When dashing billionaire, Chase Drake, tells his assistant he won't lose control again and punish her, she's determined to prove him wrong. But he remains true to his word, frustrating her and making her wonder if the connection they had was all in her head.
After she misses the bus home, he offers to drive her, but a simple ride soon turns into an evening of wining and dining that culminates on her spending the night in his guest room.
When she hears him up in the middle of the night, her curiosity gets the best of her and she spies on him. Mr. Drake is hiding something, and discovering what it is may just result in the night of her life.
This is the second part of the "Billionaire's Beck and Call" series by best selling erotica author, Delilah Fawkes, and is 5400 words long.
My voice was soft, almost drowned out by the crackling of the flames, but I knew that he'd heard.
"Isabeau... It isn't that simple."
"What's complicated about it?"
I put my hands on my hips, and noticed his eyes raking over my curves, barely concealed by the thin robe.
"If you don't want me, I understand." My voice cracked a little, despite my wishes, and I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
He stood, then, towering over me, darkly sillhouetted against the flames.
"It's not that. God, Isabeau... you can't know what you do to me."
He moved close, close enough to hold me if that's what he wanted. If so, I wasn't going to stop him.
"Then what is it?" I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trailing along his arm until I reached his hand. He didn't pull away.
"You don't know what you're asking."
There was a moment of tension, so thick I could barely breathe, and then he closed the distance between us, grabbing me roughly, his lips crashing down on mine. His mouth was hot and urgent, making my knees shiver and my pussy heat. I moaned, opening my lips beneath his, and felt a surge of arousal course through me as his tongue met mine, searching, tasting, teasing...
I clutched the front of his shirt, wanting to rip it off, but not sure if it was okay, if it was proper. He broke the kiss, and looked at me like a wild animal, his eyes ravenous. I was afraid and nervous and more turned on than I'd ever been in my life.
"I can smell your need," he growled, and slipped a hand beneath my robe, cupping my sex. "You're on fire for me."
"Oh, God," I whispered. My core was so wet, so ready, and I felt my juices drip down onto his palm.
"Tell me you want this."
It wasn't a question.
"I... I want this."
That was all it took.
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