Stop thinking about Clinton. He’s gone. And he never had this. This…what’s happening between Sienna and me…this is real.
“Is there…” Confusion etched her face. And fear? Fuck, had he terrified her? “Did I do something wrong?”
Heart slamming against his chest, he shook his head. “No. I…I did.”
She frowned. “Care to tell me what?”
He’d hurt her. Christ, he hadn’t meant to. Not at all. All he wanted was to give her pleasure. To show her how much he enjoyed being with her, on every level. To show her how much he desired her, wanted her. Instead, the past had reared its tormented fucking head and now…
“No.” How the hell did he explain what he’d planned to do to her?
I can’t.
“But trust me,” he went on, pulse pounding in his ears like a bloody cannon, “the wrong thing I did isn’t this.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, and then nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Not at the moment. I want one thing from you and one thing only.” She leaned toward him and stroked her fingers up the silk-covered length of his erection. “This. Inside me.”
He stared into her eyes. His gut churned. His balls throbbed.
Something he couldn’t decipher flickered in her eyes, and then she drew in a soft breath.
“Please?”
The uncertain request undid him.
He was a slave to her. Had been the moment he’d arrived at her home and she’d answered the door not knowing it was him. Had been the moment he saw her with her own brother, her tender care…her honest heart…
“For you, Si.” He destroyed the minute distance between them and balled his fist in her hair. “Anything.”
A smile curled her lips and she sighed. “Hell, yeah.”
…
She disconnected her heart from the moment and relinquished control of her body.
The second his tongue swept over hers, she surrendered to the pleasure he wrought on her as well.
She worked his rigid length through his boxers, kissing him with a hunger to match his as he tore at his clothes. His tie fell to the floor beside her feet, followed by his belt and trousers and tuxedo jacket. All without breaking their kiss.
There wasn’t a hope in hell she was walking away from their encounter with her heart intact—she was who she was, and he was James Dyson, after all—but for this night, this night, she was willing to sacrifice her sanity, her future pride, in the tsunami of raw pleasure he gave her. This night…
“Christ,” he growled against her lips, fighting with his shirt. “These goddamn buttons.”
She laughed. “Do something about them then.”
“Okay.” He bunched his hands at the neckline of his shirt and yanked it apart.
Cotton tore. Buttons dropped to the carpeted floor, and then he shoved his hand between her thighs and buried a finger into her sex once more.
Concentrated lust flooded through her at the rough invasion, and she rolled her hips. How did he know what she wanted so well? Like they’d made love to each other over and over before? How?
She tore her mouth from his, her moan reverberating around the living room.
“Oh, wow…” She scraped her nails over his shoulders, riding his finger. “Oh James, I’m going…”
An orgasm ripped through her, hard and fast, tearing a choked groan from her. No. She didn’t want it to be over yet. Not yet. She wanted—
He parted her folds with two fingers, running his tongue over the tiny nub of sensitive flesh he’d revealed.
“Holy fuck.” She clawed at the back of the sofa, her knees trembling. “I like that a lot.”
He did it again, a low chuckle sending vibrations through her sex.
She shoved her hips forward. “That’s so good.”
He pulled away, grinning up at her. “Of course it is. Are you surprised?”
She shook her head, her breath ragged. “No.”
He chuckled. “Question?”
“Shoot.”
“If I were to make love to you here, right here on this sofa, would you regret it?”
She hadn’t expected to be romanced tonight. Hell, she hadn’t expected to be naked in his home, let alone riding the wave of a bone-melting orgasm. For him to ask her how she felt about where he made love to her…
What was it about him that threw her for loop after loop after loop? Only a few days ago he was the biggest bastard in her life. But now…oh God, now…
Now he’s what?
“I won’t regret it.” Who cared what he was now. Now it was about the base hunger throbbing through her. “Not at all.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. About you. About this. About us.”
His nostrils flared. Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Us,” he murmured, before lowering back to his knees and smoothing his hands up the inside of her thighs.
“Us right now.” Her head swam as his fingertips skimmed her folds, still sensitive from her orgasm.
He bent at the waist and placed a gentle kiss on the skin above her navel. “Right now.” He moved his lips up to the under swell on her right breast. “And later tonight.”
He skimmed his mouth over her nipple. “And tomorrow morning.”
A shudder wracked her. Her eyes fluttered closed. She drew in a swift breath, the caress of his lips and tongue on her flesh detonating fresh arousal in her.
“Just right now,” she insisted, even as she raked her nails up to cup the back of his head.
He circled her nipple with his tongue. She moaned, fisting her hand in his hair.
“We’ll discuss everything after just right now later. But for now…” He straightened to his feet.
“What are you looking for?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he scooped up his discarded tuxedo jacket, withdrew his wallet from its inside pocket, and flipped open the black leather.
Her heart smashed up into her throat. Condom. He’s getting a condom.
Her breath quickened. Oh God, when was the last time she…
He lifted his gaze from the condom packet in his fingers, a question in his eyes she had no answer for. She swallowed, her pulse leaping into frantic flight.
Something stirred deep inside her at the idea of him entering her without being encased in latex. Something base and carnal. And yet…
“Do you want me to put this on?” He studied her, his body motionless.
Such a loaded question.
“I will if you want me to.”
She raked a jerky gaze over him, her heart wild. He stood before her, exposed in every way.
His chest rose and fell as he pulled his own ragged breath. “I’m giving you the power. This is me, showing you I trust you.”
“I don’t want you to wear it.” She didn’t. Not at all.
He closed his eyes, a soft sigh falling from him. She’d never seen him look so vulnerable. Or happy.
A rush of warmth flowed through her. “I don’t want you to wear it,” she repeated, louder.
James opened his eyes and looked at her.
She met his gaze. “I use an IUD. And I trust you.”
“Christ, Si.” He shook his head. “I…”
He didn’t finish. Instead, he dropped his jacket and wallet, positioned himself between her thighs, and nudged her folds with the tip of his erection.
She hissed in a breath at the slight penetration of his flesh into hers. Oh yeah. So good. So goddamn good…
“Tell me to go get a rubber, Si, and I will.” His stare found hers. His warm breath fanned her lips. One hand smoothed up her side, over the side swell of her. “Tell me to sink into your sweet heat without one, and I’ll do that as well.”
Throat thick, pulse pounding, Sienna curled her lips in a slow smile. “Without—”
He buried into her in one fluid stroke.
“Oh God, yes!”
He yanked her leg off the floor, withdrew a little, and slid back into her, tugging her bent knee up
to his side as he did so.
Concentrated pleasure consumed her, radiating from the deep stretching of her sex, through her body, up to her breasts. Her nipples turned to aching points, and she arched her spine, craving his mouth or fingers on them.
“James…” She scraped her nails over his scalp, down the back of his neck and over his shoulder, rolling into his deepening penetrations. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“No fucking way.” Pleasure crashed through her at his growl. Her head swam, each pounding stroke from James propelling her faster toward another climax.
A tight tingle of heat and pressure built in her core.
She closed her eyes, a willing prisoner of his mastery of her body, its senses, its wants.
He drove deeper into her, his hands exploring her thighs, her hips, her breasts.
“James…” She whimpered when he moved a hand to where their bodies joined. “James, I’m going to…I’m going to come.”
He nipped at her lips with his own. “I want you to, gorgeous. I want you to fucking explode all around me.”
Holy fuck! Another orgasm blasted through her, hot and wild. Perfect and consuming.
She bucked into his thrusts, her toes curling, her eyes scrunched shut.
So good…so…so…holy crap…so…
His body stiffened, his fingers frenzied on her body. “Sienna,” he groaned against her neck, his thrusts erratic, his seed pumping into her. “Sienna, I…I…”
His strokes slowed, slowed, grew still.
“Fuck, Sienna.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “That was…”
“Amazing.”
“Amazing,” he echoed her.
Hands gentle on her hips, her breasts, he withdrew from her.
She moaned, dismayed at the loss of their connection.
He chuckled, dropping a kiss on the skin above her belly button again. “Totally agree.” With another soft laugh, he raised his head and smiled at her. “Now…about that coffee?”
She smiled back. “What’s the rush?” She tangled her fingers in his hair and captured his mouth with hers.
Who knew if she’d ever get a chance to make love to James Dyson again after tonight? She sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it on drinking coffee.
No matter how damn good it was.
Chapter Eleven
“Okay.” Sienna lowered the steaming mug in her hand to her lap. “I’ll admit, this is good coffee. Well worth the wait.”
James blew on his fingernails and polished them on his chest. “Told you.”
She laughed. “Ego much?”
“Hey, as you have pointed out many times, I’m James Dyson.” He grinned. “I’m allowed to have an ego.”
She rolled her eyes, lips twitching. “You’re lucky I like you, or I’d give you a hard time right now about that.”
He laughed, even as his chest tightened. He wanted to point out she gave him a hard time every time she turned her bewitching green eyes on him, but the quip was caught in his throat. She liked him.
Liked him.
Taking a sip of his own coffee, he fought to calm his racing heart. The second she’d uttered the words “I like you” a jolt of wild elation shot through him, like a teenager getting a note in class from his biggest crush. If they hadn’t spent the last two hours completely lost in each other’s bodies, he’d press her back flat on the rug and lose himself in her again. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her. Not just her body, but her. That she made him laugh as well as horny only emphasized how wonderfully addictive she was.
That she liked him only made him crazier for her.
Watching her sip at her latte, he shifted on the rug. If they didn’t put clothes on soon, he wouldn’t last until she finished drinking. He’d never met a woman so at peace in her skin. Hell, even the supermodels he’d slept with always assumed some semblance of modesty after the deed was done, reaching for their designer underwear or robes. Sienna didn’t seem to feel the need. She sat on the floor, her back resting against the sofa’s edge, her hair a wild mess of tousled copper around her head and shoulders, her knees bent, her ankles together. From where he lay on his side beside her, he could feast on the sight of her breasts without any interference.
Trying to remain a calmly controlled adult was damn near killing him.
“I should call a taxi. Or book an Uber.”
He frowned. “Huh? What?”
She chuckled. “I’m going to need to get home to Zach soon, Mr. Cool.”
His gut knotted. No. He didn’t want her to go. “So soon?”
She licked at the foam on her top lip. “He’s only fifteen, remember. I don’t like leaving him alone for too long, and it is almost midnight.”
Shit, was it? He dropped his watch a quick glance. “Do you want to call him? Make sure he’s okay?”
Lowering her mug, she shook her head. “I don’t want to wake him if he’s asleep. Although the odds of that are pretty slim. Having said that, I also don’t want to warn him if he’s having a party.”
James narrowed his eyes. “Would he do that?”
“Probably not, but I’m not one-hundred percent sure. We really are still getting to know each other. I get the feeling the spoiled petulant boy I first met who liked pissing people off may not be the real Zach, but…” She shrugged. Hope laced her words, along with a warmth he recognized—the protective, soul-deep feelings only a sibling could have for another person. It stirred something in him. Something profound. Christ, she was beautiful. On every level. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall in—
“I think we’re finally getting along.”
“Who?” What the hell was he thinking? There was no way he could be—
“Zach and I.” Her eyebrows dipped into a curious frown. “Who did you think I was talking about?”
He didn’t answer. How did a super-successful, multi-billionaire confess he hoped a woman was talking about him and her? Especially when he’d swooped back into her life with the sole intent of making it a tormented nightmare?
She studied him, waiting for him to say something.
He ground his teeth, feeling unsettled. Was it because he hoped she’d stay the night when he’d never wanted any other lover to do so? Or because he wanted her to be thinking about him as much as he was thinking of her?
“Would you like me to go get Zachary?” Yes, bringing her brother here was a smart move. All of them together…under the one roof. “Bring him back here? I can check on the possible party status while there and deal with it if need be. I’ve got a brilliant security team on-call who can clean up—” He trailed off. “That was too much, wasn’t it?”
She gave him a small smile. “A tad.”
He dragged himself upright, resting his back on the sofa beside her. “Sorry. I’m just…” He stopped again. How did he say what he wanted to without sounding like a foolish teenager?
“Enjoying being with me?”
His heart slammed into his throat. “Yes.”
She drew in a slow breath, her gaze on his face. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
“We really didn’t have a good beginning, did we?” He paused, frowning. “Well, our second beginning. Or is it our third?”
“And yet here we are. What happens next?”
“I make love to you again?”
She chuckled at his attempt at flippant humor. Did she have any idea his question was sincere? “Not tonight, as much as I want to.”
I want to.
Her confession sheared through him. She wanted to make love to him again. “Tomorrow?”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth. “I think…”
His heart thumped harder.
“I think that might be nice.”
A relieved breath tore from him. When had he started holding it? “I’ll bring breakfast. Is seven too early?”
He was pushing her. He couldn’t help it. At the realization he wasn’t going to wake up with her in his arms, he needed to pinpoint when he
would see her next. How many hours and minutes until he could hold her again. Talk to her. Hear her voice, her laugh. Make love to her.
Be with her. Just be with her.
In every goddamn—
She straightened to her feet and stepped over him. “I think I better call a taxi.”
He almost snared her wrist in his fist. Almost yanked her back down to him. He wouldn’t let her leave him. She wasn’t allowed. She was staying here with him. They needed to make love again. He needed to claim her lips with his, hold her to his body, her legs straddling his hip, his throbbing length buried in her heat.
He needed…he needed…
Her.
Christ, he needed her.
“Sienna…”
He stopped himself before he could say please stay. Just.
She scooped her dress up from where he’d tossed it earlier, covering her beautiful body with its shimmery black fabric. She looked around the floor, a tension in her shoulders he wished to hell. “Do you know where my undies are?”
He scanned the floor around him. Every breath he pulled tasted of her. “No.”
With a muttered curse, she shook her head and snatched up her stilettos and small purse. “No matter. I don’t need them.”
He hurried to his feet. Who would have thought he’d be fighting to keep a woman in his home? And doing it naked, at that. “I can drive you.”
She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I need time to think.”
“About us?”
“About us.”
“About me making love to you tomorrow?”
“That. And other things.”
“Like what happens next?”
“Like what happens next.”
He forced a relaxed smile to his lips. “Breakfast. Something simple.”
A still wariness fell over her. She studied him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “Please don’t hurt me, James.”
He closed the space between them in one step, and brought his hands up to cup her face with gentle hands. “I won’t.”
And he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not now he knew who she was.
He let her go, strode across the room to the landline, and called his private driver service. There was no way in hell he was letting her travel across Sydney in a taxi. Or an Uber.
The Stubborn Billionaire (a Muse novel) Page 13
