Page 127 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

I couldn’t believe the turn of events. One minute, I was at an auction, trying to avoid Portia, and the next, she had me alone in a bedroom with her. My heart hammered in my chest as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing over my chest before undoing the buttons of my shirt. Despite myself, I let her push me against the wall and pressed her hips to mine. Her lips were soft against my jaw as she spoke about her newfound confidence and determination to go after what she wanted.

I knew all too well how that felt. It was why I’d been avoiding her. I was terrified of losing her again if things didn’t work out. But standing here with her, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, it was impossible to resist any longer. She was right. We deserved a chance. She was worth taking the risk for.

As she pulled back to look up at me, our eyes locking in a heated gaze, I knew this wouldn’t be like last time. We were different people now. I felt like we were both stronger, more certain of ourselves and each other. With a growl, I claimed her lips again. My hands traveled down her sides and skimmed over curves I’d fantasized about for months. The chemistry between us ignited like a wildfire, consuming us both as we finally gave in to what had always been there. Nine months later and things had only grown hotter. I would never not want her.

I reached behind her and unzipped her dress. The straps slipped off her shoulders. I pushed it down, revealing the virginal white bra and matching panties. I leaned in, capturing her lips again in a searing kiss as my hands skimmed over her bare skin, trailing down her back. The anticipation seemed to heighten both of our senses as we pressed against each other.

Portia moaned into the kiss, arching her back slightly as I palmed her ass, pulling her even tighter against me. My cock was hard as a rock in my pants, aching to be freed. With a rough groan, I slid my hands under her panties and traced patterns over her wet heat through the thin material.

She broke the kiss, looking up at me with hooded eyes. “Take them off,” she breathed.

I nodded, my fingers working on the button of my pants. As soon as it was undone, I pushed them down along with my briefs, freeing my hard length. Portia gasped softly as she looked down at me for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

“You’re beautiful,” she said softly, stroking her fingers over the head of my cock.

“And you’re stunning,” I growled out, catching her hand and lacing our fingers together.

I kicked off my shoes and socks, then rested my hands on her hips. “Lie down,” I commanded, nudging her toward the blanket on the floor. She hesitated for a moment, hesitant but not pulling away. Instead, she let out a shaky breath and finally complied, lying down on her back, and I followed suit.

The candles flickered around us, casting shadows on the walls and ceiling as we looked into each other’s eyes. A low moan escaped Portia as I kissed my way up her body, stopping to tease her nipples through the lacy bra. She arched into my touch, encouraging me to continue. With a wicked grin, I slipped a finger under the lace and teased her clit before trailing lower, tasting her sweetness. She bucked wildly beneath me, moaning my name.

“Don’t stop,” she panted as I pushed two fingers inside her wet heat, stretching and filling her just enough to make her gasp.

I knelt between her legs, gently pushing her thighs open wide. I bent down, inhaling the scent of her. Her hands clung to my shoulders as I licked and suckled at her sensitive bud, driving her wild with pleasure. “Oh God,” she moaned, thrusting against my face.

My cock ached to be inside her but I wanted to savor every second of this. Portia’s moans grew louder and more desperate as I continued to tease and pleasure her. She was so close, the tightening of her muscles around my fingers a clear indication. I didn’t want to rush her, wanted to make sure she enjoyed every moment of this. With one last lick, she was lost. She fell over the edge. I suckled, swallowing every drop as she came apart.

I pulled away and positioned myself at her entrance. “Are you ready for me?” I asked gruffly, already knowing the answer.

She moaned and reached for me. I pushed inside slowly, feeling her tight heat envelop me. Portia gasped sharply, arching her back off the floor. “Dean,” she breathed out softly, looking at me with desire and love. She reached up, entwining her fingers in my hair, and pulled me down.

I started moving slowly, thrusting in and out of her wet heat, feeling the familiar ache in my chest subside slightly with each passing moment. She was so responsive, meeting every stroke with a moan or a gasp. Her nails dug lightly into my shoulders, not enough to hurt but enough to leave their mark. Our hips slapped together, our bodies moving as one in perfect harmony.

Both of us were losing control inch by inch. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like to finally be truly alive. The sensations were overwhelmingly exquisite—her warmth enveloping me, her sweet moans filling my ears. The feeling of her muscles clenching around me just before she climaxed. “Portia,” I groaned out her name, pulling back before thrusting deep inside again. And just like that, she came apart beneath me, her body going rigid.

I buried my face in her neck as my own release hit me like a freight train—hard and fast and all-consuming. My body bucked wildly as I emptied myself inside her. When it was over, we lay there spent and satisfied, wrapped up in each other’s arms. My head was spinning from the force of the orgasm. I rolled onto my side, pressing my body against hers. “You,” I breathed out softly, lifting one of her hands to my lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I want you, Portia.”

We lay in our little cocoon for a while longer.

“Come back to my place,” I said into the quiet room.

She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to come home with you?”

I nodded, trailing my fingers along her bare arm. “I’ve spent nine months waking up without you. I’m not doing it again.”

Her smile was soft, hesitant. “What about Seth?”

“He’s got his own place now,” I said. “Has for months.”

“Really?” She sounded surprised, pushing up on one elbow to look at me. “You didn’t try to keep him close?”

I shrugged. “Turns out jail did what I couldn’t—made him grow up. He’s working at the shop full-time. Showing up on time. No drinking. No drugs. You’ll hardly recognize him.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s amazing, Dean. You must be so proud of him.”

“I am,” I admitted. “But I’m also just relieved. It’s like I can finally breathe again.”