Bedding The Billionaire Read Free

She wanted to push him down on
the couch and ride him until they were both spent.
    Control, Abbey. Get a grip.
    But control was long gone. The higher that hand went,
on its too-slow journey, the less control she had.
    Her heart was racing now, thudding against Damien's
back, and her skin felt papery thin, fragile, as her nerve endings screamed for
his touch.
    Damien half turned toward her to get into a better
position so his hand could continue. It moved upwards and inside, under her
skirt, heading higher.
    Then it stopped.
    She caught her breath and her gaze rose to his face. He
was looking at her. Dark, hooded eyes glazed with heat and passion flashed back
at her, questioning her.
    In answer, she moved, just an inch, but it was enough,
and his fingers brushed against the film of lace. She drew in a sharp breath
and her nails dug into the muscles of his back.
    More. She wanted those fingers higher, inside her. She
wished she'd dispensed with the underpants tonight as well as the bra to make
his job easier.
    Damien obliged her need and rubbed, his fingers
dipping into her wetness, the lace offering little barrier. Abbey moved her
hips so his fingers slid further inside. She was almost kneeling on the couch
beside him now, and his face was at her breasts.
    She took his head in both her hands and gently pulled
him to her. He licked at one nipple through her tight top and it puckered,
begging for more. He focused for a moment on the other one, drawing it into his
mouth, sucking, nibbling.
    Abbey's gasp shocked even herself. And it was enough
to bring her crashing back to earth.
    This wasn't right. She was supposed to be seducing
him, not the other way around. And although Lucy may have got some great shots
already, she'd stressed the part about getting him naked. And he wasn't. Not
yet.
    With a sigh of regret, Abbey released herself from
Damien's fingers and his tongue and concentrated on him instead.
    She unwrapped the towel from his waist and drew it
open, exposing the steadily beating, hard as a rock, erection. It was up,
straight up, almost flat against his stomach. It begged to be stroked, caressed,
licked.
    He let out a sigh then a tiny moan as she took it into
her palm. He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes as Abbey explored
with her fingers, lightly touching the ridges, the veins, the smooth tip.
    His breathing became loud, forced, and his eyelids
fluttered.
    "That feels so good," he whispered. "Don't
stop. Please."
    The plead made her heart thump. It was as if he hadn't
felt a woman's hand there in a long time. As if he wanted — no,
needed — it to go on, until the end.
    She watched his face as her hand massaged. The muscles
along his square jaw jumped and his sensuous lips parted.
    Damien Vane was a gorgeous man. No wonder he had so
many women. The thought of that long list of mistresses, and the angry wife,
made Abbey's hand miss a beat.
    But Damien didn't appear to notice. His Adam's apple
leaped once, twice, and his hand found Abbey's leg again. He pushed her skirt
up the short distance it needed to go so he could get his hand inside. He
rubbed against the damp panties, pressing her swollen folds.
    Abbey closed her eyes, then forced them open. She
removed her hand from Damien and stood, nearly overbalanced, then wobbled on
her high heels to the window. If she was going to take this further, she at
least wanted to keep some of her dignity.
    "What are you doing?" Damien asked thickly.
    She closed the blinds and turned back to him. He
looked like a pagan God, sitting naked on the couch, his legs parted, his
manhood standing to attention.
    "The moon's too bright." The sound of her
voice surprised her — it was heavy with lust.
    She pulled the tiny top over her head then unzipped
the tight skirt, wiggling it down her bottom and thighs and letting it puddle
at her feet. She hooked her thumbs into her lacy thong, and began to lower them
too, but Damien, entranced by the show, held up his hand.
    "Stop," he