Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation Page 9

  “Quite a woman,” Mitchell drawled.

  Evan stiffened and turned to see his brother standing there, drink in hand.

  “Where’s the bride-to-be?” Evan asked. “Didn’t figure she’d let you out of her sight until the vows are spoken.”

  Mitchell shrugged. “She’s over with Mom, talking about the honeymoon arrangements.” He looked again at Celia and their father. “You’re marrying her for real?”

  “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?” Evan asked mildly.

  “Doesn’t seem your type.”

  Evan regarded his brother with curiosity. “And what is my type?”

  “Someone like Bettina. You seemed pretty hung up on her.”

  “I think it’s safe to say I’m not hung up on Bettina.”

  “I can see why you’re attracted to her,” Mitchell said.

  “Who?” Evan demanded sharply.

  “Celia.”

  Both men stared across the room to where Celia danced with Marshall.

  “She’s a beautiful woman. I bet she’s awesome in bed.”

  Evan rounded furiously on his brother. “You shut the hell up. Don’t even breathe her name again. You got it?”

  Mitchell smiled and backed away, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re awfully touchy about her. Funny, you weren’t that pissed when you found out about Bettina.”

  Mitchell sauntered off and Evan turned away, angry that he’d let his brother goad him.

  “Evan, there you are.”

  He sighed when his mom latched on to his arm and dragged him over to introduce him to people he had zero interest in and would never see again in his life. After several minutes of pleasantries, Evan grew restless. The song ended, and he turned in search of Celia.

  His father was making his way through the crowd toward Evan and Lucy, but Celia was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Evan scanned the room until finally he found her.

  She was dancing with Mitchell. She didn’t look altogether thrilled, but Mitchell was smiling as he held Celia close.

  Irrational anger exploded over Evan. All he could see was that it was Bettina all over again, only this time it mattered. This was Celia. His Celia.

  His brother was a slimy predator. Never mind that Celia was perfectly capable of fending off any advances. He didn’t even imagine she’d ever be receptive to an overture on Mitchell’s part. But the fact that his brother would behave this way at his own wedding celebration enraged Evan.

  His woman. He let Bettina go because she was never his. Celia was his even if she hadn’t recognized that little fact.

  Not stopping to think how it would look to others, he cut a path through the crowd that had people exclaiming on either side of him. When he got to Mitchell and Celia, he reached for his brother’s arm and spun him around.

  “What the—” Mitchell began.

  His eyes narrowed angrily, but Evan stopped him with a look.

  “You’ll excuse us, Mitchell. I find I’ve spent entirely too much time away from my fiancée.”

  Celia stared at both brothers in shock but didn’t utter a single protest when Evan all but dragged her out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

  The predator had been unleashed. No way he’d stand by and watch his brother move in on what he considered his.

  He stalked toward the elevator, his only thought to get Celia as far away from everyone else as possible. He punched the button and hauled her inside. As soon as the door closed, he slammed her against the back wall and angled his mouth over hers.

  It was like a fuse igniting. Desire sizzled down his spine, frying every nerve ending in its path. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t sure he had it in him. He devoured her. Claimed her.

  She gasped for breath, and he stole it as soon as she could gain it back.

  “Evan, what on earth …”

  The question ended on a moan as his mouth slid down her jaw to her neck. He sucked hungrily at the soft skin just below her ear.

  Behind him the doors opened and without taking his mouth from her skin, he maneuvered them down the hall toward their suite.

  He was on fire. He had no rational thought. His only instinct was to take her. To make her understand she belonged to him. Only to him.

  Her eyes were dazed when he leaned her against the wall next to the door. His hands shook as he rummaged in his pocket for the key. It took two times before he inserted it correctly and as soon as the lock released, he threw open the door, held it with his foot and reached for her again.

  This time she did her share of grabbing. Amid the turmoil of his jumbled, raging lust, relief hit him hard. She was with him. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her.

  He tore at her clothing. Then he tore at his. Shoes and shirts hit the floor, leaving a trail across the floor to his bedroom.

  By the time the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed, she was down to just her bra and panties. Not just underwear. Pink, delicate, frothy confections that accentuated every curve and swell. Her breasts bulged and plumped upward over the cups. He could see a hint of her aureole and it was driving him crazy.

  His fingers fumbled with his pants. Her hands tangled with his as they both shoved downward.

  “God, Celia.” He couldn’t catch his breath long enough to say what he wanted. “I always swore when I made love to you I’d savor you for hours. I told myself I’d take my time touching and kissing every inch of your body. But I swear, if I don’t get inside you soon, I’m going to explode.”

  “Fast is good,” she panted. “We can do slow later.”

  “Thank God.”

  He fell forward, taking her with him. They both hit the bed, and she absorbed the shock of his body melding to hers.

  “I’ll savor you next time,” he promised between kisses.

  “Savor is good. We can definitely savor. But, God, Evan, make love to me now. Please.”

  He chuckled and captured her mouth with his. “Sweet. So sweet. I’m going to take you, Celia. I’m going to take everything you have to offer. If you don’t want this, tell me now. I’ll stop. It’ll kill me, but I’ll stop.”

  She pulled away and stared up at him with glowing, brilliant eyes. Her hands traced a line from his temples over his face and to his jaw.

  “Take me then,” she whispered.

  Ten

  Celia lay underneath Evan’s big body. Every part of her was covered by him. His heat penetrated her, seeped into her flesh and whispered seductively through her veins.

  She wanted him. God, she wanted this man. Her need for him frightened and exhilarated her in equal parts. She knew she shouldn’t—that she mustn’t—and yet she also knew she wouldn’t tell him no.

  There would be no recriminations later. There would be no regret. She knew the potential pitfalls of making love with Evan, and she would face them with full acceptance.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She raised her gaze to meet his. He was propped on his arms, his body still flush with hers and their noses were mere inches apart.

  His eyes were warm with desire, liquid with want, and her heart fluttered in response.

  His voice was so tender and understanding. He stared down at her like she was the only woman he’d ever made love to. A mixture of awe and wonder that humbled her.

  “I was thinking we shouldn’t do this,” she admitted.

  “But? There’s definitely a but in that sentence.”

  He sounded so hopeful that she smiled and once again traced the lean lines of his face with a fingertip.

  “But I don’t care. I should care. I should be on my way back to San Francisco. I should have never agreed to stay.”

  “But,” he murmured again, his voice husky and so very predatory.

  “But I’m here, in your arms, and I want you so much that I’m willing to take the biggest risk of my life. I won’t lie, I don’t like that about myself. I don’t like that I’m allowing infatuation and sexual desire to mes
s with my head. It’s stupid and irresponsible and …”

  He shushed her with one finger and then followed it down with his lips. He nibbled playfully at the corner of her mouth and then licked the spot where he nipped.

  “Trust me, Celia.”

  She went completely still and stared up at him, the intensity that burned so bright in his gaze.

  “Trust me to take care of you. I won’t let this hurt you. We can make it work.”

  “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  “Let’s take it slow. Well, after we go really fast this time.” He grinned crookedly and shifted so she could feel his straining erection against her groin. “We can do this, Celia. We’re adults in charge of our own destiny. There’s no problem we can’t solve together. Trust me.”

  Peace descended, enveloping her in its sweet, soothing grasp. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down into a long, passionate kiss.

  Trust him.

  He made it sound so simple, and maybe it was.

  She slid her mouth up his jaw to his ear. As she nibbled on it, she said softly, “Make love to me, Evan.”

  With a groan, he rolled until their positions were reversed and she was sprawled atop him. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra and a second later, it flew across the room, hitting the drawn curtains over the window.

  She felt his sudden inhalation. He stilled and then his hand skimmed up her back and around to her breasts. His fingertips brushed over the swells and to her nipples.

  Each stroke, each touch no matter how light, ignited a fire deep inside that threatened to overtake her. Her urgency matched his own. Her impatience was his.

  And then he leaned up and took one sensitive nipple in his mouth and she was lost. Her head fell back. Her eyes closed as sweet, sharp pleasure radiated in waves through her body.

  Despite his impatience, his lips and tongue were exquisitely tender as he suckled first one breast and then the other.

  His hands spanned her waist and then moved lower until his fingers caught in the band of her panties. He yanked, and she heard them rip.

  “I’ll buy you more,” he rasped as he rolled again, putting her underneath him once more.

  “Buy me what?”

  “Panties.”

  “Highly overrated,” she murmured.

  He laughed against her mouth. “I totally agree.”

  “Speaking of … underwear. You’re still wearing yours.”

  He reared up between her knees, yanked his briefs off, and she stared shamelessly at his distended length. He followed her gaze down then looked back up at her, a cocky grin making him adorable.

  “You like?”

  She reached for him, enfolding him in her hands. “Oh, yes, I like.”

  He clamped a hand over her arm and squeezed. “Celia, you can’t. I’m too close. This will never work. I have to get inside you or it’s going to be over way too soon.”

  She rose up, curling one hand around his neck even as she slid her fingers suggestively up and down his erection.

  “Savor later. Remember?”

  “Condom,” he bit out.

  She let him go long enough for him to fumble through his discarded pants. Seconds later, he started to roll the latex on, but she reached for it, snagging it from his grasp.

  “Come here.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” he breathed.

  She lay back and he straddled her hips. He loomed over her, big and strong. She felt entirely too small, too at his mercy, but as her hands slid over his manhood, he closed his eyes and a shudder rippled through his massive body, and the power shifted significantly in her direction.

  Then he fell forward, planting his hands on either side of her head. “I can’t wait.”

  “Savor later,” she reminded.

  His smile was brilliant. He leaned down to kiss her just as he reached down to part her thighs. With one hand, he pulled one leg away from the other. His mouth never left hers. His weight was supported by his left arm. He angled to the side as he gently explored her swollen, feminine folds.

  “Evan, please,” she begged. “You’re killing me here. If you don’t hurry, I’m so leaving you behind.”

  He eased one finger inside and evidently satisfied that she was ready for him, he shifted over her and settled between her thighs. His erection prodded carefully at first, then he found her heat and thrust hard and deep.

  She arched, bowing her back off the mattress. She grasped desperately at his shoulders, her fingers curling into his skin until she was sure she drew blood.

  It was too much. It was absolutely magnificent. He filled her. She’d never felt so alive, so splendid, so tuned in to her own pleasure.

  “Hold on to me,” he ordered in a thick, hazy voice.

  It was a needless command. She couldn’t do anything but hold him as he drove into her over and over.

  “Oh,” she gasped. “Evan, please, I need …”

  She didn’t even know what she was asking for, only that she’d die if she didn’t get it. Her body was near to breaking point. All she needed was.

  He reached down and his fingers slid between them.

  “That. Oh my God, that.”

  Her cry echoed sharply over the room. It was the single most exquisite pleasure and pain all in one she’d experienced in her life. The tension was so sharp, so unbearable and then finally she exploded.

  The room darkened around her. She blinked but everything was fuzzy. All she was aware of was Evan stroking into her and the wonderful melting sensation as she went liquid around him.

  He growled her name and then he gathered her in his arms, holding her so tight she couldn’t breathe. His hips jerked against her before finally he collapsed onto her, his chest heaving with exertion.

  Her hands relaxed on his shoulders and went from punishing grip to soothing caresses. His skin was damp, and all that could be heard were his harsh breaths against her neck.

  She held him as tight as he held her, determined to offer him all of herself. No barriers. No defenses. Just two people connecting in a way that overwhelmed her senses.

  “You undo me, Celia,” he said, his voice muffled against her neck.

  She smiled and continued to stroke his back, enjoying the feel of his flesh beneath her fingers.

  He finally rolled away to discard the condom and then came back and pulled her into his arms so they faced each other.

  “That was … amazing.”

  She touched his lips, still fascinated with the feel of him, the rougher textures and the softness of his mouth.

  “I felt pretty savored.”

  He smiled and kissed her, just one light smooch that sent a giddy little thrill down her back.

  “I have this fantasy. It’s pretty vivid, actually.”

  “This I gotta hear.”

  He smacked her lightly on her behind. “Listen up, woman. Pay attention when your man bears his soul.”

  She laughed and he continued.

  “It didn’t quite go according to plan because I was supposed to savor you first. I planned to take a couple of hours and make love to you until you were mindless. Then I was going to take you hard and fast.”

  “Screwed that one up.”

  He smacked her again and shook his head.

  “So now I have this fantasy where we have fast and furious sex. Then I savor you for … okay maybe an hour. And then we have fast, furious sex again. Then you get on top and have your wicked way with me. And then you get on your hands and knees …”

  Celia put her hand over his mouth and burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. You’re an insatiable, horny male.”

  “Only for you,” he said seriously. “You seem to regularly star in my most-vivid fantasies. I could probably be arrested for some of them. They might not be legal in all states.”

  “Lucky for you, California is so progressive,” she murmured.

  Her heart fluttered helplessly. His words … God, his w
ords. How could she even respond to what he’d said? He sounded so … sincere. How had they gotten to this point? It scared the living hell out of her.

  “So what about you? Have any interesting fantasies about me?”

  He sounded so hopeful that she had to laugh again. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the muscled wall of his chest.

  “I’m liking the savor part a lot.”

  “Me, too,” he murmured as he reached down to tug her chin high enough that he could kiss her again.

  He was a man of his word. He spent every bit of the next hour driving her mindless with his hands and his mouth. His tongue. Have mercy, his tongue.

  There wasn’t an inch of her he left untouched. He put his stamp on her. She felt branded. Possessed.

  His tongue circled her most sensitive point nestled among the soft folds of her femininity. He worked her to the very brink of orgasm, until she quivered uncontrollably. She shivered when he pulled away and then finally he slid into her, long and slow. Hot and so tender. So very tender.

  She squeezed her eyes shut but then he pressed gentle kisses to her lids until she opened them again. He stared down at her with such intensity she forgot to breathe. His eyes burned a fiery trail over her face, stroking and caressing her cheeks and her mouth.

  He was dangerous. Oh, yes, so dangerous. She had no protection from him, and worse, she didn’t want any. He could easily find his way into her heart.

  Maybe he already had.

  That should scare her to death, but instead, a warm, comfortable feeling settled over her. Contentment.

  She stared into his eyes and saw herself. Saw them. Together.

  He rocked over her, taking his time as he stoked the fire inside her higher and higher.

  The strain was evident on his face. He held himself in check as he drove her relentlessly toward release. He wasn’t going to let go of his own until she reached hers.

  She twined her body tightly with his, loving the sensation of being so connected, so intrinsically linked.

  “Evan,” she whispered against his mouth.

  He kissed her. Hard. “Give it to me. Let go.”

  The breathless words unlocked something deep inside her. She arched into him, giving herself unreservedly. Wave after wave of the most beautiful pleasure rolled through her, fanning out and rippling.