The Billionaire's Embrace Page 63

“I’m full of surprises,” I said. I bent to kiss her, intending to provide comfort and nothing more, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me down, deepening the kiss. It quickly grew heated. Regan pressed against me, her soft curves enticing even through the layers of our clothing, and I slid my hands down her body, skimming over her waist and hips. “What about dinner?” I asked, teasing her.

“Dinner can wait,” she said. “I think we need to, you know. Make it official.”

“Seal the deal, as it were,” I said, and kissed her again, sliding my tongue into her mouth, and feeling my cock begin to swell. If she wanted to skip dinner in favor of sex, that was more than fine with me.

She was wearing a simple wool dress, her usual office attire. I reached behind her and tugged down the zipper, drawing it from the nape of her neck down to the curve of her ass, and slid the dress off her body. Then she stood before me in nothing but her bra and panties. Thank God that tights season was finally over. I trailed my fingers over the exposed curves of her breasts and watched her skin prickle. Her lips parted, her eyelids sank closed, and her nipples hardened with arousal, visible through the thin lace of her bra.

“Hmm, you know, I think I’m hungry after all,” I said. “We should eat first.”

She opened her eyes and gave me a look of absolute disbelief. I almost laughed, but managed to hold it in. “You want to eat now?” she asked, like she couldn’t quite believe what I had said.

“I don’t want your hard work to go to waste,” I said. It was more that I wanted to make her wait, to watch her get all flushed and impatient, but I wasn’t about to admit that to her.

“Well, I guess if you’re hungry,” she said reluctantly.

We sat at the table and ate, me in my suit and tie and her in her underpants. Regan had made a casserole that was quite good, and as soon as I took the first bite, I realized that I truly was as hungry as I’d claimed. I cleaned my plate and went for seconds, and Regan looked pleased despite herself. And it wasn’t every day that I got to eat dinner while viewing a beautiful woman’s cleavage, so it was all in all a memorable occasion.

After dinner, I carried Regan into the bedroom and carefully lay her down on the mattress. I turned on the bedside lamp, and her skin glowed golden in the warm light, like she was lit from within. She gazed up at me with so much trust in her eyes that I knew my only purpose in life, from that day until the second I drew my last breath, was to do everything I could to deserve and maintain that trust.

She was going to be my wife. I was the luckiest man on earth.

All I wanted, suddenly, was to make love to her. No games, no teasing, no waiting for her to break: just the two of us in bed, our bodies moving together, warm and close beneath the sheets.

“I love you,” I said, staring down at her.

“I love you, too,” she said.

I stripped out of my clothes in record time, letting my suit crumple onto the floor, heedless of any wrinkles. I lay down on the mattress beside Regan, turned on one side to face her, and tried to figure out where I wanted to touch her first.

I started with her shoulders. I bent to kiss the left one, then the right, and then slid her bra straps down. Her bra clasped in the front, which made removing it very easy: I simply spread the cups to the side, and her perfect breasts were exposed to me.

Like most men my age, I had seen my fair share of breasts, both in person and in pornography; and so I felt fairly confident in my assessment that Regan’s were among the nicest, full and round, with nipples that furled up so deliciously beneath my tongue and fingers. I bent and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, using my teeth every so lightly. She arched up against me and gasped, and I felt my cock throb in response, full and heavy between my thighs.

Christ, I wanted her.

I slid one hand inside her panties. She was wet for me already, practically dripping with arousal. I wondered if she had been wet all through dinner, sitting there at the table soaking through her underpants, ready for me. I could have had here right there on the floor, fast and hard.

But I wanted her here, slow and sweet. This was better.

“Tell me what you want,” I murmured, leaning down to kiss her, my fingers moving gently between her legs.

“You,” she said. “I don’t know. Don’t make me talk, I just want to—to—”

“Shh, I know,” I said. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t I always?”

“Carter,” she said: one word, just my name, but with so much meaning packed into it.

I couldn’t wait. I needed to have her right then, that very moment, or I was going to explode. I wanted to draw it out, make it special for her, but the demands of my body were too urgent.

I tugged her panties down her thighs. She raised her knees to make it easier for me, and I drew them down over her feet and tossed them onto the floor. Her newly exposed flesh glistened, and I bent to kiss her there, chastely, reveling in her scent. She jerked slightly, startled or aroused, and I curled one hand over her hip to hold her in place.

She was ready for me, and I couldn’t wait. I fished a condom from the nightstand and rolled it onto my cock, hissing through my teeth at the touch of my own hands. Regan, watching me, spread her thighs and opened her arms, beckoning to me, and I didn’t need to be told twice.

I moved on top of her, bracing my weight on my elbows, her warm skin pressed against mine from chest to ankles. She was so soft and yielding, and then I positioned my cock at her entrance and pushed into her, and she was yielding there, too, and also hot and tight, and I had to pause for a moment, eyes closed, breathing deeply, in order to keep from embarrassing myself.

“Carter,” she said again. I opened my eyes and leaned down to kiss her, and stayed like that for a few minutes, motionless inside of her, trading slow kisses and trying to convince myself that this was real, that this incredible woman really had agreed to marry me.

“I can’t wait to put a ring on your finger,” I said, “so that everyone knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she said, and no words had ever sounded so sweet.

I began moving at last, very slowly, rocking my hips against her. She curled her legs around me and drew her hands up and down my back, both soothing and titillating. I kissed her face and neck, all the parts of her that I could reach, and we rocked together like the sea.

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