Free Billionaire Boss by Meagan McKinney Page A

the sleeping beauty, he wondered what she wanted out of it.
    Kirsten would want more than just a little jewelry, he had no doubts about that. And maybethat was what made her so powerful. Unlike any other woman he’d ever known who was happy with just an account at Tiffany’s, Kirsten wanted more. She wanted his soul.
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    Kirsten sensed the feather-soft caress on her cheek well before she felt it. In her dream state, nothing seemed real; everything was accepted. Even a touch could morph into some crazy plot that made sense only to the dreamer.
    The stroke came again on her cheek.
    Fluttering open her sleepy eyes, she looked and found Seth, his face so close a kiss was only a breath away.
    It seemed as natural as rain to let him kiss her then. He knelt by the couch like a prince. The fire licked golden light across both of them, urging them on, drumming the rally call to their primal instincts.
    She wasn’t dreaming. He was truly there, kissing her, taking her chin in his hand, his other hand slipping familiarly between the part in her flannel robe and squeezing her breast.
    Neon signs should have flashed by then, telling her she was getting in over her head.
    But the warnings never came.
    Perhaps she was lonelier than she admitted even to herself, perhaps she was truly falling inlove with him. She didn’t know. All she did know was that she’d woken from a beautiful dream only to find the dream had substance. Her deepest, darkest fantasy was coming true and leading to a nightmare. And she had no power to fight it. No power at all.
    He slipped out of his shirt and cowboy boots.
    She lay on the couch watching him with heavy, need-filled eyes. When he unzipped himself out of his jeans, her breath caught. He was more than she’d bargained for, and yet her thighs quivered with the harsh emptiness between them.
    No words were spoken. The understanding of the moment was upon them.
    He tugged on her frayed flannel belt and pulled the robe aside, revealing all of her. By instinct, her hands went to her chest, but he pushed them aside, taking in every detail like a man who’d been starved.
    His mouth caught her large hardened nipple. The sensation made her delirious with want. His hand roughly cupped her other breast, and he moved to that nipple, unable to get enough of her.
    Her hands swept down his chest. The cool night air made his nipples hard and flat, but as he lay atop her, his back warmed by the fire, hisbody was a delicious study of temperatures. Cold and hot—just like his eyes, just like his expression.
    He kissed her, his teeth nipping at her tongue, his own tongue licking fire down to her soul. His hand stroked her face, then her vulnerable throat, his thumb sweeping the hollows with dark, sensual sweeps.
    His passion, however, was nothing less than white-hot. He groaned his readiness, his hips grinding instinctively into hers. She drummed the rock-hard muscles of his waist, driving him on to the end they both knew was coming. Cradling his head in her hands, she proved her own hunger by allowing him to sink between her thighs.
    Before she could take in another deep kiss, before she could breathe in his scent of horses and leather, he dived deep inside her, filling her to gasping.
    With any other man she might have protested the swiftness, the totality of his possession. But there was nothing to protest when her willingness to surrender transcended his plundering.
    He moved against her, slowly at first, his face mirroring all the sensations that she drank in. But soon his hunger got the best of him. His demanding nature won. He pulled on her lowerlip with his teeth, his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth much like his manhood, tempting, promising, fulfilling.
    Her desire built until she was at the precipice, his every movement painful in her need to hold back.
    But then the dam broke. Grabbing the arm of the couch, he slammed himself inside her as if he wanted to crawl in there