Home > Betting the Billionaire(20)

Betting the Billionaire(20)
Author: Avery Flynn

“Do you want something, honey?” Gabe’s heated breath teased her sensitive clit.

“You.” The words came out half desperate plea, half demanding order. She didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He grasped her full hips in his hands, pushed her back so her spine lay flat against the wall, and licked the silk material between her legs. “These have got to go.”

Kneeling before her like a man worshiping at the altar of desire, he pulled the delicate silk until the elastic strings snapped, leaving her naked and trembling before him. “Damn.” He muttered the raspy curse against her wet center, the feeling reverberating right through to her heart. His beard scraped against her delicate inner thighs, the perfect combination of hard and soft.

“Yes.” A current of sexual electricity shot through her, tension building with each stroke until she thought she might collapse under all the pleasure.

Gabe’s fingers slid in and out, spreading her open before him like a buffet while his flat tongue continued to take her higher and higher. He stopped, and she wanted to cry in frustration. But before she could exhale the groan, he sucked the hard nub into his warm mouth while his fingers thrust rhythmically against the bundle of nerves inside her.

Hot waves rippled up from the depths of her core, slow and steady at first and then increasing in intensity and speed. Every fiber of her being strained toward orgasm.

“Close, baby.” She pulled at his dark brown hair, pushing him deeper. “I’m so close.”

His thumb pressed just below her clit as he sucked her into his mouth.

“Gabe!” His name tore from her throat as her body constricted, and her climax roared through her like the thrum of a high-performing V-8 engine.

It took a few moments before the room around her came back into focus and she could uncurl her toes. When she could, she arched her back in a lazy, cat-like stretch, reached down to the man who’d just blown her mind, and pulled him up. “Get your clothes off before I lose my mind.”

Gabe winked. “Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, pulled out a condom, and made quick work of his T-shirt and jeans, leaving them piled in front of the doorway.

She’d thought he was hot with his clothes on. Her first sight of him completely naked and hard made her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. Tall, broad-shouldered, and all sinewy muscle from calf to pectoral, she couldn’t help herself from reaching out and tracing her way from his flat cafe-au-lait-colored nipple, down his six-pack abs, and around his thick girth.

“Come here.” She lead him by the cock over to the loveseat in the loft’s living room. Releasing him was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment but necessary for her next move. She pressed her fingertips to his shoulders and pushed.

He landed with a soft thump on the loveseat, still holding the foil square.

“That won’t do. Let me have that.” Keisha swiped the condom from his fingers and dropped to her knees. Anticipation thrummed through her as if she hadn’t just had a body-melting orgasm, but she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she buried himself deep inside her. Her need for him went beyond physical to something she wasn’t yet ready to define. Unwilling to wait any long, she ripped the package open and unrolled the latex down his thickness, relishing the blissed-out agony of his moan as she did so. “Do you want me?”

Her heart hiccupped as she realized his answer mattered. Really mattered.

Gabe leaned forward and pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger, rolling the needy nub and pulling it with just the right about of pressure. “Only since you first told me to take my money and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I’m all heart.”

Whatever he was about to say next died on his lips as she sheathed his hard cock inside her.

Gabe’s large hands held her ass, rocking her hips forward, and she lowered herself to meet his thrusts again and again. She arched her back, bending like a bow, pleasure making her quiver. Moving one hand from his knee, she reached around and cupped his balls, squeezing lightly, his appreciative moan sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

Just when she thought she’d gone as high as she could go, Gabe slid his hand around and his fingers circled her clit. “I want to feel you climax while I’m fucking you.”

His words coupled with the magic of his fingers and dick had her tossing her head back in pleasure. The world exploded around her again, and her hips rocketed forward, coming down hard on him as her orgasm ripped through her. A few thrusts later, his orgasm followed.

They sat there for a few minutes with her legs wrapped around his narrow waist and his head resting on her shoulder, both of them trying to regain their hold on reality.

“Tell me you got the offer for the job in Harbor City.” His words tickled her still sensitive skin, causing an army of goose bumps to stand at attention.

“I did.” Like a well-satisfied cat, she stretched against him, her breasts pressed against his hard chest.

He relaxed against the back of the loveseat, pulling her with him so that she covered him and her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. “Please say you said yes.”

She grinned, his interest setting off a flock of hummingbirds in her stomach. “Right before I came here today.”

“Thank God.” He whispered the words against her hair as his breathing steadied.

She planted a palm on the couch and pushed up to look into his half-closed eyes. “Why, are we finished tonight already?”

He grinned and gave her ass a playful slap. “Oh, honey, this is far from over.”

Chapter Eleven

Happy chaos ruled at the Beauchamp’s new house. Most of Salvation had squeezed into the three-bedroom bungalow, eating finger food from The Kitchen Sink in front of a giant Welcome Home banner hanging from the ceiling. The cold, winter breeze wafted in through the open windows, minimizing the body heat from the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, and the fresh paint fumes lingered throughout the house. Keisha took a sip of coffee, peeking over the edge of her cup in search of Gabe. They’d come over to the house together in his Aston Martin—he’d even let her drive—but he’d disappeared to the front porch to take a phone call.

“You did good, Baby Girl.” Her dad shuffled over to her side, a paper plate starting to give under the weight of deep fried goodness in one hand and the other hand gripping his cane.

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