The Wicked Billionaire--A Billionaire SEAL Romance

by Jackie Ashenden

  Was she like this with Griffin?

  An odd feeling washed through him. It wasn’t guilt. Sure, he’d felt drawn to Grace before Griffin had died, but he’d never done anything about it while his friend had been alive. And besides, Griffin wouldn’t know. He was dead. No, this was something else. Something that felt like …

  Jealousy.

  No, that was ridiculous. He’d never been jealous in his life and he wasn’t going to start now.

  Ignoring the emotion, Lucas eased Grace back against the white tiles, then dropped to his knees in front of her. He wanted to taste her, tease her, drive her as crazy as she made him.

  Make her forget every other man she’s been with …

  Lucas leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her stomach, tasting the water streaming over them and the faint, salty flavor of Grace herself. It was delicious, so he went lower, running his tongue down over her skin to the wet curls between her legs. She shivered, her fingertips coming to settle on the sides of his head, resting there lightly.

  He could feel her tension, her muscles coiled tight as if she wasn’t sure about what was going to happen. It made him wonder things about her. Things about her and Griffin. But he didn’t want to be thinking about stuff like that, not when he was on his knees and that delicious little pussy was right in front of him.

  So he gripped the tops of her thighs, gently spreading her open with his thumbs. Yet another tremble went through her and he loved that. Loved how fast and desperate her breathing had gotten in the steamy confines of the shower.

  He leaned in, licking a path straight up the middle of her sex, getting a taste of all that salty wetness, the flavor exploding on his tongue and going straight to his head like a shot of the very best alcohol money could buy. He’d meant to tease her clit a bit more, make her moan, but he couldn’t help himself, leaning in farther and pushing his tongue deep inside her.

  The fingertips on either side of his head tightened and she gasped yet again, her hips lifting against his mouth. Yet it wasn’t enough, so he slid one hand around the back of her thigh, then down behind her knee, urging her leg up and over his shoulder. Opening her wider so he could taste her deeper.

  “Lucas.…” His name was a desperate moan as she arched against the tiles, holding his head in a death grip as he worked her with his tongue, fucking her with it. “God … it’s … I can’t…”

  But he wasn’t listening. He was lost in her. In her salty/sweet taste, in her heat. In the way her body shuddered and shook as she got close to the edge. In how badly he wanted her to scream his name as she went over it.

  So he kept his mouth right where it was and brought his fingers into play. Stroking her clit, circling and teasing in time with the thrust of his tongue. And it didn’t take very long before her whole body went stiff, and indeed, she screamed his name as the climax took her.

  He was very tempted to push himself inside her right there in the shower, but he really needed a condom and there were some in the nightstand beside his bed. So he turned off the water and gathered her lax body up in his arms, stepping out of the shower with her. Then he dried them both off before carrying her down the hallway to his bedroom.

  It was very plain and white, just how he liked it, the bed, a couple of nightstands, and a dresser the only furniture. He carried her over to the bed and laid her on the mattress, following her down onto it.

  She put her arms over her head, spreading her legs for him as if he were a lover she’d known for years and was comfortable with instead of her husband’s friend with whom she’d had an awkward relationship.

  Another example of how she simply embraced what she felt without questioning, without restraint.

  You could learn something from her.

  He already had. He was embracing what he felt right now, in fact.

  Reaching for the condoms in the nightstand, he took one out and got the packet open, rolling the latex down over his aching dick. Then he spread her thighs wider with his hands, pushing them as far apart as he could. She inhaled sharply as he did so and again he saw something that looked like uncertainty in her eyes. But he was too hard to wait, to think about what it was and what might have put it there, so he stretched himself over her, his hands on either side of her head, looking down into her eyes so all she saw was him.

  Then, holding her gaze, he pushed inside her, going slowly this time, wanting to relish it and not gorge himself the way he had before. But she was so tight around him. So wet. So hot. Her pupils had dilated, looking black in the dim light of the room, and when she lifted her hands to him, trailing her fingertips over his chest, he was the one who shuddered.

  It felt like she’d run them over his soul and it was too much. She was too hot. She was like holding a flame in his bare hands.

  He thrust once, twice, then pulled out of her and flipped her over onto her front. Gently he took her wrists in his hands and drew them behind her, holding them in the small of her back with one hand. He couldn’t have her touching him, not like that.

  Keeping her wrists pinned, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her up onto her knees. She was shaking, her head turning to the side on the pillow. “Lucas…” Her voice sounded strained. “I don’t know … I don’t know if I can do this again.”

  He guided himself between her thighs, finding her slick flesh, sliding in deep, making her jerk against his hold, gasping. “You can.” The words were guttural, torn from him. “You will.”

  Then he began to move, pulling his hips back and thrusting in, harder, faster, the pleasure beginning to build, annihilating.

  She groaned. Her eyes had closed, her lashes resting on her deeply flushed cheeks, her mouth open. “I can’t.…” It was a mere whisper. “I can’t.…”

  But of course she could. She’d come with him every step of the way since and she’d be with him now. He reached around with his free hand, putting it on her stomach and then sliding it down between her thighs, finding her clit and stroking, a slow back-and-forth that drew a hoarse scream from her.

  And he kept moving, kept pushing in deep, lost in the heat of her pussy around him, in the pleasure that was ripping him apart. Kept touching her until she bucked and arched beneath him, screaming her climax into the pillow.

  Only then did he let himself go, driving himself into her, faster, harder. And just before his own orgasm completely destroyed him, he had the oddest thought.

  When he was young he’d thought Heaven was the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. Going camping with his brothers or shooting his new rifle. Then, after the stable fire, he’d never thought about it again, not even when he’d gotten older and joined the forces, facing death on the most desperate missions. But right now in this bed, buried deep in her heat, her cries in his ears, he thought that Heaven might be here, in this moment.

  With Grace wrapped all around him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Grace opened her eyes to find herself lying on her back with a heavy male arm lying over her stomach. And she had a moment’s disorientation thinking that the arm had to belong to Griffin, because she’d never slept with any other guy, so who else’s could it be?

  Then she realized that this wasn’t her bedroom in the apartment she’d shared with Griffin, which meant the arm across her wasn’t Griffin’s. And anyway, Griffin was dead …

  A sudden influx of memory caught at her. She’d been painting in her studio and then Lucas had come in and—

  Oh God. Lucas.

  She turned her head on the pillow and sure enough, the man lying next to her wasn’t dark or built like a boxer. He was long and lean, and muscled like a panther. He was also blond, the gray winter light coming through the windows tipping his hair nearly silver, his beautiful face relaxed in sleep.

  Shock moved slowly through her as memories of the night before began to filter through her consciousness. Of his mouth on her in the shower, the water streaming over her body as he’d tasted her, making the intense pleasure unfurl inside her. And
then later, in his bed, on her knees with him behind her, holding her wrists in the small of her back as he’d thrust into her, his fingers between her thighs, playing her like an instrument made especially for him.

  She hadn’t thought he could possibly wring another orgasm from her, not after she’d had three already, and she’d told him so.

  Apparently, she’d been wrong.

  You’ve been wrong about a lot of things, haven’t you?

  Heat moved through her and she looked away from him, guilt and embarrassment following along in its wake.

  Not only was it possible for her to have a fourth orgasm in a row, it was also completely possible for her to be so hungry for a man that she wanted him to give her another one. Preferably soon. Even right now.

  She hadn’t ever thought of herself as that type of woman. Not that it was bad, she’d just convinced herself that sex wasn’t that big of a deal. Pleasant when it happened, but nothing to crave like she needed air to breathe.

  Maybe you just weren’t that type of woman with Griffin.

  Her cheeks heated even further, guilt twisting inside her like an eel on the end of a fishing line. There was no denying it, she hadn’t felt this way with Griffin, not even a bit of it. She’d liked him a lot, and when he’d died she’d felt the sorrow of it like an arrow in her chest. But … he’d never taken her down onto a hard wooden floor and made her scream. Nor had he knelt at her feet in the shower and licked her like an ice cream. He’d never taken her from behind either, and she had a horrible feeling that if he’d done any of those things she would have pushed him away. She would have said no.

  But she hadn’t said no to Lucas. She definitely hadn’t treated him like a friend. She’d put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She’d screamed his name. She’d let him do whatever he wanted to her.

  You’d never say no to him.

  The guilt inside her twisted tighter, another thread of unease twisting with it. If Lucas had come to her the way he had yesterday, while Griffin was still alive, would she still have given in as easily? Would she have been unable to say no then too?

  She swallowed, not wanting to think about that.

  Because you know the answer. Selfishness runs in your family, don’t you know.…

  Grace took a little breath. Maybe she should get out of bed, get some distance. That painting wasn’t going to paint itself and she really needed to get back into it. But dammit, his arm was lying right across her, which was going to make leaving problematic if she didn’t want to wake him up.…

  Her heart raced, her body aching. She didn’t want to think about Griffin, or her father, not right now. Not with Lucas so warm and so close, and fast asleep. And maybe this was a good time to just … look at him. See if she could figure out what it was about him that made her so desperate every time he was near.

  Slowly, Grace eased his arm away from her and sat up, looking down at him. He was on his side, his blond head pillowed on his other arm, and the sheet had slipped down to his waist, leaving his magnificent torso bare.

  Her breath caught. His body was beautiful, all hard-cut muscle and taut golden skin, marred here and there with the white scars of old injuries. His time in the military clearly hadn’t been without incident, because she knew a bullet wound when she saw one; Griffin had had a couple himself.

  On Lucas’s shoulder she caught a glimpse of black lines, and closer inspection revealed the same tattoo of a skeletal frog that Griffin had had on his chest. SEAL ink. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and tracing the outline of it, the heat of Lucas’s skin burning against her fingertips as the look on his face the night before burned in her memory.

  Savage. Feral. The look of a man who knew what he wanted and who was going to take it no matter what.

  Her. He’d wanted her.

  A shiver went through her, shaking her on a level that went deeper than merely physical. It was an earth tremor, shaking the entire foundation of who she was.

  No one had ever wanted her the way Lucas had wanted her. Not with such passion. Not badly enough to cast aside the behavior of decades like a coat he’d been wearing and gotten sick of. Not badly enough that he’d looked at her like he’d die if he didn’t get to touch her.

  Griffin had never looked at her like that, not even when they’d first been married. Hell, if he had she would have run fast in the other direction anyway, because after years of her father’s steadily worsening emotional storms Griffin’s gentle, reassuring, and nondemanding interest had been exactly what she’d wanted. What she’d needed.

  But after the night with Lucas, she had a horrible feeling that she’d been lying to herself for a long time.

  You’ve been lying to Griffin too.

  Yeah, and that didn’t make her guilt any easier. Didn’t make her want to stop touching Lucas either.

  Her fingers slipped over his shoulder and she had the sudden intense urge to push him onto his back, so she did, pressing against his chest. He made a rough, sleepy noise and turned over obediently, flinging one hard, muscled arm above his head.

  Grace wriggled closer to him, letting her gaze rove over him. Part of her wanted to take a moment to sketch him while he was asleep and unguarded, yet another part simply wanted to touch him. Because there was a very definite ridge pressing against the sheet where his groin was, making her cheeks feel hot and her breath get short. She curled her hand in the sheet and pulled it down over his narrow hips, then farther still until he was fully exposed. She stared, her fingers itching to touch the hard cock that jutted between his muscular thighs, which was just as beautiful as the rest of him.

  Had she ever wanted to touch Griffin this way? No, she really hadn’t. And it wasn’t because Griffin hadn’t been as handsome as Lucas, since Griffin had been handsome in his own way. Sure, there was an element in her attraction that was to do with Lucas’s physical beauty, and definitely their intense physical chemistry was a part of it. But there was also something more there.

  She’d always been drawn to his contrasts, to the glimpses of a different man beneath the icy mask he wore. And over the past few days, she’d been further drawn to him by the way she seemed to affect him. As if she got under his skin as badly as he got under hers.

  That made her feel good. Gave her a sense of her own power, something she hadn’t understood before. It was almost a revelation.

  So, should she grab her sketch pad or simply keep on touching him?

  Grace reached out and laid a hand on his ridged abdomen, letting his heat soak into her palms. Okay, she was going to keep on touching him, because she might not get the chance again, not like this. She slid her hand down and curled her fingers around the base of his cock, watching in fascination as he seemed to get even harder.

  “I hope you’re going to do something about that.”

  Grace nearly jumped, the sound of his deep voice unexpected. She flicked a glance up at him, meeting a pair of silver-blue eyes watching her from underneath thick gold-tipped lashes.

  “Oh,” she said stupidly. “Good morning.”

  “And good morning to you.” He moved, too swiftly for her to escape, and seconds later she found herself lying stretched out on top of him, hot, firm muscle beneath her, the hard ridge of his cock lying against her thigh.

  She blinked down at him. “I thought you wanted me to do something about that.”

  “I do.” He didn’t smile, yet his expression was as relaxed as she’d ever seen it. “I wanted to see how you were this morning first.”

  She could feel herself blushing yet again. “I’m fine.”

  Lucas lifted his hands to her hair, sliding his fingers through it and pushing it back from her face, his gaze sharp. “Are you sure? I didn’t go easy on you last night.”

  Oh great. Please don’t say they were going to be having a discussion about this. “I’m sure.”

  “Are you sore? Did I hurt you?”

  “No. Like I said, I’m fine.”

  Yet his blond
brows drew down as if the answer didn’t please him for some reason. “You’re not fine. Talk to me, Grace.”

  Talking, wonderful.

  She let out a breath. “Do we have to do this right now? It certainly seems like you don’t.” She gave her hips a little wiggle for good measure.

  He didn’t react, the idiot. “I can ignore that for as long as I need to, and yes, we have to do this right now. I don’t want to hurt you, you know that. Which means I need to know you’re okay.”

  Right, so he was being a gentleman and she was being a dick and letting her own unease with this situation get in the way. She definitely didn’t want him to think that he’d hurt her.

  “I really am okay,” she said honestly, meeting his gaze. “And I’m only a little sore.”

  But that frown on his face didn’t shift. “You seemed afraid last night. Did I scare you?”

  She let out a breath. God, she did not want to get into this, because it would mean talking about Griffin and that was the last thing she wanted to talk about. But she had a feeling Lucas wasn’t going to stop pushing until he’d gotten an answer out of her.

  Hell, maybe she should be honest with him.

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “Maybe you did scare me a bit. But I’m not sure I want to discuss the reasons why now.”

  He ignored that, going straight for the jugular. “Because of Griffin, right?”

  She looked away, all her muscles going stiff. “If we’re going to talk about this, I’m really going to need some coffee.” She tried to slip off him, only for his hands to grip her hips, holding her firmly right where she was.

  “If you think I’m going to let you escape just because you’re uncomfortable, you can think again.” His voice was flat, the silver in his eyes glinting. “I know Griffin let you get away with it, but I’m not him, understand?”

  She gave Lucas a glare. She wasn’t escaping. She just … didn’t want to have this conversation. And of course she knew he wasn’t Griffin.

  But she couldn’t deny that Lucas was right. That had been a pattern she and Griffin had gotten into. He’d want to talk about something difficult and she wouldn’t, so she’d escape into her studio so she didn’t have to. And he let her.