He lowered his head and I immediately clenched my eyes shut and waited for the moment his mouth would touch mine. At that moment, it felt as though only a taste of him would feed the vicious need in my belly. But his lips did not connect with mine, instead he lay them on the exposed swell of my breast.

It was such a simple act: his lips on my skin, but it shot such a bolt of pleasure through me that it tore a gasp from my lips. My bones weakened into jelly, and unable to trust my knees to keep me upright, I gripped his bulging biceps.

Then, like an animal he licked me. And I gasped at the bolt that ran through my body. It felt like a bolt of electricity. My entire groin went numb.

As I stood there in shock, he straightened and began to caress my breast through the fabric of my dress. His thumb stroked the traitorous hardened peak in the middle. There was simply no hiding my desire for him when it was that blatantly obvious. When he took away his hand a cry of complaint almost escaped me.

Those piercing grays were full of knowing as he slipped his hand into the slit of my dress. I stared into his eyes entranced. With one swift motion, he ripped the material all the way up to my hips.

My head shot down to see the destruction of the beautiful dress. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever worn in my life and he had destroyed it without a second thought. A wave of sadness engulfed me. The metaphor between me and that dress couldn’t be clearer. I was that dress. Something he had paid so much for and yet was of so little value to him, so disposal.

“Open your legs,” he commanded.

Blindly I obeyed.

One of his hard hands slipped around my hips to stroke the taut flesh of my butt, while the other boldly grabbed my sex in an imitation of what I had done to myself last night.

The stimulating surge was too much and I visibly jerked at the direct assault. I was already soaked and ready, so his long fingers were immediately able to push away the lacy thong and slide between the wet folds into me. Then he began to thrust them in and out of me at a leisurely pace, and I began to squirm like a worm.

At the same time that he angled his body to band an arm around my waist, he leaned forward, and whispered something into my ear. However, all of that was lost when suddenly, and unexpectedly, he increased his thrusts to such a brutal pace I actually felt dizzy.

My upper body struggled away from him while my lower body pushed into him as he finger-fucked me to within an inch of my life. I had never been used in this way before. It was obscene. It was nasty. It was also breathtakingly delicious and wildly exciting. I wanted to call out his name. I needed to… otherwise it seemed I would lose my mind. I wanted my brain to connect the man to the ferocious pleasure my body was experiencing. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing even this uncaring, indifferent, callous treatment of my body was pure heaven.

The whole time his eyes watched me. Sweat beaded across my forehead from the effort it took not to let him see how affected I was. Then my back started to arch. And there was no more hiding.

Still, he held me in place and drilled into me until I spilled onto his hands with an excruciating cry. My vision was blurred from the orgasm, my hands were clawed onto his jacket. The floor was wet with my juices. It was embarrassing.

I hated that I was like this… that he could reduce me to this, so I buried my face into the crook of his neck and pounded my fist against his chest.

It was probably a very bad idea to assault him in this way, but I didn’t care. How dare he? How dare he treat me like this? Just because he was a sophisticate who knew exactly how a woman’s body worked didn’t mean he had to make me feel so cheap and dirty.

He remained still while I beat at him. I knew my efforts were puny and useless.

When I was spent, he grabbed my wrists and peeled me away from him. With a firm grip he held them over my head. Then ripped my flimsy thong from my hips and flung the scrap of fabric away. It fell on the floor with a whisper of defeat.

My chest was still heaving as I struggled to catch my breath.

I hated him, I decided as I watched his eyes darken. He unzipped his pants, and before he could pull out his cock I shut my eyes and turned my face away.

Tags: Georgia Le Carre Billionaire Romance
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