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He stops me before I can point out how outrageously rich he is. “Don’t tell me what I understand, Little Flick.” His sexy voice is dangerous, and I flinch at the coldness behind his bronze features. “I lost my mother when I was young, too. Believe it or not, I admire you. Not many people would do something so selfless to help those they’re not obligated to save.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His fingers work their way from my cheek to my hair, twisting gently around the long dark strands. My stomach becomes a mess of butterflies and confusion. “It was my obligation.”
He brings our foreheads together. “You really are something, Felicity.” His lips brush mine with every word, spreading a tingle through my face and body. It’s terrifying—being touched by him. Because I like it. I like the static in his rough touch and the sweet minty scent of his breath. “My sweet, responsible Little Flick.”
“Do you do that to irritate me?” I ask breathlessly, but I like that too. When he calls me by that nickname. Whenever he speaks, period. His brow shoots up. “Call me Little Flick?”
“You are little, though.” Using my hair, he draws my head back slightly and trails a hot path down my neck. “So sweet.” He sucks on the base of my throat. “So perfect.” He kisses the tops of my breasts, first the left and then the right, and I sigh like a fool. “So fucking virginal.”
It’s not supposed to feel this good. It shouldn’t even sound good. But with his mouth on my body, and his fingers firmly planted in my hair, I’m on fire for him. Blood pounds so fiercely in my ears and my sex that it takes me a moment to realize he’s pressing a folded sheet of paper into the palm of my hand.
He scrapes his teeth over my left nipple through my dress and my grip tightens around the paper. “What’s this?”
“You went to your physician. I went to mine. That’s a clean bill of health, sweet.” He pulls my head back a little more and focuses his free hand on my other nipple, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. “I want to fuck you bare.”
“Bare?” I repeat, and he growls.
“Fuck, it’s easy to forget how pure you are when your body seems to be made for mine.” As if to demonstrate, he releases my nipple and finally slips his hand into the top of my dress to caress my skin. “Bare means no condom. Just you and me—fucking like animals. I can’t seem to help myself around you and want to feel every inch of your body.”
My fingers slacken around the paper from his doctor, and my words sound slurred when I retort, “I thought you said you weren’t going to … you know.”
Chuckling, he jerks down my dress, bra and all, around my waist. I’ve always been proud of my body, but the desire in his eyes fizzles my brain. He exhales a breath of approval, then lowers his dark head to drag my nipple between his teeth. “I said I can’t seem to help myself around you,” he says, somehow sounding composed and in control despite the mouthful of nipple. I, on the other hand, am a mess.
I’m on the edge of my seat, biting my tongue, hoping my pussy will cooperate and not drench his couch. Everything about this man works me up. He smirks and I get wet. Crooks his finger at me and my center goes crazy with curiosity. And when he touches me there, I ignite.
He gives my nipple another swirl of his tongue, sits upright, then circles the back of his fingers over the pebbled flesh. I wince, though I’m not sure if it’s from pain or pleasure because right now—right now I feel both. “I’m also a fucking beast when it comes to keeping my word.” He winks at me and stands up. “And true to my word, Little Flick, I’m not done with you yet. Come with me.”
Too stunned to follow him when he starts toward the closed door on the far side of the room, I remain on the couch with my legs tightly locked. He gets halfway to his destination, looks over his shoulder to see I’m where he left me, and releases an impatient breath. My heart pounds in my throat as he takes three long strides in my direction. Before I can protest, I’m over one of his shoulders with the flared skirt of my dress around my hips and my bare ass close to his face.
He turns his face and kisses my ass cheek. “Mr. Cade!” I shriek, and he laughs darkly.
“Formalities, sweet? I don’t remember there being any of those when my tongue was deep in your cunt.” Toting me around like a caveman in a business suit, he sweeps through the bedroom door. Though my hair falls over my face, I see the room is big—big and blindingly white, decorated with contemporary furnishings. The bed is a work of art, a behemoth that’s much larger than any king-size I’ve ever seen. My heart skips a beat as he moves closer to it.
