Mr. Slate_A Mr. Billionaire Short Story by Tessa Blake

Author:Tessa Blake [Blake, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Happy Ever After
Published: 2019-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

Slate

The taxi drops us off at my apartment, and Sunny tilts her head back to look up — and up — at the way the building spears into the sky.

“Hope you’ve got an elevator,” she says.

“Several.” I lead her inside and through the lobby. Tension throbs between us, but I keep my distance. There are cameras in the lobby, in the elevator, and I’d rather not provide entertainment for the people who monitor them. Same goes for the corridor from the elevator to my apartment.

But the instant I get her inside, all bets are off. The door closes behind us and I spin her around, pressing her against the wall and claiming her mouth. She winds her arms around my neck and kisses me back, just as fiercely.

It’s not enough, and I break away from her just long enough to pull her halter top up. She raises her arms so I can pull it over her head, and then I’m filling my hands with her breasts and kissing her again and moving toward the bedroom all at once. She stumbles and almost goes down, and laughs — a full-throated laugh in the middle of passion that somehow could not possibly be more arousing. I swing her into my arms and stride down the hall.

In the bedroom, I deposit her on the bed and step back, shucking off my clothes as quickly as I can. She looks up at me as I do, her gaze sweeping me from head to toe, and the appreciative gleam there makes all the hair on my arms stand up. How can she be so incredibly sexy?

I cover her body with mine, only her skirt between us, and explore her body, my hands discovering all the places that make her gasp and sigh. I feel drunk with it, almost delirious, as I strip off the rest of her clothes. Her skin is ridiculously soft, luminously pale. Faint freckles are scattered everywhere like constellations.

Our interlude on the roof was barely an appetizer for the feast before me, and I skim my mouth down over her stomach because I have to taste her, have to know if she tastes as good as she smells.

She does. And when she arches up and cries out my name as she comes, any small scrap of restraint I might have had goes completely out the window. I move swiftly up her body, silence the last of her gasps with my mouth hungry on hers, and tilt her hips up, sinking into the heat of her in one stroke. She makes a soft keening noise against my lips, and I move over her, winding my fingers in her hair so I can kiss her more deeply.

Oh, shit, I think. Stop for a second. Think about baseball.

It’s no use. She’s so hot, so wet. I shudder, then helplessly spill myself inside her. The pulsing feels like it rocks me all the way down to my toes, and I rest my forehead on hers for just a moment, wondering why sex has never, ever felt like this before.

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