Free The Billionaire's Embrace (The Silver Cross Club) by Bec Linder Page A

leave without touching me, I would probably die.
    But it didn’t seem like he was going to do that. He moved his hand away from my breast and dropped it to my hip. He pulled me against him, the sides of our bodies pressed together, and turned so that he was leaning into the corner of the sofa, and I was leaning with my back against his chest. Then he reached down and started hiking up my skirt.
    I lifted my hips to give him easier access, and with a few quick tugs he had my skirt pulled up around my waist. He traced his fingers along the lacy waistband of my panties, making me jump.
    “What should I do with you, hmm?” he asked me.
    I thought the answer was obvious. “I—anything you want,” I said, already breathless.
    “Oh, good girl,” he said warmly. “That was the right answer.”
    I shivered with pleasure, warm and safe against him, both of his arms around me, holding me close. He slid his right hand between my legs, tracing delicate patterns over the lace of my underpants, stimulating my sensitive flesh and making me burn with arousal.
    “You’ve soaked your panties,” he said. “You liked sucking me off, didn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t have made you stop.” He pressed his fingers against my slit and rubbed firmly, and I squirmed against him, wanting more.
    “Please,” I said. I wasn’t ashamed to beg.
    “As much as I’d like to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess, we don’t really have the time for that,” he said. “So you’ll just have to imagine that I spent half an hour making you forget your own name.” And without any more warning, he slid his hand into my panties, the waistband stretching around his wrist, and started rubbing my clit in tight circles.
    I arched my hips off the sofa, my mouth open in a soundless moan. Everything between my thighs was wet and throbbing, and Carter knew exactly how to touch me, exactly where to put his fingers to make me lose my mind.
    “That’s right,” Carter said. “No time for subtlety. You’re going to cream yourself in the next five minutes, and I’m going to smell you on me for the rest of the evening.”
    How could I do anything, when he talked to me like that, but tip my head back onto his shoulder and close my eyes and let him work me into a frenzy?
    He slid his hand further between my legs and pressed two fingers into me. I clenched around them, welcoming the intrusion. He used the heel of his hand to grind at my clit, and I heard myself make a high-pitched sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry of ecstasy.
    His other hand slid up my side to tease at my breasts through the silky fabric of my blouse. I was wearing an unlined bra, and he plucked and pinched until my nipples were throbbing in time with my clit.
    I never knew, until I met Carter, that I could be this kind of person, this shameless, sexual creature. He drew it out of me, made me forget myself in the search for pleasure, made me want nothing more than to do exactly as he said and come to pieces under his hands.
    “You’re so close,” he said. “Don’t hold back. What else do you need? My mouth? A finger in your ass?”
    I only needed his words, breathed hot into my ear. I pushed my hips against his palm and squeezed around his fingers and came like a rocket, shuddering in his arms.
    He kissed my neck, gently, letting me recover.
    “Wow,” I said, after a couple of minutes had passed.
    I felt his mouth curve into a smile against my neck. He slid his fingers out of me and drew his hand out of my panties. His fingers glistened, and I turned my head away, embarrassed, as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his hand.
    “And now, you need to get back to work, and I need to attend to my guests,” he said. “Don’t let Germaine scold you. I’ll tell her you were doing me a favor.”
    “Okay,” I said. I stood up and shook my skirt back into place and combed my fingers through my hair, smoothing it back into place. My legs still felt wobbly beneath me. I