Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I cried out because it hurt—but felt amazing.
He fucked me up against the wall, his flattened palm holding my stomach, his lips breathing at my ear. “Then I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”
I had to fix my makeup and comb my hair before we left because I looked like a goddamn train wreck. But it was worth it to get fucked like his whore. Now we sat together at the table, in one of the nicest restaurants, the kind that had a yearlong waitlist. I’d been there once because a billionaire client had taken me.
Bartholomew was so out of place for a restaurant like this, but he also fit perfectly. He knew how to order wine, knew how to conduct himself like he’d done this a hundred times. He seemed to have a secret life.
“Have you eaten here before?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Like, a lot?”
“Many times.”
“You don’t seem like a man who enjoys this sort of thing.”
He grabbed the stem of his glass and took a drink. “Part of the job.”
“Fine dining?” I asked. “You booked this reservation in advance but didn’t want to waste it?”
“I didn’t have a reservation.”
“Then how did you get in?”
“I own it.”
I stiffened at his announcement because that explanation made perfect sense and I should have guessed. He told me he owned a lot of businesses in Paris because it was the only way to wash all his money.
He grabbed the bottle and refilled my glass.
Sometimes I forgot who Bartholomew was. To me, he was just my lover, but to everyone else, he was a billionaire drug kingpin.
“Have you been here before?”
“Once—and I loved it.”
“With whom?”
“A client.” I noticed the way he ignored my compliment. Probably didn’t care if people liked the restaurant or not. “He’s super rich, so he was able to get a reservation.” They asked for a fifty percent deposit, and that was five hundred euros. I didn’t have that kind of money.
He drank from his glass again.
“This is our first time out… It’s nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“You don’t do this sort of thing, do you?” I could tell this experience wasn’t as fulfilling for him as it was for me.
“For business. Not pleasure.”
“You’ve never taken a woman on a date before?”
He gave a subtle shake of his head. “Dinner just postpones sex, and sex is all I’m interested in.”
“What about with me?”
His dark eyes were settled on me, still like a calm lake, a deep brown like the soil after a rain. The restaurant was decorated with gold and soft lighting, and it deepened the shadows under his jawline. Time seemed to pass differently for him than it did for everyone else, because long pauses of silence didn’t unnerve him. “The situations aren’t comparable.”
“Why not?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it, to treasure the fact that we were together again, that he was mine and not someone else’s. Our time together still felt like a dream after the nightmare of his absence.
“Because you’re my woman.”
The second the door was closed, he was on me.
The top of my dress was pulled down to expose my tits, and the bottom was hiked up to my stomach. He slid his thumbs inside my little black thong and pulled it over my ass before he guided me onto the bed.
The dress was a band around my stomach, and my heels were still secured to my ankles. I lay there and watched him get undressed, taking his time popping every button, his eyes glued to me. He pulled off the collared shirt, showing a ripped physique that was so strong and tight. His pants came next, that fat dick coming free and just as ready to fuck me as it had been before we’d left for the restaurant.
Fuck, he was so hot.
He moved up my body then positioned me the way he wanted, folding my legs like a pretzel, tilting my pelvis so he could slide right into my slickness.
“Wait.”
He stilled, his eyes checking mine for unease.
My fingers slid into his hair, and I kissed him. A slow kiss, an embrace that was purposeful. I felt his lips. Felt his tongue. Took my time to treasure this man for the god he was.
He let me decide the pace, allowed me to slow down the heat until it was a gentle simmer. He grabbed my ankle, slipped off the heel, and planted my foot against his chest. I’d always been flexible, and that came in handy now as he molded me into what he wanted. With his lips on mine, he guided himself to my entrance and pressed hard against it like a firm kiss, and then sank past my flesh and dived into the wetness.
I breathed against his mouth as I felt him slide all the way in. My fingers were still in his thick hair as I confessed the depth of my feelings. “I love you.” I said it against his lips, said it as I grabbed him as tightly as I could.