Page 138 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
“Unless you’d like a quick shower.” He cocks his head toward the adjoining bathroom. “Specifically one where you have your back against the cold tiles, the warm spray on your breasts, and my tongue deep inside you.”
“Well, twist my arm, Harvard.”
“Now you’re just begging for another spanking,” he laughs.
He pulls out of me, then drags me to my feet. I take a step and stumble before he catches me in his arms, sporting a satisfied smirk. I know he’s going to fuck me again in the shower. And I’ll let him. Beg for it, actually, even though it's clear to me that I might not be able to walk right tomorrow.
Chapter 39
Ethan
I’m at my desktopin my home office working on some security updates when Bonnie pops her head through the door. I steel myself against the rush of desire I feel at seeing her in my shirt.
We’ve been ravenous for each other since she showed up in my office, right until she fell asleep four hours ago. I napped for a couple of hours, then I dragged myself out of bed to do some work instead, so she could get some much-needed sleep. If I stayed in that bed, I’d still be inside her tight warmth right now. My cock twitches pleasurably.Here we go again.
“Baby, you’re up already?”
“I missed you.” She leans against the doorway, bends her knee, trailing her toe up her opposite calf.
I huff out a chuckle. Geez, I’ve fucked her half to death already, and she still wants more. Must be the pregnancy hormones.
“How far along are you?” Jordan confessed to me months ago about almost getting friction burns on his cock, and I’d told him to shut up with his whining. God help me with Bonnie.
“About ten weeks.” I’m not sure what that means in terms of libido or my balls falling off, but I’m ready to ride it out for however long.
“You need to sleep,” I tell her.
“I’m usually awake after midnight now. I think it’s the hormones.” She walks in. “What are you working on? Something new?”
She walks towards me, her gait halting, and I hide my smirk of masculine satisfaction and instead focus on the inevitable conversation. Even though what I’m working on is top secret, I don’t make a move to hide it. It's time to tell her.
“Is it Acercraft?”
“No, it’s for a client of mine,” I answer.
Her eyes go as round as saucers. “You have other clients! Jordan said I couldn’t do that.”
“Yes, well, you're his employee. I’m not.”
“So unfair!” she complains. “Anyway, what are you working on?”
I shove back my chair to give her space to see for herself.
She moves my keyboard away and sits on the gleaming table, cocking her head to peer at the screen.
I dimly register that I should be irritated. Her panties are new, from the collection I got her since I’m in the habit of tearing hers off her. She must have pulled them on when she got out of bed, but I know for a fact they’re soaking wet now. Because she’s got to be dripping my cum, possibly smearing it on my desk.
But I couldn’t care less because all I can think of is how lovely the black lace looks against her creamy skin and the smooth curve of her thigh.
Huh.
I might as well go ahead and christen every single surface with her while I’m at it.
She looks back at me, puzzled. “What is this, babe?” I direct my attention back to the screen, then give her time to take it in.
"Why is this on Tor?" She asks, referring to the router that makes my internet presence and activities impossible to track.
I watch her for a long time. “Because what I’m doing for and with my client is top secret.”