‘You’re not an animal.’ And he was hardly all over her now.

Only then he was, standing so close and squeezing her shoulders so she looked up into his face. And what she saw there made her gasp.

‘All I wanted to do was sneak you in here so I could strip you bare,’ he finished furiously.

The fire in his eyes made her so reckless. ‘Then why don’t you?’

She bared herself in that one sentence—bringing that desire right into fore.

He smiled. A small mocking smile. ‘Always the provocation.’ Swiftly he released her shoulders only to bend and pick her up. ‘How much proof do you need?’

‘All of it,’ she demanded roughly as she felt his arms tighten still. ‘I need all of it.’

He took three steps to the plump sofa near the wall. She hooked her legs around his waist just before he sat, so she then straddled him. He released her only to grasp her hair and tug so she lifted her chin and met his kiss. Hard and passionate and endless.

She writhed above him, aching to feel him there. Right there. Centring her, anchoring her. Completing her.

Their hands tangled as they sought to touch more intimately. His hands pressed against her curves, teasing, frustrating. She hated her beautiful dress, she wanted to feel his skin on hers. She wanted them both to be naked.

Neither were.

But their passion was utterly bared.

They moved quickly, angrily. He shoved her dress up to her waist with a jerky hand while unfastening his trousers with the other. She lifted herself off him only long enough for him to free his straining erection. And then she gave in again to the delight of rubbing against him. Of fighting to get closer, closer, closer still.

Their eyes met in a moment of frustration and desperation. She felt him move, his hand fisted around the crotch of her panties and he tugged hard. The silk and lace ripped. A moment later she sank onto him—fast and hard and utterly complete.

His hand squeezed her thigh almost painfully. His groan sent a shiver of raw delight down her spine. Now she was happy. Now she was with him. Now time could stop.

But it didn’t. It couldn’t. Nor could they stop.

He bucked beneath her, powerfully thrusting up, as if he could possibly get deeper within her. Desire for him burned—for more of how good he felt inside her. She pressed down to meet him, wanting more of him. Always more.

They fought to get closer, wild and desperate and so quick yet not quickly enough. And it wasn’t slow enough either. She wanted him so much, all of him, but she didn’t want it to end.

Except it was about to. She felt it coming—that unstoppable wave of pleasure that only he had ever brought forth from her. She arched back, whimpering as he bore it upon her. He thrust faster still until it was a frantic final coupling as frustrating as it was ecstatic.

‘One last time,’ he commanded. ‘I need to see you come one last time.’

She stared at him in blissful agony, then closed her eyes against the despair in his. Bittersweet torture wracked her body as her orgasm hit. It was so good, but it tore her heart. Because this was the last time. Her mouth parted, but his hand pressed hard on her lips. In that final moment of release, he silenced her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he choked as he stiffened beneath her. ‘I am so sorry,’ he groaned in a harsh whisper as he too hit climax.

* * *

Bella dared not open her eyes. She didn’t want to face this end. Through the door and walls, she could hear the ball in full swing but the silence between them in the private room was horrendous. She slipped from his knee, turning her back as she adjusted her dress.

‘I didn’t mean to be rude when you first arrived,’ he said quietly, his voice still tinged with infinite regret. ‘But I am not able to hide how I feel about you.’

‘Is that so terrible?’ She braced herself and faced him to ask, ‘Would it really be so awful for people to know you’d finally moved on?’

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Because for once his expression was so easy to read.

To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. He didn’t want anyone to know how much he wanted her. Which basically meant he didn’t want to want her. He didn’t want to move on. He hadn’t moved on.

Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
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