Romancing the Billionaire (Page 49)

Romancing the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #5)(49)
Author: Jessica Clare

He wanted to palm her other breast and work it even as his mouth worked the first, but he needed the hand to prop himself up on the bed. For a moment, he cursed his “great” idea of tying her hands up. He wanted nothing more than for Violet to touch him, to show that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Christ, he was dying for her touch on his skin.

As she wiggled underneath him and moaned, again he regretted his idea. He wanted Violet wild and writhing in his arms, fully participating. She was helpless while tied down to the bed—

Then an idea hit.

He pulled his mouth from her nipple, pleased with her murmur of protest. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Violet.”

Her gaze was unfocused, passion-glazed. “W-what . . . ?”

He leaned down and kissed her breast. “Do you like my mouth here?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Then tell me where you want it next.”

She stared at him for a long moment, as if incredulous that he was going to make her take the driver’s seat. Then, she flung her head back and groaned. “Can’t you just . . . wing it? You’re doing great so far.”

“I want you to lead me,” he told her. “This is about your pleasure. You tell me where you want it, and I’ll put my mouth there.”

She sucked in a breath at that, but was silent.

Was Violet . . . shy about asking for what she wanted in bed? He tried to remember, but his memories were of equal partners, of greedy hands and passionate kisses stolen after long days at the dig. But now, Violet had gone silent.

He rested his chin on her soft, lovely skin and waited.

She shifted. “You . . . you’re really going to make me say it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m not as thin or as pretty as I was when I was younger. I’m not . . . exciting.” She bit her lip. “I grew up and got boring and dowdy.”

Was she insane?

“And I was fine with that until I saw you and you turned all breathtakingly gorgeous, and now I feel like . . . well.” She sighed. “I feel like I’m not holding up my end.”

“You’re mad,” he said, leaning down and licking one pert nipple. “I see no flaws when I look at you. Nothing but lush skin and delicious curves just begging to be tasted.”

“That’s kind of you,” she said with a small, nervous smile.

“I’m not being kind, Violet.” He tongued her nipple again. “Being kind would have nothing to do with taking you into my bed. I desire you. I want you more fiercely now than I did in the past. My c**k aches to be buried deep inside you once again. And I want you. The you with the short hair and the mistrust in your eyes, because that’s the woman I loved once and still love. The things I loved about you—your sharp wit, your sharper tongue, your smile—none of those have changed. You’re still the same woman I fell in love with ten years ago, and the same woman I fell in love with all over again yesterday and the day before.”

She seemed to tremble underneath him. “Why is it that the poetry sounds sweet, but your words sound even sweeter?”

“Because you know they come from my soul,” he told her, and kissed between her br**sts. “And you know I want to pleasure you more than anything else in the world. You know that, right?”

He felt her tremble again, and when she was silent, he looked up.

She gave a jerky nod.

“Then . . . tell me what you want.”

TWELVE

Oh, sure. He made it sound so easy. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Violet. Great words in theory, but now that she was in bed with Jonathan, naked, and he was all glorious and tanned and she was not? It wasn’t quite so easy to spit out things like I want your face between my thighs or I want your c**k deep inside me.

All Violet could see were her pasty-pale thighs against his sun-browned skin, her soft curves against his hard muscles. One of them had been working out in the last ten years and it wasn’t her.

She had no idea why she was so fidgety. He’d seduced her on the plane and she’d been a little anxious, but not wildly nervous like this. He’d gone down on her and had made her feel beautiful. So why was she trembling like a schoolgirl at the thought of demanding that he do the same now?

Because the stakes were different.

Because now her heart was fully committed, and she didn’t want him to be disappointed in her. Because for the last week, she’d been wondering if he’d been repulsed by touching her, and it had made her question her own desirability.

Violet didn’t think she was disgusting, of course. She was just shorter and a little curvier than most. The problem was that she wasn’t the same long-haired wild child she’d been when he’d known her.

She didn’t want him to be disappointed, because she wasn’t disappointed in him at all. If anything, she loved the changes in his body.

So she licked her lips and tried to push her nervousness away. He was gazing up at her with those intense eyes, that full-on stare that told her she was the center of his universe, and nothing else mattered. It was hard to speak up under that intense scrutiny. To say lewd, dirty things about what she wanted.

“Tell me,” Jonathan murmured, and leaned down to tongue her nipple again.

She gasped, arching her back so she could thrust her breast against his mouth. “But you’re doing so well on your own.”

“I want more, though. I want to make you wrung out and limp from pleasure.”

“You’re already on your way there,” she protested.

That heat was back in his eyes. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“I . . . I want more kisses.” God, she was such a coward.

One eyebrow raised, and just that small gesture made her wetter. “Anywhere in particular?”

She sucked in a breath. “My mouth?”

He crawled over her again, and Violet strained at the ties on her hands. His big body covering hers was sinfully delicious. She liked that he was almost a foot taller than her, liked that when he prowled on top of her, he could cover her entirely. It made her feel dainty and delicate in a way most men didn’t.

Jonathan braced his hands at her sides and gave her a slow, sultry smile before he leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against hers. As he did, his c**k brushed against her sex, and she realized he’d dropped his knees so his erection would rub against her sensitive flesh with every touch of his mouth against hers.

Violet moaned.

When her mouth fell open, Jonathan’s tongue slicked inside and he began to slowly, sensuously kiss her. Soft, licking kisses that seemed to take all the time in the world to explore her mouth, to savor her taste. She was entranced by those kisses, drugged by their sweetness. And with every flick of his tongue, he’d give a little thrust of his hips, grinding his c**k against her folds. Folds that were already slick with need and aching for a touch.