The Undercover Billionaire Page 17

  She groaned. He felt so good. Hard and perfect. Invulnerable. Like rock, like a mountain, as if he would be there forever. Nothing wearing him away, nothing wearing him down. A constant, enduring presence who would never leave.

  The harsh sound of someone’s breathing filled the confined space of the cabin. Hers. But she didn’t care about that either. Desperate to touch even more of him, she ripped his shirt from his massive shoulders, jerking it down his arms and away from him.

  He didn’t move as she spread her hands on his bare chest, stroking and touching, pressing kisses to his throat and down further, licking the salty heat of his skin.

  Her heart was raging and her own skin felt too tight. She was so desperate she didn’t know what to do. She pressed herself against his hard body, the chain of his dog tags cool against her fingertips as she explored the sculpted muscle of his chest, tracing the ink of his eagle and trident.

  It wasn’t enough. But she didn’t know how to ask for more. And he was standing so still. As if her touching him had no effect whatsoever.

  Tipping her head back, she looked up at him, fear curling in her heart.

  But it wasn’t indifference that glowed in those beautiful eyes of his. It was heat. And it set her on fire.

  “What do you want?” The words were guttural.

  “You,” she said raggedly, because there was no point in pretending otherwise, not even to protect herself. “Now.”

  He didn’t hesitate, gripping her hips and walking her back until the edge of the bed was against the backs of her knees. Then she was down on the mattress and he was with her.

  Excitement took her by the throat as his big body surrounded her, and she expected to be pulled beneath him. Instead he rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she found herself straddling his lean hips. Exactly the way she’d been sitting that morning in the hotel.

  “You wanna drive, baby?” The words were full of rough, lazy heat. Yet the hunger in his eyes was anything but lazy. “Take me out for a spin?”

  Lying back there, shirtless, all powerful muscle, tanned skin, and ink, he was so hot she couldn’t think. Couldn’t even speak. All she could do was nod.

  His mouth curled and he lifted his hands to the fabric of her dress, beginning to slide the hem up her legs, holding her gaze with his as he did so.

  He went slowly, making her shudder as his hot palms brushed over the bare skin of her thighs. Oh God, he was so hot she was going to have to check herself for scorch marks later.

  She tried to breathe normally, but it was impossible. Not when every nerve ending she had was achingly aware of his hot palms on her skin. Aware too of the raw heat and power of his body beneath her, and the hard length that was pressing insistently against the inside of her thigh.

  There was no mistaking that. He wanted her. He was hard for her. And men couldn’t lie, not about that.

  She felt dizzy looking down at him as he drew the hem of her dress up to her hips, his gaze dropping down between her thighs. “Wolf…” Her voice was shaking and she didn’t know what she was asking for. Maybe just to say his name.

  This was happening. This was real. And she didn’t know if she could handle it.

  “It’s okay.” His eyes gleamed from beneath long, black lashes. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Liv.” Then he pushed all the fabric of her dress to the side, his finger drawing a slow, hot line right down the center of her sex, tracing her through her panties.

  She gasped, the gasp turning into another groan as he stroked his finger back up, lingering to circle her clit, before tracing another line back down again.

  No one had touched her like this before. She’d never even touched herself like this before. It made her feel as if she’d been plugged into a power socket, electricity surging through her veins, pleasure lighting her up. He stroked her again, then once more, and she shook, her breathing starting to get faster, harsher.

  “You like that?” His voice was rough velvet and heat.

  “Y-Yes. God…” His finger circled her clit through the fabric of her panties again, lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. And the pleasure it gave her was … indescribable. It made her restless and needy. It made her ache.

  She shifted against his hand, wanting him to touch her with more pressure. “Wolf … please…”

  “Impatient, huh?” He gave her another long, slow stroke that left her gasping, then his hand dropped away. “Hang on.” Without moving position, he reached over to a drawer inset in the smooth wood that made up the headboard and pulled it open, taking something out of it.

  She watched him, dazed, her hands in fists, her nails digging into her palms because she didn’t know what else to do with them. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d never thought about this moment, or let herself imagine it, and now it was happening. Now it was real.

  Wolf had taken out a condom and soon he would be inside her.

  She couldn’t handle it, the thought overwhelming. Yet she couldn’t move either. Something was holding her there, making her watch as he unzipped his jeans and reached down beneath the fabric, his fingers curling around something long and thick and hard.

  Her breath caught, a shiver moving over her skin.

  If you’re going to leave, leave.

  But then it was too late, because he was drawing out his cock and she couldn’t look away. And she’d been right about the long and the thick and the hard. He was all that and probably more.

  Her heartbeat was deafening as he ripped open the packet and took out the condom, rolling the latex down with a lazy, practiced motion that she somehow found unbearably erotic.

  Then he reached for her, those big, warm palms settling on her hips, drawing her up his body a little.

  She was shaking, her mind struggling to process what was happening.

  He reached to pull aside the fabric of her panties, keeping his gaze on hers as he stroked lightly through the slick folds of her sex, drawing a gasp of agonized pleasure from her. Then he did it again, grazing her clit with the pad of one finger, making her toes curl and sending a shudder through her.

  “You look scared.” The words were soft and gravelly, the intensity of his gaze inescapable. “Are you sure you want this?”

  She couldn’t speak. The slow, firm pressure of his finger on her clit seemed to drag all the air from her lungs and all the words from her head.

  No she wasn’t sure, at least not emotionally. But her body was desperate. Her body had waited years for this moment, and now that it was here, it didn’t want to be denied.

  She gave him a jerky nod.

  Emerald and sapphire flared in his gaze, a flash of heat that scorched her soul. Then his fingers were parting her wet flesh and the head of his cock was pressing against her entrance, spreading her open, stretching her.

  She made a helpless, inarticulate sound, shuddering as he pressed harder against her. His hands gripped her tighter, tilting her hips, and then she was sliding down onto him, and it hurt enough to make her cry out, her vision blurring with sudden tears.

  He didn’t move. “Breathe,” he murmured. “Breathe, baby. It’ll be okay. Only lasts a second, I promise.” His hands shifted from her hips to her thighs, stroking up and down, a calming, soothing motion.

  She stared down at him, shivering all over. She felt stretched apart, invaded. Impaled. He was there, inside her. So hard and hot, filling her up so completely she couldn’t even breathe, no matter how many times he told her to.

  “I can’t…” Was that her voice? All cracked and broken? “I can’t, Wolf…”

  “Yes, you can.” His palms were on her hips again, settling her down on him, and unbelievably, the pain and the full feeling began to fade, leaving behind it a maddening, aching pressure.

  She sucked in a ragged breath and found him watching her, unmistakable hunger in his eyes. “You wanna move?”

  And she did. Oh God, she really did. “Yes,” she croaked. “But how?”

  His m
outh curved in a smile that made her heart slam hard against her breastbone. “Let me show you.” His hands tightened on her hips, guiding her, moving her in a slow, undulating motion, up and down.

  It felt weird at first, but pretty soon there was nothing weird about it. No, it was the opposite. It felt right, natural, and the way his cock slid in and out of her, the friction of it, was incredible. She couldn’t stop staring at him, at his long, hard body stretched out underneath her, at the play of his muscles, tensing and relaxing as she moved on him. A big, powerful, dangerous animal and she was in control. She was riding him.

  His eyes gleaming hot through his lashes, the lines of his face drawn tight with hunger. With lust. He wasn’t immobile now and he definitely wasn’t indifferent, and she was the one who had done this to him.

  It was so unbelievably sexy to realize that at last, at last, she wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

  “Does that feel good?” His drawl was ragged round the edges, threaded through with heat. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.” Her own voice didn’t sound much better. “Yes … God … so good.”

  His gaze dropped down to where they were joined, lingering there, the glow in his eyes flaring. “Yeah, so do I…”

  The pressure inside her was building, the pull of the pleasure becoming stronger, deeper. But it wasn’t enough—she wanted more. She wanted faster. Harder. Putting her hands flat on his chest, her fingers spreading out to touch as much of his hot skin as she could, she leaned forward, shifting her hips, trying to intensify the angle.

  His gaze flicked back up to hers and she was caught by the beauty of the jewel-bright colors once again. So different. So special. Just like him.

  She shifted again, pressing herself down harder on him, and he hissed.

  “Fuck, yes…” His mouth twisted in a snarl. “Do it again. Fucking ride me, baby. Harder.”

  She was desperate to, but she’d never done this before and couldn’t find the rhythm, so he showed her again. Holding her tight, lifting her up on him and slamming her back down, over and over.

  The pressure inside her rose to intolerable levels. She was shaking, trembling all over, and suddenly terrified for reasons she didn’t understand. Her fingers dug into the hard muscle and warm skin of his chest, desperate to hold onto him, to anything that would keep her grounded, because when this pressure blew, she didn’t know what would happen.

  She kept saying his name over and over, and somehow he must have understood her wordless panic. Because the next time he brought her down hard on him, he held her there and rolled, and she found herself on her back beneath him, his huge, rock-hard body over hers, covering her. Surrounding her completely.

  Driving into her deep, his fingers between her thighs, stroking her clit as he thrust, and that aching, intolerable pressure finally burst apart, shattering her.

  She screamed, scratching her nails heedlessly down his back before digging into the heavy, dense muscle of his shoulders, feeling herself coming apart beneath him. Only dimly aware of his rhythm getting faster, wilder, out of control.

  Then he stiffened, turning his head against her neck, and groaned. “Oh, fuck, Olivia…” All four syllables, harsh and desperate. Her name in his mouth the way she’d never heard it before.

  She lay there beneath him, trembling with the aftershocks as this big, powerful man came apart just as she had not seconds earlier. And she held onto him as the shudders rocked him, feeling like she’d been torn apart and then put back together in a way that was unfamiliar. Too new and strange to take in.

  Wolf Tate, the man she’d been in love with since she’d been fifteen years old, had taken her virginity and it was too much.

  Everything was too much.

  Olivia closed her eyes and burst into tears.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wolf heard her sob, half muffled against his shoulder, and felt the shudder that went through her small body tucked up under his. A lot of chicks cried after sex, especially when the sex had been mind-blowing, and it had never bothered him before. He simply held them and stroked them until whatever emotional storm had passed.

  But the sound of Olivia’s sobs hit him in a completely different way.

  He didn’t like the sound, for a start. It made his chest feel tight, made him think about whether he’d made a mistake, that he shouldn’t have given her what she wanted after all.

  It made him feel like he’d hurt her—and that thought, in turn, hurt him.

  He shifted his body so he wasn’t lying directly on top her, because she was very small and he wasn’t. Then he did what he normally did and kept his arms around her, tucking her head beneath his chin, stroking the long silky brown strands of her hair.

  She gave another sob, burrowing into his neck, and began to cry in earnest, her breath warm and damp against his bare skin.

  Wolf stared up at the low wooden ceiling, at the long bar of afternoon sunlight that came through the porthole and stretched over the wood. The familiar movement of the boat at the dock was soothing. Olivia weeping, not so much.

  Fuck, had he made a mistake? Had he taken what he shouldn’t have?

  He’d had no idea what had set her off, what had made her get up from the table and head straight for the bedroom. She’d clearly been trying to get off the boat, which he couldn’t allow, not when her father would no doubt by now be mobilizing his forces to find her.

  He’d simply wanted to make sure she didn’t blow their cover, plus find out what the hell she’d been so upset about. He hadn’t expected her to suddenly start laying into him, her small fists battering against his chest.

  She’d been angry about something, that was for sure. No, not simply angry, she’d been furious. And for some reason she’d turned it on him. He’d let her hit him, because it hadn’t hurt and she clearly needed to get rid of some of her rage. But then he thought she might hurt herself, since he wasn’t exactly a soft target, so he’d grabbed her wrists and held on.

  She’d looked at him then and he’d seen the moment the anger had turned into something different. He hadn’t expected her to act on it though. To step up to him, bite him. Kiss him.

  Perhaps if she’d left it after the bite, he’d have been fine. He would have been able to resist. But she hadn’t. She’d kissed him again, awkward and hesitant, her fingers shaking as she clawed at the material of his shirt. Shaking as they’d touched his skin, her breath coming in short, hard pants.

  He’d never had a woman be so desperate for him before. So desperate that her hands shook. Women liked him, and when he had sex, he made sure they went away happy and satisfied. But there was something about the way Olivia had touched him. As if she couldn’t get enough of him.

  She’d wanted him so long. Longer than he’d ever expected. And now she was touching him …

  That touch of hers did things to him, traced fire all over him, and he’d thought he’d let her explore for a bit and then gently but calmly push her away. Because having sex with her hadn’t featured in any of his plans.

  Their relationship had already gotten complicated after he’d told her the truth about his friendship with her. Sex wasn’t going to make things any clearer.

  But … he’d found he couldn’t breathe, that his heart was going as hard as if he’d been on a twenty-mile ruck march, and that he ached. Not only his cock either. There was an ache inside him, somewhere deep, that wanted her hands on him. That wanted more of her shy, hesitant kisses. Her shaking, trembling touches.

  He shouldn’t have asked her what she wanted. Shouldn’t have looked into her eyes, seen the hot blue flame burning there.

  You.… Now.

  He’d never been a man who’d been good at resisting temptation, and Olivia in her little blue dress, her eyes full of heat, her rosebud mouth full and red from the kisses she’d given him, was his biggest temptation yet.

  He’d told himself that refusing her would hurt her and he knew that rejecting her advances definitely would.

 
But that wasn’t the whole story. Something inside him wanted her just as badly, and right here, right now had seemed liked the perfect time.

  So he hadn’t thought. He’d simply given her what she’d wanted. Him.

  And it had been … incredible.

  Virgins weren’t his thing, he didn’t have the patience. But with her, he found he had a boundless supply. Taking her down onto the bed, feeling her slight weight rest on him, the heat of her pussy seeping through his jeans, driving him insane.

  He’d wanted to flip her over, tear her panties off, sink inside her immediately, then fuck them both into oblivion. But he’d held himself back, letting her sit on him so he could see her face, studying her reactions as he’d drawn her dress up, as he’d traced her hot little pussy through the material of her panties.

  She’d been so wet, so slick. And when he’d touched her, he’d seen the bright flare of reaction that had crossed her face, heard her soft, shocked gasp.

  Yeah, somewhere deep inside himself, he’d found that patience for her. Had taken it slow, had kept himself under control. Watching her, touching her, feeling the tight, wet heat of her sex close like a fist around his cock, had been …

  He’d had a lot of women. Done a lot of things with them. Sometimes he’d had two at once and on a couple of memorable evenings, three.

  But for some reason the sight of Olivia de Santis, her dress pulled up above her hips, her blue eyes black with desire, her panting gasps filling the room as she’d moved on his cock, had been the most erotic experience of his life.

  And when the orgasm had broken over him it had been like an IED exploding right near his head, blowing him to bits and taking his consciousness with it.

  Yeah, he’d never had that happen to him before. An orgasm so intense it had blinded him.

  His body tightened, more than ready for another round, but Wolf ignored it for the meantime, turning his head and checking on Olivia. Her sobs had quieted and she now lay beside him, breathing softly, her breath warm against his neck.

  If this had been like any normal sexual encounter, he’d have pushed her onto her back and gotten her ready for round two, but this wasn’t a normal sexual encounter. And this wasn’t some chick he’d picked up in a bar.