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I want to tear myself away but I also yearn for more. I’m burning from the inside out and I don’t want it to stop.
Considering we met less than fifteen minutes ago, everything about this is utterly insane. And yet…I’m melting for him. Whining for more. Between my thighs feels slick and hot.
He breaks the kiss for a second and breathes heavily against my lips. “Fuck me. This mouth. Your taste,” he groans. “How the hell can I let you out of my sight now? How can I trust that this beautiful body won’t get bruised when I’m not looking? I can’t, can I, angel? I dare not because I’d rather chop off my fucking arms than have a single inch of you neglected for one more day.”
His words are strange, but they’re also like a drug, stealing into my blood, dragging me closer.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and wish I could burrow deeper. To a place where all I can hear are his intoxicating words, where all I can feel are his strong arms around me. Feel that hard bar of his erection pressing into my belly, making me light-headed. And it feelshuge.
I’ve touched myself before, explored under the cover of my sheets. That place between my thighs that gets wet when I read the raunchy parts of my books feels far too small to take this monster pressing against my stomach.
Not that I’m going to even allow it because this is…insane. Right?
“Mr. Prince…”
“It’s Jared.” He licks my bottom lip with decadent strokes that make my insides jump and my nipples turn diamond hard. “For now.”
I don’t know what that means but I don’t press him about it. And when he bites my lips, I whimper again before dragging myself away. “Please…I…we need to finish talking about this.”
He exhales heavily. Then eases back. His eyes—which I just noticed have hints of gold—blaze at me for a moment before he nods.
“You’re right. Come. Let me show you around.” He trails his hands down my arms to grasp my wrists and he seems to have a hard time tearing his gaze away from my mouth.
“Show me around? That wasn’t what I meant. I told you, I’m not staying,” I say firmly.
His smile is less feral this time but the intensity remains. He doesn’t need to say the words to let me know he’s not going to let me go.
His touch is gentle but insistent as he leads me from room to room, my eyes goggling with each stunning revelation.
I knew Jared lived on the street my father enviously referred to as Billionaire’s Row when he griped to his friends about his boss on the phone.
And even if he hadn’t, even if I hadn’t grasped that Jared was an insanely wealthy billionaire venture capitalist who had puzzlingly become a recluse who rarely left his tower residence, the ride over to this part of town I rarely visited opened my eyes to that fact.
But Dad talked about him like the dude was some eccentric workaholic sliding into madness instead of this gorgeous, intensely magnetic man who bristles with far too much animalistic energy.
The man whose gaze keeps sliding to me as he leads me down yet another hallway, gauging my reaction as he pauses in front of imposing double doors. “This is my bedroom.”
Without releasing me, he throws the doors open.
Rich grey and dark wood are the dominant theme, culminating in a massive bed with silvery grey covers that absorb all my attention. Because I can’t look at it without imagining Jared spread out on it, his hard muscled nakedness splayed out in magnificent glory.
Like all the rooms I’ve seen so far, this one doesn’t have drapes.
My imagination takes flight, conjuring him kissing me on that bed, undressing me, doing things to me that make the knot in my belly grow until I lose my mind.
Flames heat up my face,hell, my whole body. A single glance at him tells me he brought me here to gain that reaction.
A little afraid and a lot annoyed, I turn and flee but I don’t get far.
He catches me in the hallway, pins my body to the wall and cups my chin in his hand.
“I’m not going to sleep with you to make up for whatever you think my father’s done,” I blurt out.
Irritation flashes across his face. “I’ve never forced myself on a woman, little girl. I’m not about to start with you.”
The panic dissipates, leaving behind those tiny fireworks that just won’t quit.
It sizzles higher when I play back the “little girl” he just called me through my head. Since I got here, he’s also called me “angel” and “princess” when he was growling about not letting me go.
