The Wicked Billionaire--A Billionaire SEAL Romance by Jackie Ashenden

Author:Jackie Ashenden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Grace opened her eyes to find herself lying on her back with a heavy male arm lying over her stomach. And she had a moment’s disorientation thinking that the arm had to belong to Griffin, because she’d never slept with any other guy, so who else’s could it be?

Then she realized that this wasn’t her bedroom in the apartment she’d shared with Griffin, which meant the arm across her wasn’t Griffin’s. And anyway, Griffin was dead …

A sudden influx of memory caught at her. She’d been painting in her studio and then Lucas had come in and—

Oh God. Lucas.

She turned her head on the pillow and sure enough, the man lying next to her wasn’t dark or built like a boxer. He was long and lean, and muscled like a panther. He was also blond, the gray winter light coming through the windows tipping his hair nearly silver, his beautiful face relaxed in sleep.

Shock moved slowly through her as memories of the night before began to filter through her consciousness. Of his mouth on her in the shower, the water streaming over her body as he’d tasted her, making the intense pleasure unfurl inside her. And then later, in his bed, on her knees with him behind her, holding her wrists in the small of her back as he’d thrust into her, his fingers between her thighs, playing her like an instrument made especially for him.

She hadn’t thought he could possibly wring another orgasm from her, not after she’d had three already, and she’d told him so.

Apparently, she’d been wrong.

You’ve been wrong about a lot of things, haven’t you?

Heat moved through her and she looked away from him, guilt and embarrassment following along in its wake.

Not only was it possible for her to have a fourth orgasm in a row, it was also completely possible for her to be so hungry for a man that she wanted him to give her another one. Preferably soon. Even right now.

She hadn’t ever thought of herself as that type of woman. Not that it was bad, she’d just convinced herself that sex wasn’t that big of a deal. Pleasant when it happened, but nothing to crave like she needed air to breathe.

Maybe you just weren’t that type of woman with Griffin.

Her cheeks heated even further, guilt twisting inside her like an eel on the end of a fishing line. There was no denying it, she hadn’t felt this way with Griffin, not even a bit of it. She’d liked him a lot, and when he’d died she’d felt the sorrow of it like an arrow in her chest. But … he’d never taken her down onto a hard wooden floor and made her scream. Nor had he knelt at her feet in the shower and licked her like an ice cream. He’d never taken her from behind either, and she had a horrible feeling that if he’d done any of those things she would have pushed him away. She would have said no.

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