Free Power Play (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) by Mallery Malone

threw back his head, the tendons of his neck standing out, his body rigid as her sheath welcomed him. “God, Macy,” he groaned. “Good, so damn good. Missed you so damn much.”
    She felt the mattress dip as he dug his knees into bedding, his hands planted on either side of her head. Desire ignited an inferno inside her as she watched him dance between being restraint and being unchained, between holding on and letting go, calling a similar response from her. She surrendered to it, surrendered to Raphael, to his mastery and his skill and his care, knowing that he’d catch her when she fell.
    Keeping her gaze locked to his, she watched the passion play across his beautiful features, watched him bite his lip as he slowly withdrew and then just as slowly reentered her. He repeated the exquisite movement, stealing her breath each time. She wrapped her arms andlegs tighter about him, moving against him, with him, cradling him with her body, giving him permission to let go. Let go he did, sinking down onto his elbows, molding his body to hers. He drove into her with sensual precision, speeding them both toward the peak of pleasure. Her orgasm ambushed her a heartbeat later. She came with a keening cry, caught up in a white-hot ecstasy that rocketed her up and out into a sea of transcendental delight. A heartbeat later Raphael shouted, slamming into her once, twice, three times before he came inside her still-spasming sheath.
    * * *
    Raphael had never come so hard or so long in his life. For a long moment he remained locked in place, hands tightly gripping the mattress as he pulsed deep inside Macy’s welcoming heat. The blissful expression she wore called to everything male in him, making him want to roar with satisfaction.
    Shaken, he got up to get rid of the condom and clean himself up in the en suite bathroom. Wetting a washcloth, he returned to the bed to find Macy where he’d left her languidly sprawled in the center of the bed, eyes closed with a small smile curving her kiss-swollen lips.
    Awed by her and her response, he tended to her. “Come back to me, angel,” he murmured, cradling her close. “Come on back now.”
    She blinked at him, awareness returning slowly as she stretched like a kitten in his embrace. “Raphael,” she breathed, “that was … that was—”
    “Mind-blowing. Incredible.” Unable to help himself, he kissed her softly, tasting her fully. “Beautiful.”
    “Yeah. All of that.” She gave a soft laugh as she gazed up at him. “I think you killed me with orgasms. Pretty sure I heard angels singing at one point.”
    “That was all you,” he said, turning them so she straddled his lap. “Music to my ears.”
    She pressed a light kiss to his shoulder. “When can we do it again?”
    His cock jerked at the thought of a repeat performance. “It’s still early yet. Do you think you’ll be up for more after dinner?”
    “I don’t know. What about tomorrow?” she asked, then bit her bottom lip. “Will we have a tomorrow?”
    Her uncertainty cut at him. He drew her closer, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. “We’ll have tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.”
    He knew he shouldn’t promise something he wasn’t sure he was capable of delivering. But if his surging dick was any indication, he hadn’t had his fill of Macy Lovelace yet. If he was honest with himself, he knew he never would. He and Macy had belonged to each other since they were twelve. She was his, and he’d be damned if he’d let her share this with any other man ever again.
    “Okay,” she said, and for a moment he wondered if he’d claimed her aloud. But she dropped her gaze, her hands knotted together between them. “Before we go any further, there’s something that I need to tell you.”
    “That sounds serious.”
    She pulled away to look at him, the brilliant green of her eyes dull with worry. “It is.”
    “Maybe we should go see what we can do about dinner. You can tell me