New York Billionaires Series

“And yet.”

He kisses me again, more languorous this time, and with each passing second the heat in my stomach grows sharper. I want him.

“If it wasn’t our first time,” he says, “I’d take you here.”

The words are like a bolt through me. Imagining him, imagining us… “Where anyone could walk by?”

He rests his head against my shoulder. “Fuck. But yes, I would.”

I reach down and palm him through his pants. The hard length throbs against my hand and he groans into my neck, nothing like the Victor in perfect control of himself and his world.

It makes my head spin. “A shame it’s our first time, then.”

His hands dig into my waist, fingers an inch from the undersides of my breasts. “Yes.”

I stroke him one last time through the fabric. Then I push him away and rearrange my dress. My lips feel swollen and when I look down, my nipples are visible through the fabric. “We should leave.”

Victor is staring at me, eyes dark. “Yes. We should.”

“Don’t call Steven. I want us to walk home.”

“Is this your way of getting back at me?” he asks. “For all the times I had you run my errands and handle my calls?”

“Maybe. Would you object if it was?”

In the darkness, and in his tux, Victor looks every bit as dangerous as he does at the negotiating table. The fire in his eyes speaks of battles to conquer.

“No,” he says. “Bring it on.”

Victor doesn’t nod to the concierge in the lobby of our apartment building when we get home. He just keeps a hand on my lower back, steering me into the elevator.

He kisses me as soon as the doors close. I grip him tight, burning from the teasing, the taunting. The deliciousness of this man, usually leashed so tight, unwinding for me.

We make it into the hallway and the front door shuts hard behind us. We look at each other. His breath comes fast, wide chest rising and falling.

And I’m lost.

He reaches for me and I step into his arms, back into his kisses. I’d never known it could be like this.

“Victor,” I murmur.

He gives a groan of acknowledgement but doesn’t stop. His hands skim down my dress, finding the smooth curve of my thighs. “Hold on to me.”

I grip his shoulders just in time. Victor lifts me up onto the hallway table. Something brushes past my hip and then glass hits the stone floor with a shatter.

“Oh, no. Our vase.”

Victor sears my neck with kisses, stepping between my legs. They split of their own accord, my knees rising to grip him tight against me. “Whoops.”

I grin. “You’re telling me that wasn’t on purpose?”

“Of course not,” he murmurs. “I keep removing it. You’re the one who puts it back.”

“It annoys you.”

His fingers dig into my thigh. “You like annoying me?”

His lips return to mine, hot and strong. One of his hands smooths up my leg. “This dress is annoying me right now. I have to feel you.”

“God, yes please.”

“Where?” He cups one of my breasts through the fabric of my dress, and with unerring precision, brushes over a nipple. “Here?”

“Or… here?” He finds the hem of my dress and lifts it up, up, up. I gasp at the touch of his hand on my inner thigh, my hands tightening on his shoulders.

“Victor…”

“Keep saying my name like that, Myers.”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

His lips catch mine and his hand cups me through my panties, warm against my heat. “Cecilia,” he murmurs. “How about here?”

The confession is a whisper against his lips. “Yes.”

He slides them to the side and I can’t breathe, can’t think, around the feeling of his fingers brushing my hot skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re wet.”

Yes, I think. All for you, only for you, but the words die on my tongue as he strokes. His fingers tease my folds and with a skill that shouldn’t surprise me, he finds my clit.

My breath turns shaky against his lips. “That’s right,” he says. “Fast or slow?”

I can’t believe we’re doing this. But I tell him, my eyes closed and breathing fast. “Hard.”

Another of his smiles against my lips and then the pressure increases on my clit. Heat radiates from that simple touch, and with each of his circles, it grows stronger.

I tighten my grip on his shoulders. Life support, that’s what they are, as he takes me higher and higher.

His free hand joins the one he’s using on me, and then I feel it, the sweet burn of his finger sliding into me.

“Oh my God.”

“Do you know?” he asks. “How badly I want to be inside you?”

My fingers tighten around his lapels. I don’t know, but if it’s as badly as I want him inside me, he’s burning too. The relentless movements of his hand feel like punishment. His fingers speed up and it’s all I can do to hold on against the racing of my pulse.

I’m going to come if he continues.

“Victor, I…”