Home > Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(23)

Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(23)
Author: Jessica Clare

He pushed forward, pinning her against the desk as he reached for the mute button again. “You’re not playing fair, Gretchen.”

“You told me to go on,” she said, tweaking her n**ples.

“Goddamn it.” His gaze was riveted on her br**sts. “I’m going to have to fight fire with fire, aren’t I?”

“I wish you would,” she breathed, excited at the prospect.

His hand on her hip moved forward, between her legs, his gaze on her in the mirror.

She arched her back, letting him know that he was heading in the right direction, and spread her legs a little wider on his lap.

“I’m a very busy man,” he said in a husky voice, the phone still on mute. “I can’t afford these distractions.”

“Of course not,” she said innocently.

His hand slipped into her panties, his fingers seeking out her wet heat. He groaned when his fingers touched her p**sy. “You’re soaked already.”

“Thinking about you gets me hot,” she said, teasing one bra strap down her shoulder. “Can’t help myself.”

Hunter’s fingers caressed her folds, exploring her. One fingertip grazed her clit, and she was unable to keep herself from crying out in response.

He jerked forward, cradling the phone against his ear, his other hand still trapped in her panties and pushing against her flesh. He released the mute button and growled into the phone, “I’m going to have to drop off the call. Someone send me the meeting minutes.”

And he hung up. The look on his face was hard and almost forbidding. “You’re derailing my plans, Gretchen.”

She kept the smile pinned to her face, though she couldn’t tell if he was furious at her or not. “You derailed mine. I kept thinking about you and couldn’t get any work done.”

And she gave one of her br**sts a squeeze just to distract him.

“Clearly you need a taste of your own medicine.” His fingers moved across her cl*t again, and she jerked in his lap, that little touch sending skitters of pleasure through her body.

“Is this your idea of punishment?” Her laugh was breathless with need.

“Actually, I just want to touch you,” he whispered in her ear. His hand moved to cover hers over her breast, and his fingers danced against her clit.

She shifted her h*ps to push him to the exact spot that would send her wild with pleasure, since his seeking fingers kept coming close but weren’t quite there. “Then touch me all you want.”

And she rolled her h*ps against him, bearing down against his cock.

He groaned, his hand tightening against her breast. His fingers began to move rapidly against her clit, stroking back and forth in slick little motions that made her breath hitch in her throat. “Gretchen, I don’t know how long I’ll last with you on my lap like this.”

“Then maybe we should get that condom on you,” she agreed breathlessly. “And then I can get back on your lap after you put it on.”

He pushed his chair backward so they were no longer pinned to his desk.

Gretchen got off his lap and produced the condom again, kneeling between his legs in front of his chair. His c*ck seemed enormous, the tent in his pants straining, and she sighed blissfully at the sight. Her hands pulled at his belt, ready to put on the condom him.

He stopped her, his hand covering hers. “I can do this. I want you to get nak*d.”

So very authoritative. She shivered, standing up and tugging at the laced waistband of her yoga pants. Gretchen pulled the knot free, then shimmied the pants down her legs, letting them drop to the ground. She’d worn her cutest pair of panties today—hot pink silk with little black bows at the hips.

They, too, went to the ground.

His belt quickly followed, and then he was dragging his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. His c*ck jutted into the air, and she licked her lips with the sight of it. A moment later, he was smoothing the condom down the length of it, and then he turned his eyes aching with need on her.

“Sit down again,” he told her, the tightness in his throat her only indication of his nerves.

She unhooked her bra and tossed it to the ground, then slid in front of him. She turned to face the desk, her bare ass presented to him. And then, slowly, Gretchen sat back down on his lap, his c*ck a hot bar of iron pressing against her backside.

“Take me inside you, Gretchen.”

She lifted her h*ps and positioned him at her entrance. When she looked in the mirror, she saw his gaze was not on her, but on the spot where their two bodies would join. He wanted to watch his c*ck sink into her. The thought was a deliciously scandalous one, and she descended slowly, moving inch by inch to take him inside her.

He groaned, his fingers clutching her h*ps tightly as she began to work him into her. “Ah, fuck,” he gritted. “You feel amazing.”

She rolled her h*ps a little, taking him deeper, but moving slowly—he was thick and exquisite and she wanted to drag this out for both his pleasure and hers. Her gaze strayed to the mirror, fascinated by the fact that she got to watch his face. The scars on the side of his face stood out white against the flush of his skin, and his face seemed full of tension.

And then she’d taken him all the way into her, her legs straddling his, her ass against his stomach.

His forehead pressed to her back and he groaned again, loudly. “Never thought I’d feel anything so good, Gretchen. Never.”

Her heart gave a little flip at the intensity in his voice. “The fun’s just starting,” she told him softly, and dug her h*ps in and rocked.

His hands clenched against her. “Ah!”

“Oh, Hunter. You’re so deep inside me. That feels unbelievable.”

“Gretchen,” he breathed raggedly.

She began to work her hips, moving slowly over him in a subtle rocking motion. She leaned forward, bracing her arms against the desk, and began to bounce her h*ps on him, controlling the depth of each stroke.

He groaned again, and her eyes flew to him in the mirror. He was contorted in something curiously close to ecstasy, the look on his face so open and raw and exposed that it made her heart hurt a little. When had she ever had a lover look at her quite like that?

Never.

“Touch me, Hunter,” she told him, continuing to work her h*ps over him. “I’ve got you. Just touch me.”

To her surprise, he pulled her back against him, until her body was flush against his chest. His hands grasped her br**sts tightly, and she cried out in pleasure when his fingers teased her n**ples, her head lolling back against his shoulder.

He kissed her neck even as he continued to roll her n**ples. The sensation was so overwhelming that she forgot to move her hips, until he thrust into her, hard. She gasped again.

“Damn,” he groaned against her ear. “I think I like you being on top, but I want to be in charge for a bit.”

“I’m all yours,” she told him in a trembling voice.

He thrust hard again, and she whimpered, his fingers playing on her tight, aching n**ples.

“Lean forward,” he told her in a voice rough with desire. “On the desk.”

Excitement pulsed through her, sending another wave of slickness through her sex. She bit her lip and tilted forward until she had her stomach pressed against the edge of the desk.

“Forward more,” he told her, rolling his chair back a few steps.

Their bodies parted, and she whimpered a protest at the loss of his c*ck deep inside her. But she leaned forward onto the cold, smooth surface of his desk, obedient.

She felt him come up behind her, and she tilted her head so she could watch them in the mirror. Hunter’s large body was positioned behind hers, and he pulled her thighs apart, stroking his fingers over her slick p**sy, as if seeking her entrance. She cried out at the touch.

Then, Hunter’s c*ck was at her entrance and he thrust, hard. Gretchen’s legs were pinned against the desk, her br**sts pressed against the wood. He drove into her again, and the motion was so hard that the entire desk shook. She cried out his name again. Each thrust was rough with need, and he slammed into her at just the right angle that she could have sworn he was brushing against her G-spot. “Hunter,” she cried. “Oh, God, keep doing that!”

His hand anchored on her shoulder, the other on her hip, and then he was slamming into her over and over again, his thrusts wild and undisciplined. She was being taken by a man out of control.

It was glorious. She’d never been f**ked so hard.

Every time he pounded into her an involuntary groan of pleasure escaped her throat. She was so close and he hadn’t even touched her clit. “Oh, God, Hunter, keep f**king me.”

“So . . . damn . . . naughty,” he told her between rough thrusts. “You’re such a f**king tease, Gretchen.”

“I am,” she moaned. “I like teasing you. You like it, too.”

He smacked her buttock in a light spank, and the crisp bite of pain mixed with pleasure was so startling that she sucked in a deep breath, her body tensing in surprise. She glanced up in the mirror and he seemed almost as surprised as her by his actions.

His hand quickly rubbed her buttock, as if soothing the smack away, and she lifted her h*ps again. “Need you, Hunter.”

He obeyed. With his next thrust, she began to come, a soft, weak cry of protest escaping her throat. So fast. She hadn’t wanted to come so fast. Ah, God, it was so incredibly good, though. Her nails dug into the wood of the table as he continued to pound into her and the orgasm wasn’t stopping. He was hitting her so hard and so rough that she just kept coming and coming, her p**sy spasming around him and it felt so incredible. She called his name over and over again. “Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!”

“I can feel you coming, Gretchen. Ah, damn it. You’re so tight on my cock. God, I love that.” He slammed in again and rocked deep, as if wanting to sink into her forever. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yes,” she moaned, still shuddering with the aftermath of her extended orgasm.

“Fuck,” he bit out one last time, and then his fingers dug into her hips, hard. She looked up in the mirror and his lips were parted, teeth bared, mouth drawn back in an exaggerated grimace made alarming by the scars on his face. If it was on anyone else, it would have been frightening to see.

But it was Hunter, and his eyes were closed with ecstasy, his shoulders heaving with his breaths, and she thought he was the most gorgeous man in the world.

He rocked into her one last time, slowly, sweetly, as if reluctant to have things end. “Ah, Gretchen,” he breathed, panting. “Ah, f**k me.”

“Again?” she teased with a shaky breath. “Give a girl a moment.”

He tugged her off the desk and collapsed back in his chair, dragging her back into his lap. His mouth began to kiss her neck. “God, that was incredible.”

“Mmmhmm, it sure was,” she said, very pleased.

His fingers slid between her legs and began to tease her clit. “I don’t want to stop touching you.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she stiffened, half wanting to drag his fingers away from her and half wanting him to never stop. “We only have the one condom, Hunter.”

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