Insta-Hubby (A Billionaire Fake Relationship Romance)
Page 24
“It is good,” I say, taking a sip from my own glass. “And you said you made this?”
“That’s right,” she says. She licks the corner of her lips slowly. “That’s how I already know how good it is.”
“It is good,” I say.
“I’m glad you like it,” she breathes.
I can feel her shudder as she looks away from my eyes, her gaze moving down my face, to my lips, and then lower to my chest.
And then lower.
“You can look at me, sweetheart,” I say, putting a fingers under her chin, “you don’t have to be afraid. We’re alone now. You don’t have to look away.”
She exhales heavily and her eyes come back up to mine.
“I’m not afraid,” she says defiantly. I feel her body move toward mine and I slip a hand onto the small of her back, pulling her closer to me.
“I think you are afraid, girl,” I say, my cock like a diamond inside my clothes. “I think you were afraid of your panties getting all wet when you were supposed to be working. Am I right?”
She swallows thickly and she bites down hard on her lower lip.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know.”
“Then let me check,” I growl, “is that okay? Is it okay for me to check your panties?”
“How?” she breathes.
“I can just look if you want,” I say, my mind swimming in her beauty, “or I can touch, if that’s okay.”
She closes her eyes and nods, and I can feel her pressing herself harder into me.
“Which is it?” I whisper into her ear sweetly. “You want me to just look or do you want me to touch?”
“Whatever you want,” she says. I can feel her heart slamming into her chest, beating against mine.
“I want to look,” I say, “but I don’t want to be too obvious in case someone comes in. So I’m just going to touch. I’m just going to slip a finger into your panties to see how wet I made you. I’m not going to do anything to you. I just want to see how wet I made you.”
Her forehead falls forward against my chest as I move my hand lower, past the dip in her back, and graze her round, smooth ass.
“Let me in,” I growl, putting one hand on the back of her neck and hook the other one under her thigh, forcing her to bend her knee and bring her pussy close to me. My fingers find her pussy under her little black skirt, and she is absolutely soaking through the fabric.
She moans against my chest and I feel a laugh break inside her throat as I stroke the outside of her wet panties.
“I don’t even have to slip a finger inside, “ I say, “to see how wet I made you.”
“Are you going to stop now that you see how wet I am?” she asks, peering up at me.
“Do you want me to stop, baby?” I say, taking her chin in my hands. “Do you want me to stop?”
I feel her tense up, and her throat moves under my hand as she swallows.
“No,” she damn near whimpers, “I don’t want you to stop.”
“But sweetheart, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can just keep you nice and wet and begging. I need to taste that sweet little pussy, girl.”
She looks up at me and her eyes grow wide.
She is scared.
So I stop.
I pull my fingers away from her panties, and I haven’t even touched her skin yet, but my fingers are soaked and I bring them to my lips, sucking away her wetness.
“Why?” she asks, her eyes glowering with confusion. “Why did you stop?”
“Because you seem nervous. And I don’t want to do anything you are not comfortable with.”
She backs away from me and hurries over to the kitchen table, busying herself with some cookies or something I couldn’t give two shits about.
Who the hell is this girl?
She bends over again and I swear she is teasing me with that little fucking skirt, with that round ass and the way she keeps showing it off for me.
“You like teasing me, sweetness?” I say, coming up behind her. But I don’t put my hands on her. I don’t dare. Not until she tells me she is good and fucking ready. “You like showing me your sweet little ass?”
She spins around to face me, her face flush and a hint of moisture forming around her temples. It’s a warm morning, but I am making this girl sweat.
And she smells like a fucking ripe strawberry.
“Meet me upstairs in five minutes,” she says, grabbing a tray of drinks and making her way out the door.
I don’t know if I can wait five whole minutes.
I don’t know if I can wait to know her name.
I don’t know if I can wait to make her scream mine.
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