Gretchen gasped, startled at the sudden move. She’d been thinking she’d have to convince him to touch her, but now that it was all laid out in the open, he’d dove upon her like a starving man.

“Ah, fuck,” Hunter moaned, and she felt his breath on her pussy. His tongue stroked out and licked her lightly, and then he groaned again. “You taste so good.”

Dear sweet heaven, his mouth on her felt incredible. “Yes. Keep touching me.” Her hands moved to his hair, holding him there.

“Tell me how,” he growled, sending shivers through her body.

“My clit,” she breathed. “Put your tongue there.”

He did, and she almost came off the couch. Sensation flared through her body and she dug her fingernails into his scalp, desperate for the pleasure he offered. “More.”

The licks he gave her were rough and untrained, but there was something raw and delicious about his enthusiasm. She’d wanted this—and him—for what seemed like so very long. When he flicked his tongue against her clit and then circled it, she shuddered in response. “Oooh, you’re good at that.”

To her surprise, he stiffened against her. Alarm bells went off in her mind, but before she could encourage him again, he sat up and dragged away from her, breathing hard.

Gretchen opened her eyes, blinking up at him, still throbbing with need. “What’s wrong?”

The look on his face was tortured. His hand moved over the front of his pants, rubbing the length of his cock through the fabric and then jerking away again. “I . . . can’t.”

“You can’t?” She gave him a mock pout. “Please, Hunter. You were so good at that.”

He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s not you. It’s just . . . I . . .” He clenched his fists and remained silent.

He what? Wouldn’t last?
At the moment, she didn’t care. She just wanted his mouth back on her again, enthusiastically licking away. “You won’t touch me? Don’t you like touching me?”

Hunter gave her such a tortured look that her breath caught in her throat. “Love touching you.”

“Did you feel how wet I was?” she asked him. “I need to come so badly. Won’t you touch me?”

He didn’t move.

It was time for plan B. Her fingers slid to the slick heat of her pussy. “If you won’t finish me, I guess I’ll have to do it myself, won’t I?”

She heard his sucked-in breath. His gaze riveted on her, lustful and full of need all at once. Encouraged, she slid one fingertip in lazy circles around her clit, shivering when it sent a bolt of pleasure through her body. He watched her as if fascinated, and his hand rubbed against the hard length straining at the front of his pants.

“Touch yourself for me,” she breathed, dipping a finger into the wet well of her sex and then spreading the moisture around her clit, wetting it. Faster and faster, she glided her finger in circles around it, biting her lip as she spiraled closer to her climax.

She should have felt awkward lying on a couch with her pants tangled below her knees, legs spread wide as she stroked herself to orgasm. But the gaze of the man sitting across from her on the couch had her riveted. She wanted to do this for him. To show him how much pleasure he’d given her.

“Touch yourself, Hunter. I’m so close.” She slid her other hand between her legs, spreading the lips of her pussy to show him just how wet she was.

She watched with pleasure as he unzipped his pants, shoving them down and then quickly followed them with his underwear, releasing his cock. The head was flushed a deep red with need, slick with pre-cum. He stroked it once, his motions jerky.

She paused in her self-pleasure, fascinated by his hand working his shaft.
God, he was beautiful.

“Don’t stop,” Hunter commanded, his voice ragged. “Need . . . to see it.”

“I won’t,” she promised, and began to touch herself again. She watched him stroke and jerk at his cock even as she continued to play with her clit. “I wish it was your mouth on me,” she told him. “Your cock deep inside me.” And she dipped a finger into her sex.

He groaned again, his face contorting. Hot cum jetted out of him, spraying across her belly. The look on his face was so full of exquisite pleasure that she felt her own body pulse with pleasure. Working her fingers faster over her clit, she came a moment later, hard and messy, her eyes tightly shut.

When she opened them a short time later, the room was empty. Hunter had retreated again.

Well, that wasn’t so surprising. Gretchen smiled to herself and touched a finger to the cum he’d left on her skin. She had a feeling that Hunter wouldn’t be avoiding her much anymore.

Things were going rather well, she thought.

Chapter 7

Hunter lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his body stiff with need.

Over and over, he played that scene in the library through in his mind. Gretchen’s innocent question as she asked him to help her with a project. Her breast pressing against his arm, and the way his cock immediately responded. Her soft red hair moving over her shoulders as she tilted her head, watching him.

The amazement he’d felt when she’d began to read the lewd letters out loud, asking him to act them out.

He’d put his hand on her breast and nearly shattered, the pleasure had been so intense. She hadn’t been repulsed by his touch, either. Instead, she’d encouraged it, moving her hips in little motions under him until he’d dared enough to strip her pants down her thighs and taste her.

He’d been lost in that moment. He was totally and completely hers.

Except . . . he’d felt too much too soon. He knew his control wasn’t what it should be, and he’d tensed, suddenly afraid of showing his inexperience. She’d pouted a little, but had ended up surprising him all over again, touching herself and inviting him to touch himself in response.

When he’d set this project in motion, he’d hoped to merely spend time with her. Be around her and let his glimpses of her fuel his longings. He’d never hoped for as much as he’d gotten this afternoon.

She wasn’t repulsed by his scars. She hadn’t flinched away from his scarred hand and missing finger. He touched his cheek. She hadn’t backed away when he reached for her. If anything, she’d seemed . . . eager for his touch. As if it had been what she’d been waiting for all along.

And he’d been unable to give her what she wanted. She’d wanted to be fucked but he’d pulled off her like a green schoolboy and jerked his cock instead. Shame mixed with hunger and he sat up in bed, frustrated.

His dick was already hard again. Just the merest thought of Gretchen and he went wild with need.

He wanted to see her again. That afternoon, he’d left her on the couch, sated. Was she hurt by his abandonment? Angry? As frustrated as he was? It was suddenly important to him that he talk to her and explain himself. The thought of telling her about his inexperience made his throat go dry, but she deserved to know. It wasn’t her who was the problem; it was him. And he didn’t want her to go another moment thinking that there was something wrong with her.

Hunter jumped out of bed and tossed on a robe, loosely tying it as he headed down the dark hallways of Buchanan Manor. She’d think he was crazy. Completely crazy. But he needed to talk to her.

A short time later, he stood in front of her room, hesitating. Her door was shut, no light shining underneath. She was asleep. Should he stay? Go? Gathering his courage, he knocked softly, and when there was no response, knocked louder.

Gretchen arrived at the door a moment later, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and panties. Her long, curvy legs were bare. “Mmm, Hunter? What’s going on?”

She was mouthwatering. Soft, sleepy, and gorgeous. The T-shirt slipped off one shoulder, baring her skin, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Hunter moved forward, grasped her by the shoulders, and kissed her.

Gretchen stiffened against him and that horrible, horrible fear crashed through him—fear that she wasn’t attracted to him, fear that she’d be repulsed by his touch, fear that she’d turn him away. But then she pushed into his arms with enthusiasm, sliding her hands around the back of his neck and kissing him.

It was his first kiss. He realized after she softened in his arms that he had no idea what to do. He’d never kissed anyone before. What if he fucked this up? What if—

Gretchen’s tongue slicked out and licked the tight seam of his mouth.

Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
That was the most amazing thing he’d ever felt. The tip of her tongue might as well have been licking his cock, for it shot a jolt straight there. Hunter groaned, unable to help himself.

She touched the seam of his mouth again with her tongue, and he parted his lips, fascinated by the aggressive lead she’d taken. Immediately, Gretchen’s tongue swept into his mouth, stroking against his in a coaxing move that made him harden with need.

“Gretchen,” he breathed against her lips. His cock ached so badly for her that he couldn’t think straight, was losing track of what he’d arrived here to do. “I—we need to talk.”

Her warm, delicious figure suddenly pulled away. “Talk? That sounds bad.” She tilted her head up at him and gave him a teasing look. “Are you coming here to break up with me?”

“No.” He wanted to crawl between her legs and settle there again. He wanted to touch her all over. Caress her. Kiss her more. Kiss her for hours. “I just . . . there are things that need to be said between us.”

“That sounds very serious. Why don’t you come to bed and tell me? It’s cold out here.” She gave a small shiver, and he noticed her nipples were hard, poking against the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.

The sight made him nearly spend right there. Hunter scrubbed a hand down his face as Gretchen took his hand and led him to the bed. She crawled under the covers and then held them open for him, inviting him in.

The most beautiful, desirable woman he’d ever seen was inviting him to her bed. Damn, he was a lucky son of a bitch.

Hunter hesitated but then slid into bed next to her, feeling stiff and uncomfortable and awkward. He didn’t belong here. Any moment she’d tug his robe open, see that the scars covering one half of his face also went down his side, and be repulsed. She’d pull away and then he’d be left wallowing in his own humiliated fury.

To his surprise, Gretchen reached over and turned off the lamp, setting the room in darkness. “Better?” she asked softly. “You seem uneasy.”

He was. He was tense as hell and kept waiting for her to come to her senses and realize he wasn’t handsome. “The lights off is better for you,” he bit out. “Less to see.”

Her warm chuckle in the dark made his cock jump, and he nearly groaned aloud when her hair brushed against his shoulder. Gretchen’s fingers touched his chest, lightly trailing along his chest hair. “I like the way you look.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said harshly, a stab of anger flaring through him. He kept his fists clenched at his side, though he wanted nothing more than to touch her. “I know what I look like.”

“I do, too,” she said easily, and those teasing fingers trailed down his stomach, lightly swirling at his belly button. “You have dark hair and a strong nose, and scars on one side of your face. You’re taller than me, have big arms, and you turn your cheek aside when possible, like you’re trying to shield the world from your face.”

The breath left him. Stunned, he said nothing for a long moment, waiting. Waiting for her to say something. When she remained quiet, he struggled for something to say, to make her feel the depth of his struggle. “People flinch when they look at me. They turn away when they see my face.”

“People are assholes,” she said, and he felt her shoulders lift as if she were giving a tiny shrug. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent man . . . with a few scars.”

Her finger dipped into his belly button, distracting him from the angry protest about to spill forth. She wasn’t listening to him. She didn’t understand what it was like to be the one who everyone looked away from. To turn people’s stomach with a look of your face.

To be so utterly alone in the world.

Of course, he was having a hard time thinking about being alone while she played with his navel, her fragrant hair brushing against his cheek.

“Won’t you touch me?” she whispered back to him. “You seem so stiff and angry.”

He ached with his need to touch her. Ached. But something held him back. Fear of . . . what? Rejection? Seeing that look of loathing on her face that he’d seen so many times?

“I don’t know how to do this, Gretchen.”

“Hmm?” The teasing lilt was back in her voice. “Don’t know how to touch me?”

“No,” he said harshly, hating the word even as he spit it out. “I’ve never . . . I don’t . . .”

“That’s all right, Hunter.”

“It’s not,” he said roughly, reaching out and daring to touch a lock of her hair that was tickling his chest. It was soft and silky, and his mind immediately filled with images of her hair sliding all over him, her naked body following. His cock reared, and he bit his lip to keep from spilling with need. “It’s . . . not . . . okay.”

“I know you’re a virgin, Hunter. I guessed as much. You were so young when you were hurt, I just assumed . . .”

An ironic twist flexed his mouth. Of course she knew. He was fucking obvious as hell. “I just wanted you to know that it’s not you. It’s me. It’s all me, and if I push you away it’s because I don’t know how to pull you close. I’m not . . . I’m not good with people.”

“I’m not, either,” she said in an easy voice. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to blurt out the first thing I’m thinking.”

“I like that about you,” he told her honestly. “I like everything about you.”

“Mmm.” She sounded pleased.

Encouraged, he closed his eyes and rubbed that strand of hair, imagining the deep red spilling across his palm. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Gretchen. I want to touch you all over. Explore you. Give you pleasure like I’m supposed to, but every time you touch me, I just . . . lose it.”

“Hair trigger?” she said with a chuckle.

A knot of humiliation burned in his throat. He remained silent.

“Hunter. It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she said softly. “Is it me? Am I too forward for you?”

“No. I like you forward. It’s just . . .” He struggled to find the right words to say. For the first time, he wished the room weren’t so dark so he could see her face, see the expression in her beautiful eyes.

“Do you want to explore me? I don’t mind.”

He went silent.
What exactly was she offering?

“Here,” she said in a low voice, moving his hand to her wrist. She then reached behind her and placed her hand on the headboard. “I’ll put my hands here and I won’t move them. You can touch me how you like, and I promise not to touch you back. We’ll go as slow as you need to. I promise.”

His breathing grew rapid. Hunter remained still, and when she didn’t move a muscle, he sat up, wishing he could see her in the darkness. But he didn’t want to turn the light on, not yet. He didn’t want to see her flinch. “What should I— what do you want?”

“Whatever you like. I’m here for the taking.” Her voice was sultry and still contained that delicious hint of fun that made Gretchen so very intoxicating to his senses. “This is your game. You’re in charge.”

It took him a long moment before he reached out on the bed . . . and discovered a smooth knee. He caressed it, marveling at the feel of her skin.

“You can go higher, you know. Nothing bites.”

“I know. I’m just . . . enjoying.” This was his first time to ever touch a woman and truly explore her. He wanted to savor the moment.

He’d never thought he’d have this. Even in his younger years, when he’d ached with need for a simple touch, he’d never considered hiring an escort for sex. To pay a woman to suck his cock and then watch her flinch when she saw him? No, paying for sex seemed like the worst of both worlds.

And yet Gretchen had offered herself to him. His hand trailed higher, caressing her thigh.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of a tremble in it.

“Are you . . . nervous?”

“I’m mostly excited,” she said, and he could hear the breathless quality of her voice. “Full of anticipation. My belly—and other parts of me—are tingling with it. I’ve been trying to get you to touch me for a week now.”

He knew. He just hadn’t had the courage until she’d more or less seduced him in the library. His exploring hand shifted upward and hit the edge of her shirt. He fisted it, drawing the material away from her body, imagining the material pulled taut against her breasts, outlining her nipples.

Nipples that he had
carte blanche
to touch. Another surge of need rose through him, and he felt pre-cum sliding down the head of his cock, soaking the front of his boxers. Any minute now, he’d lose control. He had to pace himself.

Breathing deeply to calm his body, Hunter forced himself to relax.

“If you want to take that shirt off me, you’re going to have to do it on your own. I can’t help you, remember?” He heard the sound of her fingers drumming on the wood of the headboard as a reminder.

“I thought I was in charge here?” he bit back.

“You are. I’m just bossy even if I’m supposed to be all submissive,” she said, her voice saucy. “You can always spank me for being bad, if you want.”

He groaned at the visual. “Gretchen, please. I need to keep control.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “I’ll just lay here and be quiet. All silent and needy and half-naked, but very willing to be fully naked if given the opportunity.”

His hand clenched tighter on the shirt, feeling the old fabric give a little. “What if I ripped this off you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “That would be extremely naughty of you. I’m game.”

Hunter tugged harder at the fabric and heard a satisfying rip, as well as Gretchen’s intake of breath, followed by a mischievous giggle. Then he was holding the loose fabric in his hand and he tossed it aside.

“You going to rip my panties next?”

He flexed his hand, feeling her thigh next to his on the large bed. He didn’t remember what her panties looked like. They’d been swallowed up by the oversized shirt. His mind was suddenly full of mental images of Gretchen in sexy panties, an image he liked very much. “Are they sexy?”

“Mmm, not really. They’re boy shorts with a bit of lace. I wasn’t really coming here expecting to get laid, so I didn’t pack my best.”

“I . . . don’t know what boy shorts are.”

“Then yes, they’re incredibly, ultra sexy.”

“Then I shouldn’t rip them.” He was starting to get the hang of her teasing. In the darkness, it was a bit easier. Maybe she’d known that, and that was why she’d insisted on the lights being off.