Page 53 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession

I stop listening. He knows what I’m saying. How could he not?

I felt it in his gaze just now when he caught me staring, the inflection in his voice. There is something between us.

I literally thrive on drawing emotions out of people, and Ethan being such a fortress is all but sucking the life out of me. I decide then to do something crazy.

He’s still talking when I put my index finger in my mouth, making eye contact with him and suckling loudly. He pauses mid-sentence, watching with increasing shock and alarm, his eyes going wide as I lower my saliva-drenched finger onto his pristine glass desk and start to draw a pattern.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

“Getting your attention, what does it look like?”

“You’re such a spoiled brat!”

I say nothing but continue to draw. I can see he’s fighting for control.

I don't know why I do it. It’s childish and ludicrous, but if he doesn't give me a reaction right here, right now, I feel like I would die. I can't do this blowing hot and cold anymore.

Time to raise the stakes.

I start hacking from the back of my throat. I would never spit on his desk. But he doesn't know that.

He breaks. “Are you fucking kidding me!” he roars.

In a flash, he’s out of his chair and rounding the desk. Suddenly scared of his ferocity, I run toward the door, but I haven't gone more than a few steps when his arm effortlessly catches me around the waist, lifting me clear off the floor. In two strides, he throws me on the couch, his body following mine and pinning me down.

“Let me go! Let me go!” I scream, but his hand covers my mouth.

“Quiet! You wanted my attention, brat? You’ve had it since day one. But it’s never been enough for you, has it?” He whips off his glasses, tossing them on the coffee table. “Now you have it. All of it, Bonnie. What the fuck do you want from me?”

I can't speak. I’m too busy feeling.

He weighs a ton, and I’m pinned under all those glorious muscles. I dimly register that this position is usually a trigger for me, but instead, I want more.

His eyes, God, his eyes are breathtaking, framed with eyelashes I would hack the NSA for.

His stubble-covered, square jaw invites me to trail kisses up to his ear, and his full lips hang slightly open, his breaths fanning over my face.

Whatever he sees in my gaze turns him from cold and angry to scorching hot.

He takes his hand away from my mouth and then averts his face like he can’t bear to look at my lips.

“Bonnie. What. Do. You. Want?” His voice is husky.

My tongue feels so heavy, but I manage to whisper at last. “You."

His nostrils flare but his gaze remains averted.

"Kiss me, Ethan. Please. I’m going crazy.”

His gaze swings back. His look is feral, scary. “No.”

“No? I know you want me.” I grab his rigid erection and stroke it. He’s so thick and hard. My other hand goes to his neck,splaying over the muscles there. His skin is smooth and hot. I squeeze his twitching cock.

He groans, grabs my wandering hands, and pins them over my head. Slowly, he starts to grind against my thigh, his mouth open and breath mingling with mine.

I immediately shift under him, opening my legs wider so he’s nestled right against my core.

Oh, God, he feels so good.A moan escapes me, and I move my hips in tandem with his.