The Billionaire's Embrace (The Silver Cross Club) (12 page)

“I’m going to make you come like this,” he said. “You have to hold on. Can you do that for me? Don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” I said, already breathless, so hot and bothered that it was hard to make sense of his words.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me,” he said.

I opened my mouth to respond, and then he twisted his fingers and erased every thought from my mind. He sunk his fingers deeper into me, thrusting in until his palm rested firmly against my pubic bone. His hand ground against my clit, a steady pressure that made my head spin. He seemed to know everything about my body, every way to touch me that would make my nerves light up.

He curled his fingers inside me, pushing firmly and rhythmically against something that made me feel like there was a rubber band being stretched taut behind my navel. I clung to his shoulders, breathing in shallow pants, feeling myself start to lose control. It was a long, slow slide down into the deep place where I stopped caring about anything but the way Carter made my body feel.

I couldn’t move much or get any leverage, not and stay balanced in my shoes, and so Carter had me completely at his mercy. He took full advantage, teasing me relentlessly, rubbing his thumb over my clit in strokes that were too slow to be anything but deliberate torment. He kissed me and murmured things about how I was sexy and beautiful and perfect, but he wouldn’t move faster and give me the relief I needed.

It was maddening. I was tight as a bow, pinned between Carter’s mouth and his hand. I needed more friction, more movement, but I couldn’t lift up onto my toes to ride his fingers because I was already balanced on the balls of my feet. I was trapped, exactly where he wanted me.

And then, after an endless, molten span of time, he pulled away.

I clung to him, knees buckling, and he held me up with his arm firm around my waist and said, “You’re a mess, sweetheart. You’ve had enough already?”

“No,” I said, because I wanted more, but then I said, “Yes,” because I’d had plenty of his teasing.

He chuckled and said, “Well, that’s clear.”

I wanted to explain what I meant, but I couldn’t think of the right words. I let my body speak for me, and pressed my hips against his in a silent plea.

“So impatient,” he said. “You know I always take care of you.” He slid his hand back between my legs and pressed his fingers into me again, but then drew them out and slid further back until his fingertips teased at the furled opening of my ass.

I went rigid, every muscle clenching in tandem. Was he really going to—

“Breathe,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it. But I think you might like it.”

I exhaled, and nodded slowly. This must be why he had asked me how much I trusted him. Well, I
did
trust him: enough to try it, enough to believe that he would stop if I asked him to.

He spent several minutes doing nothing but rubbing gently at my opening, getting me used to the idea. As he kept going, I gradually relaxed, and started focusing on how my body felt. It was—strange, but not bad. Not bad at all, really. I was sensitive and swollen, and every movement of Carter’s fingers sent waves of pleasure rolling through my lower body, like a flooding river rising and threatening to overflow its banks.

“There you are,” he said, and slowly, slowly, pushed one finger inside me, slick with my own arousal.

I expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. It just felt really strange, an odd stretch where I never expected to feel one. I frowned and moved my hips, trying to decide how I felt about the intrusion.

“Hurts?” Carter asked.

“No,” I said, still frowning. “Just—weird.”

“I can stop,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

“No, not yet,” I said, blushing furiously. “I’m—I want to try it.” It was embarrassing to admit: that I wasn’t totally repulsed by what he was doing, that I wanted to keep going and see what happened.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and his approval eased my embarrassment. If Carter liked it, if he wanted to do this, why should I feel ashamed?

He pressed his finger fully into me and paused for a few moments, letting me adjust. I took a shaky breath and nodded at him, and he withdrew his finger slightly and pushed back in. God, it felt so strange, but there was something about it, the stretch and the glide, that made me want more.

“Another one?” Carter asked, and I bit my lip and nodded.

With two fingers, I was split open, helpless. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, that it was too much, but what came out instead was a moan.

“That’s right,” Carter said. “You like that, don’t you, sweetheart? I had a feeling you would.” He pulled his fingers all the way out, and then slid them in again, twisting as he went, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders and focused on keeping my breathing steady.

It was almost too much. The fullness, the not-quite-painful stretch, the feeling of absolute vulnerability—it was
almost
enough that I wanted to pull away and go back to having normal sex, something familiar that I understood and didn’t make me feel so overwhelmed. But I didn’t. There was something about it that made me want to keep going.

Carter said, “Take a deep breath,” and as soon as I did, he added a third finger. I heard myself make a high-pitched sound, and he said, “It’s okay, breathe through it,” and I tried to, filling my lungs with air and letting it out again, and after I did that a few times, I felt my body opening around him, and then it was okay.

Nothing we had done so far had prepared me for this, for feeling like my skin was too tight, like I was about to burst out of myself and disintegrate into a million pieces.

I was so wet between my legs that I could feel my arousal sliding down my thighs.

“Shh, you’re doing fine,” Carter said. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me to hush, but I closed my eyes and breathed, and waited for what would happen next.

What happened was that he slid his fingers out of me, leaving me achingly empty. I made a protesting noise, and he laughed softly. His other arm stayed where it was, snug around my waist, holding me up. “You’d better take off those shoes now, sweetheart,” he said.

Legs trembling, I stepped out of my shoes and planted my feet on the carpet. Carter was suddenly several inches taller than me, and I leaned my forehead against the center of his chest, wanting that comfort. He ran his hand up and down my back, soothing me, bringing me back down to earth.

“Are you okay? Should we stop?” he asked.

I shook my head mutely, rolling my forehead against his bare chest.

“Then you’re going to do exactly what I say,” he said, and I shivered at the commanding note in his voice.

And then he bent and lifted me into his arms and carried me over to the bed. He tossed me down onto the mattress, not gently, and climbed onto the bed beside me. He pulled me on top of him, positioning me so that I straddled his hips, his cock nestled hot and hard between the cheeks of my ass. “Do you want to be on top, little girl? You can pretend you’re in charge, for once. See if you can make yourself scream.”

“I’m not—what should I do?” I asked. We both knew that I wasn’t really in charge, and I needed him to tell me what he expected, what I was supposed to do next.

“You need help, hmm? That’s fine.” He opened the drawer in the bedside table and removed a condom and a small bottle. As I watched, he rolled on the condom, and then uncapped the bottle and coated his fingers with the clear liquid inside. It was lube, I realized, and as he reached down and slicked his cock, I realized where he expected it to go.

Well, of
course
, I told myself—obviously that was what was happening, but somehow it hadn’t sunk in until that moment. I chewed on my lower lip, both terrified and aroused. It wasn’t going to fit, was it? Wouldn’t it hurt? But even so, I wanted to try. The sensations his fingers created had been so intense that I needed to know how his cock would feel.

“Lift up,” he said, and I did, pushing up onto my knees. He positioned the head of his cock at my entrance, rubbing lightly, teasing, and I was on fire, I was burning.

I sank down on his cock, breathing through my mouth as my body adjusted to the intrusion. He was
big
and hard and I opened slowly around him, my body surrendering, millimeter by millimeter, as I took him into me. It burned, and I breathed through it, waiting for the pain to subside, and then it did, all at once, and I pushed down until my ass rested against his upper thighs, fully seated on his hard cock.

He filled me so completely that there was no room left for oxygen or thought, not in the entire universe, or for the rest of time.

“That’s good,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs in long strokes. “You’re doing so well, Regan.”

I tossed my hair back over my shoulder. I liked being on top, feeling like I had him at my mercy. In this position, I wasn’t sure how to move. I rolled my hips experimentally, and moaned aloud at the way his erection dragged against my sensitive flesh. It was pleasure and pain mixed together, and so good that I never wanted it to end.

Carter curled his hands around my hips but didn’t try to control my movements, just held me lightly and looked up at me. His eyes were so blue and full of dark light that gazing into them was like falling down a well. His eyes were trying to tell me something, trying to share with me some powerful emotion that I couldn’t name, or was afraid to. I had to look away, overwhelmed.

I rode him, slowly at first, learning how I should move and at what speed, learning how he felt inside me, and how my body opened to accept him. More than ever, I felt like we were made to fit each other, two puzzle pieces clicking together, and the space between us where we joined turned everything into light.

It frightened me. There were plenty of men in the world other than Carter, and I told myself that many of them could probably make me feel this way. But what if that wasn’t true? What if it was something particular about Carter, the way he looked at me, the way he touched me like my body belonged to him? It was too intense, like we had tapped into something bigger than ourselves.

“You feel incredible,” he said to me, and I looked down at him, my hands planted on his shoulders to give me leverage. He smiled at the look on my face, whatever it was, and said, “You’ve never done this before.”

It wasn’t a question. “No,” I admitted, and told myself I didn’t need to be embarrassed. There were probably plenty of women who hadn’t tried this. It wasn’t like he was accusing me of being totally inexperienced and helpless.

“Good,” he said, hands tightening on my hips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to have seen you like this.”

I swallowed. “Like what?”

“You look like someone’s told you a wonderful secret,” he said, and when I pushed down against him, he pushed up, driving himself deep into my body, and I cried out with the pleasure of it.

I had to speed up after that. I couldn’t wait any longer. Everything felt too good, and I’d been waiting so long already. I worked my hips against Carter, growing more confident, and he slid one hand between my legs and began stroking my clit, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I arched my back, taking him even deeper, feeling a heat and pressure in my lower belly that made my eyes roll back in my head.

Carter pinched my clit between two fingers and
squeezed
, and I came hard and without warning. Usually I could tell when I was close, but this time it took me unawares, and I bent over Carter, gripping his shoulders and feeling my whole body shake.

He stroked me through it, relentless, until I was too sensitive to bear his touch anymore and tried to squirm away.

Then he flipped me over, a wild look in his eyes, and drove into me, fast and hard, until he shuddered and gasped in my arms.

After, he spent a long time kissing me and stroking my hair, telling me how good I had been, how well I did, how he was proud of me. I felt so warm and safe and
wanted
, cared for, lying there as he softened inside me and told me how perfect I was.

To my horror, I started crying.

Carter instantly pushed up onto his elbows, gazing down at me with concern. “What’s wrong? Oh, Regan—”

“Nothing, nothing,” I said, sniffling, trying to get myself under control. “I’m just—I feel so...” I trailed off. I didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling.

“Hey,” he said. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “It’s okay. I know.”

I
woke up early the next morning, so early that the sun hadn’t yet risen over the buildings to the east. Carter was asleep beside me, lying on his back with his mouth open and snoring slightly. It was sweet. I smiled and slid out of bed very carefully so that I didn’t wake him up.

I padded into the living room, lit with pale gray light. I had to work that evening, and I really needed a few more hours of sleep, but I didn’t think I would be able to fall back to sleep. I had that wide-awake bushy-tailed feeling. We
had
gone to bed pretty early last night—we’d tried to watch some television, but I kept drifting off.

I went into the kitchen and poked at Carter’s coffee pot. It was huge and shiny and covered in buttons, and I wasn’t sure what any of them did. Maybe I would have to wake him up after all. Coffee was definitely an emergency.

I heard a noise, and turned to see Carter leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. “Someone’s up early,” he said, smiling at me. He was wearing low-slung sleep pants and nothing else, and he looked so rumpled and sleepy that I wanted to crawl back into bed with him and never leave.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said sheepishly. “Did I wake you?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just woke up. I thought maybe you had left.”

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” I said. “You thought I snuck out?”

“Last night was... kind of intense,” he said. “I didn’t know how you would feel this morning.”

“I don’t regret anything,” I said, and it was true. I was a little sore, but it was like a memento, a reminder of what had passed between us.

He came forward then, and slid one hand into my hair and kissed me. “I’m glad.”