The CEO's Fantasy (The Billionaire Bachelors Series) (8 page)

“Dean,” she breathed as she pulled away from his lips. “Breakfast.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “I’m starving.”

He placed his hands under her arms and lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the table. With one leg he dragged out a chair, sitting in it and pulling Sara down to straddle his lap the way she had last night.

She’d at least been partially clothed then.

A deep sexy rumble came out of Dean’s chest as the robe splayed open above and below the knotted belt and he looked down at what was revealed. “Damn, you are gorgeous. Look at you. I can’t decide what I want first. These breasts I’ve been dreaming of or the honey between your thighs. I need a taste before breakfast, Sara,” he growled. “Only a snack. Say yes and I’ll tell you about the entertainment at Franco’s.”

She could get into so much trouble with this man. “Yes.”

He closed his eyes in relief and lowered his head to her breast, sucking and licking and nibbling her flesh while his palm flattened against her stomach and slid down. His fingers pushed past her damp curls and inside her sex, making her arch her back and groan.

“They do
this
at Franco’s?” She felt his mouth all the way to her toes. And his touch was… “Lucky Javier.”

He lifted fingers glistening with her arousal and stroked her other breast, dampening her nipple until it hardened. Then he turned his head and covered it with his mouth, sucking roughly, greedily, his hoarse needy growls vibrating against her skin.

Sara whimpered. She was just as greedy. She wanted to finish what they’d started last night, what they’d started here as soon as they got their hands on each other. She was lowering her hands to his jeans when he lifted his head.

“Breakfast,” he ordered raggedly, lifting her off his lap and setting her in the chair beside him. “You said breakfast. And no, they don’t do that at Franco’s, but I don’t think I can tell you more just yet. I only have so much willpower, Sara.”

He served them from the silver trays, putting food on her plate and filling her glass with mimosas Javier had left in a glass pitcher on the table, and Sara couldn’t stop staring at him. Dean had more willpower than she did. The fact that he’d stopped was proof of that. She’d felt his erection, could see that his eyes were glittering with need and his movements were tense. Restrained. Why?

He was used to restraining himself, she answered her own question. Buttoned up in a suit with his nose to the company grindstone. She might have decided to take a vacation but Dean had the look of a man who needed one. Despite his wealth and status, despite the gossip about his conquests, she’d gotten a firsthand glimpse of all the bottled-up passion he was holding onto so tightly. She shivered, already knowing after last night and this morning what it would be like if he popped the cork.

Dean Warren needed the prescription she’d already given to herself—uncomplicated X-rated fun. And God knew she needed more of what he did to her. As much of it and as often as she could get it. She wanted to be the one to help him find his release. The thought was beyond tempting. Beyond arousing. And there were so many reasons why it was a bad idea.

Late last night she’d thought it was a brilliant plan, but she’d decided it wouldn’t work. The main sticking points were that they hardly knew each other and he might not agree. The first she could get around. The second she didn’t want to think about, which was why she had definitely decided not to bring it up.

The tic along his temple and his controlled movements made her change her mind again. “I’ve been thinking about skipping the tropical island for my month off.”

He paused as he was ladling some delicious-looking sauce over her eggs. “Oh?”

“Mmm-hmm. Of course, the other vacation option involves you, so I thought we should discuss it to see if you were interested before I made my final decision.” She glanced down at her plate. “Strawberries and cinnamon? How did you know?”

His hazel eyes remained focused on her intently. “Discuss what?”

“My new vacation plan,” she reminded him patiently, her heart pounding in her ears. “After my first Hummer experience last night, I realized there are several things I’ve never done before that I’d love to try a heck of a lot more than windsurfing.”

“What kind of things, Sara?” His voice had that sexy rasp she was starting to love.

“Sexual things.” She popped a strawberry into her mouth and groaned, feeling hopeful when he didn’t look away. “Fantasies. As in fulfilling them, preferably with an open-minded and energetic partner. You brought up the article that made me think of it, and you also mentioned you were good at deep tissue massage, so of course you were the first person that came to mind. Are you?” She swallowed again, reaching for her mimosa. “Interested?”

“Am I a man? Am I breathing?” he responded so quickly she smiled.

“Let’s find out.” She set her glass down again and shrugged off her robe so it pooled at her waist before reaching for another strawberry. Dean swore. Loudly. “Yes. You appear to be breathing in a very manly fashion.”

It was never a bad idea to promote your positive assets, her inner devil insisted. Put your best foot—or breast, in this case—forward before negotiations begin. “Let me tell you about my rules before you decide.”

Dean groaned, his attention firmly focused on her assets. “Rules? You want to talk to me about rules with that kind of distraction?”

“You’ll like them, I think.”

“I love them.”

“The rules, Mr. Warren,” she chided playfully. “For one month, instead of me vacationing on a sandy beach and downing umbrella drinks until I fall for the first Casanova in a Speedo with a good line, I stay here at home. We share our sexual fantasies with each other the way we did last night, no holding back, and we take turns making them a reality.”

He didn’t respond right away so she kept talking. “Before you start to worry about the fine print, I don’t want anything but your body.” She winced. “That came out wrong. I
mean
there’s no need for getting-to-know-you dates or wooing. I have no desire to go to any red carpet premieres, charity balls or fancy cocktail parties—unless you have a fantasy related to that. And, though it’s delicious, I don’t expect breakfast ala Franco every day, trips to Venice or diamonds. I’m more a pizza and beer at the park kind of girl. And when the month is over, I won’t even expect a thank-you card, so you don’t have to be concerned about unwelcome attachments.”

Sara had to admit to a certain amount of trepidation. He wanted her—after last night and this morning there was no way she could doubt it. It was a wonderful adrenaline rush, a dream come miraculously true, but did he want her enough to give her a whole month? What if her bold proposal sent him running in the opposite direction instead of seeing it the way she’d thought he might last night—like a welcome relief from constant expectations?

She had to try. She could always go to the Caribbean. How many opportunities did a girl have to live out every naughty daydream she’d ever had with the starring attraction himself?

“Just to be clear…” Dean lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a drink before continuing, “You don’t want me to take you out or buy you things. You don’t want romance or commitment. You want to spend your fun-fund vacation fulfilling
my
every debauched, depraved fantasy, in between you using my body like your own personal ride at Warrenland. Have I got that right, Ms. Charles?”

She tried to hide her smile. “That about sums it up, Mr. Warren.”

“You’re doing it again you know.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Saying exactly what I want to hear,” he said softly, his gaze rising to her lips. “What are your limits?”

Her smiled disappeared. “What do you mean?”

Dean leaned back in his chair, breakfast forgotten. “I’ll give you a few examples. If my fantasy involved tying your wrists to my bed so I could enjoy your body without distraction, or taking you to one of those premiers you say we don’t have to go to and ordering you not to make a sound while I touched you in the dark. If I craved sex in public, having you ride me in the dark corner of a crowded nightclub, or taking you home and spanking your ass and pussy until you came, etcetera. Do you want to set limits? Are there things you have no desire to do?”

Sara bit her lip, feeling the air conditioning brush against her sensitive nipples. All of those sounded…

Exciting. Arousing. Forbidden.

She aimed for nonchalant, even though she was squirming in her seat a little impatiently. “We’ll add a rule that if either one of us has a fantasy we don’t want to fulfill, we can say no and move on to the next one.”

Dean grinned. “Don’t want to or can’t feasibly do without endangering ourselves. For example, I would say my first fantasy is that you go topless for every meal, but we’d both die of hunger and you’d never get any dessert.”

“Do you want me to cover up?”

“Now?” He lowered his gaze to her nipples again. “Don’t you dare. You’ve definitely aroused my interest. Your offer is generous and sounds too good to be true. Something I believe in as much as I do coincidence.”

She shook her head, not trying to hide her disappointment as she reached for her robe. “That’s too bad. In my experience, occasionally those things can be better than you ever imagined.” 

Dean’s hand shot out and stopped her from dragging the fabric over her shoulder. “I’m willing to test your theory. I accept. However, I do have one condition before I agree to your erotic vacation plan and we start sharing our secret desires.”

She held her breath. “What is it?”

“I need something from you.” He stood up and started to unbuckle his belt, watching her reaction carefully. “I haven’t been able to sleep or think about anything but getting inside you since our ride home last night. I can still taste you in my mouth. Still feel you. I don’t think I can start this project of ours until we deal with the problem at hand.”

That was his condition? All he wanted before he agreed to spend the month with her was…her?

She stood and her robe dropped unnoticed at her feet. “Deal.”

He moaned and reached for her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her. Sara unbuttoned his pants frantically, desperate to touch him. To feel his thick, hard—

“Fuck,” he rasped against her lips. “I wanted to take my time. I imagined it for hours—my tongue fucking that sweet pussy again and again until you were sobbing for more. I was coming up with ways to keep you naked for the rest of the weekend, and then you offer me this.” He lifted her up again, spinning them both around to press her back against the door. “Wrap your legs around me, Sara.”

She did, surprised and thrilled at how easily he controlled her. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made her feel this sexy. This powerful. He swore, shifting her in his grip as he searched his pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping the wrapper open with his teeth. 

“Hang on,” he muttered as he rolled it on before gripping her thighs in his wide hands. “Hang on tight.”

Sara opened her mouth on a soundless moan when he started to fill her. Oh God, he felt good. Her body was stretching around his thick cock, welcoming him with a new flood of arousal as he thrust inside.

“Jesus, Sara…baby you’re….”

He pulled back slowly, making both of them groan before he pressed his hips forward again. A little harder this time, and she shivered, grabbing his t-shirt and tugging on it until he pulled it over his head with one hand.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and he reacted with a rough stroke, his cock filling her completely.  “Yes,” she gasped. “Like that.”

Dean’s laugh was rough and dirty. “Like that, Sara?” He pumped against her, his flesh smacking against hers and shaking the door. So deep. God, he was so deep. “It’s the first time I’ve gotten inside you and I was trying to be gentle. Trying to take it slow. But this is what you want, isn’t it?”

She dug her nails in deeper and looked into his eyes when he hissed. “I don’t need gentle.”

He swore and slung his hips against her so forcefully the door shook again and made a banging sound. Again.
Yes.
Again. Faster and harder. Each thrust as deep as he could go, making Sarah cry out with the intensity.

“That’s good,” he groaned. “Because this is what I’ve wanted since I had you bent over that damn seat. What this body was made for.” He snarled when she clenched her muscles around his shaft. “I knew you would feel good, but you’re killing me, baby. Talk to me, Sara. Tell me you love me fucking you like this. Let me hear you say it.”

At first she couldn’t catch her breath enough to respond. Could only listen to him and gasp as her body opened up to his, giving him everything. No one had ever brought her to the edge so quickly. Given her the kind of wild passion she’d dreamt about. Said the sexy, delicious things he said. His hips were bruising in their force and she loved it. Craved it. Wanted to beg him for more.

He wanted her to say it.

“I love it,” she cried, letting go of the last of her inhibitions. “Fucking me
so
hard.
Love… Oh,
oh yes
like that. Fuck me harder. Make me come.
Dean!
”

“Hell yes.” Dean lowered his head and bit the curve of her breast, his thrusts so fast now her body began to vibrate. She could see stars.

And then she was flying. “Dean!”

He shouted against her skin, his fingers digging into her thighs as he came with her. The door was banging so loudly now she breathlessly wondered if it would come off its hinges. If someone would call the police to report the disturbance.

She didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but what she was feeling right now. Every inch of her skin was tingling with electricity, her blood was humming, heart racing and she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

She wanted to do it again.

Dean knew he was in trouble as he reclined at the bottom of her bed, watching her bend her spread legs and slip her hand down her stomach toward the patch of damp, auburn curls he wanted to touch again. How was he supposed to run his company, think about the upcoming vote, or fulfill his end of this fantasy bargain when he couldn’t stay away from her body long enough to begin?