The Billionaire's Embrace
Page 15
I opened the door further and stepped into the room. When I shut the door behind me, Carter turned at the soft sound. His hair was falling across his face, and he looked tired. His shirt was rumpled and rolled up at the sleeves.
“Regan. You found me.”
“You weren’t hard to find,” I said. I crossed the room and stood in front of him, burying my hands in his messy hair. “Long day?”
“The longest,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my abdomen. “I wanted to see you. Selfishly. I won’t keep you long. The others will be arriving shortly.”
“You’re having a party tonight?” I asked.
He made a noise of agreement. “Hackett’s coming. I’m supposed to ask him some leading questions. It’s difficult when he spends the entire time with a dancer wiggling around in his lap.”
Having seen it myself, I knew exactly what he meant. Carter was helping to build a case against Richard Hackett for securities fraud, but it had been months, and Hackett was too interested in the dancers to say anything incriminating. I knew that it was stressing Carter out, but I couldn’t be too sorry. Hackett was the whole reason Carter came to the club, and if it weren’t for him, we never would have met.
I drew my hands through Carter’s hair, running my fingers across his scalp. “Why don’t you ask me to serve for you anymore?”
“Because I don’t want to share you,” he said.
Oh. That sent a shiver down my spine. I liked it when he was possessive.
“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me. I spent all day having people yell at me about operating costs. Tell me what you did this morning.”
I sat beside him on the couch, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. “Well, I woke up,” I said.
He grinned at me, his tired eyes lighting up. “And then what? You rolled around in bed for a while in your silk nightie?”
I mostly slept in oversized T-shirts. “Yes,” I said.
“That’s a pleasant mental image,” he said, and then he sobered, and looked at me with a serious expression on his face. “I enjoyed meeting your friends last night. Please tell Sadie I’m grateful to her for inviting me.”
“They liked you,” I said, and I thought it was true. I hadn’t done a full postmortem with Sadie yet, but she had texted me after Carter dropped me off at home: nice catch
“I’m glad,” he said. “So tell me more about this silk nightie.”
I blushed. Did he really want to spend time discussing my nonexistent lingerie? “Well, it’s silk,” I said.
“Yes, we’ve established that. What else?” He leaned toward me and put one hand on my knee. The weight of it, the warmth, reminded me that it had been more than a week since we’d done anything but trade a few kisses. My libido sat up and took notice. Carter was touching me, and my body wanted more of it, and right away, and damn the torpedoes.
“It’s red,” I said. Red was a sexy color, right? “And it has—lace along the neckline.”
“Good,” he said. He kissed my neck, right behind my ear. I shivered. “Tell me more.”
“I, um.” I racked my brain for something else to say. “The fabric—feels nice against my skin.” This was embarrassing. I sounded like bad soft-core porn.
But Carter was enjoying it. He slid his his hand up my leg to settle in the crease of my hip, and moved his mouth down my neck, sucking soft kisses against my skin. I tilted my head to one side to give him better access, and he took full advantage, pulling me close against him and kissing his way down to the sensitive hollow of my collarbone.
I felt alive, alight. His hands and mouth shaped my body into a new form, and I welcomed the change. He knew me as someone desirable, and when he touched me, I felt myself becoming that person. Someone worthy of love. Someone who deserved the intimacy and pleasure he offered.
“What time is it?” he murmured against my skin.
I looked at the clock on the wall. “4:15.”
“We have time,” he said. “Enough.” He sat back and touched my cheek. “Do you want to be good for me?”
I knew those words. They meant he was about to take control, and I would surrender to him joyfully. I swallowed. “Yes.”
“My sweet girl,” he said. “I want you to kneel on the floor.”
Trembling with anticipation, I slid off the sofa and knelt before him, hands clasped in my lap. He spread his knees, and I could see the shape of his erection, outlined by his wool trousers.
My mouth watered. I knew what would come next, and I wanted it.
“That’s right,” he said. “You’re eager for it, aren’t you? I want you to unbutton my pants.”
My hands shook as I reached forward and unfastened his trousers. My wrist brushed against his hard cock, and I felt it twitch in response.
“Good,” he said. “Now unzip me.”
I did as he said, tugging the tab of his zipper and revealing his black boxer-briefs. The fabric clung to his erection, showing me the thick shaft and the round head.
He slid one hand around the back of my head and cupped it there, holding me in place. His other hand slid into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and tugged it down, slowly, slowly, until his cock sprang free and rested, flushed and heavy, against his lower belly.
He fisted his other hand in my hair and tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “Do you want to suck my cock, Regan?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper.
“Should I let you?” he asked. “I don’t know that you’ll be any good. I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”
“I’ll be good,” I said. “Please let me. I’ll be—I’ll—”
“You’ll have to convince me,” he said.
I moved my hands to his thighs. He released my hair, and I looked down, at the apex of his thighs, at his arousal. I had never been this close to a hard penis, and I was both excited and intimidated. I didn’t want to do anything wrong and disappoint him.
I knew the basic mechanics, of course, from reading magazines and watching a little bit of porn, but putting it into practice was daunting. I slid my left hand around the base of his cock and gave it a tentative squeeze. It was firm, solid. I moved my thumb over the swollen vein on the underside, feeling the hot blood washing through it, and looked up at Carter to gauge his reaction.
“Regan. You found me.”
“You weren’t hard to find,” I said. I crossed the room and stood in front of him, burying my hands in his messy hair. “Long day?”
“The longest,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my abdomen. “I wanted to see you. Selfishly. I won’t keep you long. The others will be arriving shortly.”
“You’re having a party tonight?” I asked.
He made a noise of agreement. “Hackett’s coming. I’m supposed to ask him some leading questions. It’s difficult when he spends the entire time with a dancer wiggling around in his lap.”
Having seen it myself, I knew exactly what he meant. Carter was helping to build a case against Richard Hackett for securities fraud, but it had been months, and Hackett was too interested in the dancers to say anything incriminating. I knew that it was stressing Carter out, but I couldn’t be too sorry. Hackett was the whole reason Carter came to the club, and if it weren’t for him, we never would have met.
I drew my hands through Carter’s hair, running my fingers across his scalp. “Why don’t you ask me to serve for you anymore?”
“Because I don’t want to share you,” he said.
Oh. That sent a shiver down my spine. I liked it when he was possessive.
“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me. I spent all day having people yell at me about operating costs. Tell me what you did this morning.”
I sat beside him on the couch, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. “Well, I woke up,” I said.
He grinned at me, his tired eyes lighting up. “And then what? You rolled around in bed for a while in your silk nightie?”
I mostly slept in oversized T-shirts. “Yes,” I said.
“That’s a pleasant mental image,” he said, and then he sobered, and looked at me with a serious expression on his face. “I enjoyed meeting your friends last night. Please tell Sadie I’m grateful to her for inviting me.”
“They liked you,” I said, and I thought it was true. I hadn’t done a full postmortem with Sadie yet, but she had texted me after Carter dropped me off at home: nice catch
“I’m glad,” he said. “So tell me more about this silk nightie.”
I blushed. Did he really want to spend time discussing my nonexistent lingerie? “Well, it’s silk,” I said.
“Yes, we’ve established that. What else?” He leaned toward me and put one hand on my knee. The weight of it, the warmth, reminded me that it had been more than a week since we’d done anything but trade a few kisses. My libido sat up and took notice. Carter was touching me, and my body wanted more of it, and right away, and damn the torpedoes.
“It’s red,” I said. Red was a sexy color, right? “And it has—lace along the neckline.”
“Good,” he said. He kissed my neck, right behind my ear. I shivered. “Tell me more.”
“I, um.” I racked my brain for something else to say. “The fabric—feels nice against my skin.” This was embarrassing. I sounded like bad soft-core porn.
But Carter was enjoying it. He slid his his hand up my leg to settle in the crease of my hip, and moved his mouth down my neck, sucking soft kisses against my skin. I tilted my head to one side to give him better access, and he took full advantage, pulling me close against him and kissing his way down to the sensitive hollow of my collarbone.
I felt alive, alight. His hands and mouth shaped my body into a new form, and I welcomed the change. He knew me as someone desirable, and when he touched me, I felt myself becoming that person. Someone worthy of love. Someone who deserved the intimacy and pleasure he offered.
“What time is it?” he murmured against my skin.
I looked at the clock on the wall. “4:15.”
“We have time,” he said. “Enough.” He sat back and touched my cheek. “Do you want to be good for me?”
I knew those words. They meant he was about to take control, and I would surrender to him joyfully. I swallowed. “Yes.”
“My sweet girl,” he said. “I want you to kneel on the floor.”
Trembling with anticipation, I slid off the sofa and knelt before him, hands clasped in my lap. He spread his knees, and I could see the shape of his erection, outlined by his wool trousers.
My mouth watered. I knew what would come next, and I wanted it.
“That’s right,” he said. “You’re eager for it, aren’t you? I want you to unbutton my pants.”
My hands shook as I reached forward and unfastened his trousers. My wrist brushed against his hard cock, and I felt it twitch in response.
“Good,” he said. “Now unzip me.”
I did as he said, tugging the tab of his zipper and revealing his black boxer-briefs. The fabric clung to his erection, showing me the thick shaft and the round head.
He slid one hand around the back of my head and cupped it there, holding me in place. His other hand slid into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and tugged it down, slowly, slowly, until his cock sprang free and rested, flushed and heavy, against his lower belly.
He fisted his other hand in my hair and tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “Do you want to suck my cock, Regan?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper.
“Should I let you?” he asked. “I don’t know that you’ll be any good. I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”
“I’ll be good,” I said. “Please let me. I’ll be—I’ll—”
“You’ll have to convince me,” he said.
I moved my hands to his thighs. He released my hair, and I looked down, at the apex of his thighs, at his arousal. I had never been this close to a hard penis, and I was both excited and intimidated. I didn’t want to do anything wrong and disappoint him.
I knew the basic mechanics, of course, from reading magazines and watching a little bit of porn, but putting it into practice was daunting. I slid my left hand around the base of his cock and gave it a tentative squeeze. It was firm, solid. I moved my thumb over the swollen vein on the underside, feeling the hot blood washing through it, and looked up at Carter to gauge his reaction.
