Free The Bad Boy Billionaire's Wicked Arrangement by Maya Rodale

me, kissing me all over. Everywhere. My mouth doing wicked things to him. All over. Everywhere. Hands caressing and exploring . . . until that tie reappeared. Duke wound it around my wrists, binding them together and leaving me under his control.
    I opened my mouth to protest. He silenced me with a kiss.
    I struggled slightly against the silk. Duke laced his fingers with mine and pinned my hands to the mattress above my head. His gaze locked with mine. For a second, I found it impossible to breath.
    “You’re gonna like this, Jane,” he murmured. I knew he was right. I was just . . . nervous and excited and curious and a bit scared and . . . his mouth closed around the pink center of my breast and I just sighed, sinking into all the exquisite sensations.
    His hands roamed over my bare skin. I wanted desperately to touch him back. He laughed softly as I writhed under his touch. I only smiled wickedly in response. Even in the dark, he saw. He paid attention to the kisses that made me moan and the caresses that made me sigh. He discovered just how to touch me to drive me crazy.
    Duke’s fingers started to work their magic. I felt the heat increasing and pressure building. I was wet and ready and desperate to feel him inside me. And I was loud about it.
    “Shhh, you’ll wake the neighbors,” he murmured. For the first time, I didn’t care because I didn’t know the neighbors and I wouldn’t ever have to see them.
    “Who cares about them?” I panted. If I didn’t come soon . . .
    Duke reached over to the bedside table for a condom, ripped open the wrapper and put it on. And tortured me with his hands and mouth some more. With the pressure building, I couldn’t take it. I fussed with the silk tie, managing to free my hands.
    Finally I could touch him and I savored the solid warmth of his chest. I skimmed my fingernails down his back and pressed my palm against his lower back and urged him to me. I needed him. Now. I couldn’t quite manage the words. But I could cry out when he entered me at a torturously slow pace.
    I writhed beneath him. We found our rhythm. Then we lost it in a frantic rush of almost too much pleasure all at once. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. I cried out, overwhelmed. He groaned then shouted my name as he came.
    We lay in bed for a while after that, just catching our breath and waiting for racing hearts to return to normal. The room was dark—but light from the city shone through the window.
    We climbed under the tangled mess of blankets.
    Beside me, Duke laughed softly to himself.
    “I can’t decide if you’re keeping me out of trouble. Or not.” He turned his head toward me and I saw the slight grin on his mouth.
    “What do you mean?”
    “On one hand, I’m not out at clubs, with other girls. And drinking too much, and getting into fights that are filmed and posted online before heading home with said girls.”
    Girls. Plural. I decided to let that one go. He was just a guy after all.
    “But then again we’re not exactly chaste and proper,” I said, turning to face him. He rolled over onto his side to face me.
    “Chaste and proper?” he said with a laugh. I blushed, in the dark. “Am I in bed with Jane Sparks or Jane Austen?” he asked.
    “Haha.” I’d been writing all day in Regency-speak and I didn’t exactly have my wits about me enough to filter out old-fashioned language.
    “But we’re engaged, so it’s OK,” he said softly.
    “Do you think people really believe it?”
    “Sure. They want to. There’s enough evidence that it’s easy to.”
    “Project-TK means a lot to you,” I said. Of course I knew that. But what started out as a crazy scheme was now turning into something bigger. I was afraid it would become real. Or that I would fall for him. I couldn’t forget that—
    “Yeah. Everything,” he murmured. Project-TK was everything to him. I was doing him a favor and getting something out of it myself—namely, orgasms, travel and a