Enraptured: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  Duh!

  He’d told me it had been over four years since he’d had sex with a woman. And I wasn’t just any woman; I was his employee. He probably feared a lawsuit. Especially in these weird times we lived in, where a guy could be sued for harassment for merely chatting a girl up in a bar.

  It was up to me to take the lead. At least until we got the first time out of the way.

  I curved one hand around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. With my other, I gripped his erection, wrapped my legs around his waist, and coaxed him inside.

  “I’ve got you,” I murmured.

  A deep groan eased from his chest, and he thrust his hips, pushing all the way in. “Fuck, Harlow,” he moaned. “Fuck, you feel good.”

  He pressed his lips to my neck, his breath hot against my skin, muttering unintelligible words, but whatever he said didn’t matter. I could hear the raw pleasure through the rumble in his chest, the way he gasped when I clenched my muscles around him. I flexed my hips, driving him deeper, taking him all the way in.

  “Tonight is for you, too,” I said, replaying his earlier words to me.

  He rolled back on his heels and lifted me until we were face-to-face, front-to-front. “Come here. I want to be closer to you.”

  He folded a strong arm around my waist, and his hand palmed my breast, his thumb brushing the stiff peak of my nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure sprinting down my spine. He rocked into me, using his thighs to power him on. First times were weird. You never knew what it would be like. Most were huge disappointments, the anticipation of greatness often far outweighing the bruising reality. Usually good sex took a lot of practice, full of false starts and too-quick orgasms.

  Not this time.

  Not with Oliver.

  The familiar wave of a pending climax built in my stomach. Too soon. Not yet. I didn’t want this to be over yet. If I came, something told me Oliver wouldn’t be far behind.

  I cut off the visuals—Oliver looked too damn sexy—and shifted my weight slightly, which stopped my clit from rubbing against him.

  Better.

  “Look at me,” he whispered.

  So much for cutting off visuals.

  My eyelids fluttered open.

  He smiled, his gaze steady. “You’re everything I dreamed and more, Harlow.”

  I didn’t get to give a response before he bent his head and kissed me. His tongue slipped past my lips, stroking mine, while his erection slid in and out, massaging my insides, intensifying the ache rising within me. He increased his pace. Our bodies slapped together, and sweat trickled between my breasts. I wouldn’t last much—

  “Ohhhh shit,” I expelled, my body detonating into pieces, slicing through my attempt at control with ease. I dug my nails into his shoulders, wishing this moment could last forever. We’d only ever have one first, but fuck me, what a first.

  “So close,” Oliver muttered. He thrust twice more, then stilled, his breath pushed out on a soft groan. “Jesus, Harlow. Jesus Christ.”

  We stayed in the same position, arms around each other, unwilling to break the connection, for what felt like minutes. He trailed his lips over my shoulder, soft, awed kisses, full of gratitude.

  “That was…” He drew back wearing that beautiful smile I’d never tire of. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  18

  Oliver

  “Wait there.”

  I threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Removing the condom, I knotted the end, wrapped it in tissue, and threw it away. I picked up my boxers then, remembering Annie wasn’t home, discarded them and crossed the room.

  “Where are you going?” Harlow asked, rolling onto her side and slipping her hands beneath her head.

  My heart panged as I looked at her. She belonged here. Right here, in my bed, in my home, in my life. I returned to her, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. “You’ll see.”

  “Hang on,” Harlow said as I turned away. “Don’t move.”

  Pausing mid-step, I glanced over my shoulder. “Why?”

  She grinned. “I like the view. You’ve got a great ass.”

  A lightness filled my chest, and I returned her smile with one of my own. “Back in two minutes.”

  I jogged downstairs and into the kitchen. Opening the box of cheesecakes, I peered inside. They’d survived the journey intact. I hoped Harlow was still hungry. I wanted a replay of her eating this dessert. I grabbed two plates, setting a slice of cheesecake on each one. I snatched a couple of forks and returned upstairs.

  Nudging the door open with my hip, I entered my bedroom to find Harlow mid-stretch, her back arched, her gorgeous tits thrust upward, the nipples begging for my tongue. She made this satisfying keening sound that my cock approved of, given how quickly I hardened.

  “You brought the cheesecake.” She shuffled to a seated position and held out her hand for one of the plates. Her eyes drifted to my groin. “I see you brought me two gifts.” She tapped her fingertip against her lips. “Now, which one should I eat first?”

  I groaned. Setting my plate on my nightstand, I crawled into bed beside her. “I’m a man. There’s only one answer to that question.”

  She inclined her head. “You’re right. Cheesecake it is.”

  With an impish grin, she dug in. Her expression as she took the first bite almost brought me to orgasm. She’d given me a repeat performance all right, except this time, I didn’t have to hold back.

  I trailed my fingertips over her abdomen, creeping downward to the dampness between her legs. Gliding one finger inside, I bent my head and sucked on her nipple.

  She gasped and widened her legs, giving me easier access. “Aren’t you eating your dessert?”

  Her nipple popped out of my mouth. I laved it with my tongue and glanced up at her. “You taste better than any cake.”

  She set down her half-finished cheesecake and threaded her fingers into my hair. “I’ll finish that later. Or maybe I’ll spread it over your cock and finish it that way.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I muttered against her breast, my eyes closing, my imagination running riot. “Yes, please.”

  She pushed at my shoulders and flipped me onto my back, then straddled my legs. She leaned over to grab the plate. Her breasts brushed against my face, and I took the opportunity to flick out my tongue and taste her.

  Returning to her previous position, this time holding the remnants of her cheesecake, she forked off a slice and held it out to me. I closed my lips over the prongs, getting my first bite. “That is good.”

  She looked at the remains of her slice, then at my cock, then over at my untouched piece on my nightstand. “I might need to borrow some of yours. You’re not exactly small.”

  My chest puffed out. Every guy wanted the woman they were in bed with to think they were well-endowed. Harlow didn’t disappoint on that score.

  “It’s yours,” I said. “And if this is what you’re going to do with it, I’ll arrange for a regular delivery.”

  She set the fork to one side and dipped her finger into the creamy delight, then spread it over the head of my cock. It jerked in approval. She did it again, and then a third time, until the entire head was covered in pink cheesecake.

  “Suck,” she said, pressing her finger to my lips.

  I obeyed, briefly acknowledging that this was the most erotic moment of my life. Sara had been my first, and although we’d fucked a lot in our college days, she hadn’t been into experimentation. The women I’d torn through when Sara left in an attempt to get over her had provided nothing more than one- or two-night distractions. A release of pent-up frustration that had fleetingly allowed me to forget, only to wake up the next morning with a head full of regrets and a heavy guilt that, somehow, I’d cheated on my wife, even though she was the one who’d walked out on me and Annie.

  With Harlow, I knew there wouldn’t be a second of regret.

  Keeping her eyes on mine, she licked around the head, her hand enveloping the base of my cock, firmly, confidentl
y. She squeezed, not too hard but enough to garner a hiss of exhilaration.

  And then she took me all the way in.

  I fisted the sheets as she sucked, her cheeks hollowing, her throat working me, moans of enthusiasm tightening my balls. Christ, at this rate, I’d come in thirty seconds, and how lame would that appear?

  I tried to think of other things to distract me from the feel of my cock in Harlow’s mouth. Work, stocks and shares, that fancy new car I had my eye on.

  Nothing worked.

  “Shit, I’m coming,” I gritted out, attempting to move away. Emptying my load in her mouth required a discussion we hadn’t undertaken.

  She tightened her grip and sucked harder.

  I lost it.

  Semen shot from the head of my cock, right down her throat.

  And she swallowed.

  Women never swallowed. At least the ones I’d been with hadn’t.

  I wrapped my hand around the back of her head and stroked, wanting to convey my gratitude but unable to speak yet. When I recovered, I cupped her chin until our eyes met.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.” She reached out and dipped her finger into the remains of the cheesecake, slipping the digit into her mouth, then she snuggled into my side where she rested her head on my chest and her palm on my stomach. “I told you tonight wasn’t just for me. It was for us.”

  “Don’t go,” I blurted.

  She looked up at me, confusion written in the creases around her mouth and the lowering of her brows. “I wasn’t planning to go anywhere, unless you’d rather sleep alone.”

  “I’m not talking about tonight.” I squeezed her tight. “I mean… don’t go. When Mom comes back, I want you to stay.” I shifted my position until we were eye to eye. “To stay with me.”

  Her lips parted, and she stroked my face. I leaned into her touch, craving more.

  “Oliver, I’d advise you to not make decisions right after a blow job,” she said, the beginnings of a teasing grin lifting her lips at the side.

  I didn’t return her smile. Instead, I pushed as much sincerity into my expression and my voice as I could. “I mean every word. I don’t know about you, but this feels… right. Neither of us knows what this might turn into, but I’d like a chance to find out. Wouldn’t you?”

  She gazed at me, her eyes flitting across my face, looking for… oh, I don’t know… hesitation or uncertainty, maybe. She could search all she liked. She’d only find commitment and determination.

  “What about Annie?”

  I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What about her? She adores you, Harlow. Nothing’s changed on that score, at least not for me. I’d still like you to take care of my daughter, be there for her. The only difference is…” I grinned. “I’d like you to take care of me, too. Just not in the same way, obviously.”

  “And there’s Sara to consider, too.”

  My eyes narrowed. “There is no consideration needed regarding Sara. She’s my ex-wife and a woman I haven’t seen in six years. She’s the past. You’re the future.”

  She shook her head. “It all feels too soon to make a promise you might not want to keep in a week, a month, two months. And whatever you might say, I know Sara left scars that one night with me can’t hope to heal.”

  She had a point. The damage Sara had done to me when she’d left ran deep, hence I’d hardly dated in years. But this time felt different, was different. I would have to find a way to convince Harlow.

  “You’re saying no?” I asked.

  She cupped my face, the pad of her thumb brushing along my jaw. “I’m saying I want to explore whatever this is. I want to get to know you as your equal. But I think we should take it one day at a time. Wait until I’ve left my underwear scattered all over your bedroom floor for the eleventy-billionth time and then see if you feel the same,” she said, joking and trying to lighten the mood.

  It worked. I smiled broadly. “Scatter away. My space is your space.”

  “Let’s revisit that comment in a couple of weeks.”

  I tucked her into my side and kissed the top of her head. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I get to wake up beside you.”

  19

  Harlow

  I rapidly blinked, trying to clear my vision and the grogginess from one of the deepest sleeps I’d had in a while. As the space around me came into focus, I frowned, confused.

  This isn’t my room.

  And then my memory returned with an almighty crash.

  Oliver.

  Me and Oliver.

  Me and Oliver fucking.

  A lot.

  Cheesecake.

  Oh God.

  I spread raspberry cheesecake on his dick and sucked it off.

  Covering my face with my hands, I peeked through a gap in my fingers and turned my head to the side.

  The bed beside me lay empty.

  I placed my hand on the mattress. Warm. Which meant it had been occupied not that long ago.

  And then the sound of running water coming from the bathroom reached me. I pulled the covers up to my chin, which felt a bit like locking the stable door after the horse had bolted. Oliver had seen me in all my naked glory. Too late to act coy now.

  I hadn’t even drunk very much wine at dinner last night—or had I? Whatever had taken place, hiding behind an excuse of “sorry, too much booze” wouldn’t wash.

  But there was something about waking up in my boss’s bed with the cold light of day shining a beacon on my behavior that made me want to burrow beneath the covers and never show my face again.

  The bathroom door opened.

  “You’re awake,” Oliver said, his face softening. “How did you sleep?”

  I slid my gaze over his naked form, my earlier embarrassment beating a hasty retreat when faced with a body carved of stone and a cock on the rise. Yeah, my memory hadn’t let me down. The boss had muscles I wanted to lick.

  Okay, stop thinking of him as ‘The Boss’. It’s just creepy. You’ve had his dick in your mouth, in your pussy. He’s sucked on your tits and given you head. No more boss-type shit, okay?

  “Harlow?” Oliver’s brows mashed together. “Is everything all right?”

  I pulled my head out of my ass—not literally, obviously—and, riddled with doubt, I forced a smile. “Yeah… I mean, um… All’s good.”

  Folding back the covers, he slipped into bed. He reached for my hand and linked our fingers together. “A little weirded out, huh? If it helps, so am I.”

  Relief rushed through me, and the smile I offered this time was real. “Oh, thank god. I started to think I was losing my mind. I mean, last night was great. Better than great. Awesome. But it’s you, and it’s me, and I’m your employee, and you’re my employer, and there’s Annie and…” I clasped a hand to my chest. “Okay, I think I’m hyperventilating.”

  Oliver chuckled. “You are seriously the hottest woman. Ever. I love your honesty.”

  He released my hand, slipped his arm around my waist, and tugged me on top of him where, yeah, I could feel his dick pressing against my center. As my body flooded with warmth, my instincts took over, and I rocked against him.

  “Please tell me it’s okay,” I whispered.

  He cradled my face, his eyes soft and holding so much emotion, my skin flushed as if I’d spent the last hour standing in front of a heat lamp.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, leaning up to brush his lips over mine.

  I maneuvered myself until the head of his cock pressed against me, but before I could sink down onto that delicious length, he paused.

  “Condom,” he said.

  I wanted to tell him “fuck it”. Insist we didn’t need a condom because I was clean and on the pill, and before last night, he hadn’t had sex in forever. But Oliver struck me as the decent kind, and I wanted to honor him.

  “Then move that fine ass, Oliver Ellis. It’s mean to leave a girl hanging
.”

  “Here, let me do it,” I said, plucking the bowl out of Oliver’s hands. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll have pancake batter all over the ceiling.”

  Oliver grinned and allowed me to take over without making a fuss. He put some coffee on, then sidled up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His chin rested on my shoulder.

  “What do we tell Annie?” I mused as I beat the creamy mixture.

  “Nothing,” Oliver said. “She’s a smart kid. She’ll figure it out.”

  He kissed my neck, then moved on to my shoulder.

  I shivered, my skin pebbled in goose bumps. “She’ll have questions.”

  “And we’ll answer them. Honestly. But I don’t see the need to make a big thing of this. Annie absolutely adores you. She knows we’re dating.”

  I set down the bowl and turned in his arms. “Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”

  He tongued his teeth and had a good peek down my top where an inch of cleavage showed. “Yes, we’re dating. And fucking. I’ll leave off the latter for Annie’s benefit, though.”

  I struck his shoulder with my palm. “Oliver! I’m being serious.”

  “So am I.”

  He took my mouth in a searing kiss that left me tingly all over. When he withdrew, he hit me with a wicked smile. “I wonder if there’s enough time for me to bend you over my dining table and—”

  “Daddy!”

  Annie sprinted across the living room and threw herself into Oliver’s arms. After she’d thoroughly hugged him, it was my turn for an Annie special. Wrapping her in my arms, I still hoped she couldn’t sense a shift in atmosphere, despite Oliver’s nonchalance about the change in our relationship status. Kids were hellishly in tune with their environments, and while she wouldn’t understand the sexual politics underlying the furtive glances between me and Oliver, I worried the change in circumstance would unsettle her.

  “Next time,” Oliver murmured in my ear before he smiled at Sinead, the mother of Annie’s best friend, Cara, and said, “Thanks for looking after her.”

  “You’re welcome. The girls had a wonderful night. We’d be more than happy to have her over anytime.”