The Billionaire’s Naughty List (Cam Show Crush)

7. Lily

7

LILY

I've never felt so powerful.

Not when I was a rodeo queen. Not when I slung hay bales at the ranch.

Making Elliot squirm and groan is the ultimate high. He's always been in a world of his own. Not just because of his business, but because of the way his brain works. Sure, he's silly and fun and funny. He laughs and jokes with me and my brothers. But he also gets lost in thought and sometimes I wonder where he goes.

Underneath the casual clothes and friendly smile is a world class brain I can't begin to comprehend.

But right now, in this minute, he's with me. Back down here on earth with us mere mortals. And I have zero doubts that all those lofty thoughts have boiled down to his most base urges.

I lick my way back to the tip of his cock and his lips part with expectation.

The first taste is salty, slightly tangy.

I sink down, taking the fat head into my mouth. His hand tightens against the back of my head and I relax into his touch, letting him show me what he needs.

With one hand braced against his thigh for balance and the other holding his cock at just the right angle, I slide my mouth up and down his shaft, using my tongue to tease the sensitive underside.

He's one long chorus of groans, a delightful symphony of lust.

"Oh, fuck. Kitten—" He releases me. "I'm going to come."

It's my turn to moan.

I've dreamed of worshiping his cock. Fantasized about all of it, from start to finish. Many times. Sometimes we’re in the shower, in the bed. One time, we were in the forest.

Those fantasies were missing some important details. Like the sting of my scalp when he grips my hair. The earthy scent of him that mingles with the crispness of detergent and deodorant. The way his thick shaft pulses between my lips.

So I suck harder and keep my tongue pressed against his sweet spot. His muscles tense and his head drops back against the tile. “Jes?—”

Part of me wants to do a touch down dance and gloat about making Elliot Rivers lose his cool. But the other half of me, the greedier side, wants to just see how much farther I can push him.

He looks down at me again, gaze soft. “You really like that, don’t you?”

I murmur my agreement, but it’s completely garbled.

There’s a flash of a smile, and then he’s sucking in another deep breath. He cups the side of my throat, his thumb stroking down over my pulse point.

“Can’t wait to feel you swallow.”

Feeling the challenge hovering between us, I take him as deep as I can and the instant he hits the back of my throat, he starts to unleash. Jet after jet of hot jizz hits my tongue and I jerk back, letting the flood fill my mouth. His hand is still on my throat as I swallow.

I wish I could see the look in his eyes, the ecstasy on his face, but I have no doubts because he’s still moaning. Lifting my head, I take a deep breath and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Fuck, Lily.”

He breathes hard, that hair-smattered chest heaving as he swipes a hand down his face and then runs it through his hair. I sit back on my heels, pretty pleased with myself. Smug even. He seems…shattered.

Like he wasn't expecting a blow job to be that good. Or maybe he wasn't expecting me to be that good?

"I don't want to know where you learned to do that." His tone is one quarter jealous, one quarter impressed, and fifty percent wonder.

"Oh?"

He pulls me up off the floor.

"It's better I don't think about it."

Hands flat on his chest, his half hard cock between us, I gaze up at him, seeing something I've never noticed on his face before.

Jealousy.

Elliot Rivers isn't a jealous man. Ambitious, sure. Competitive? Don't challenge him to chess if you want to win.

But this…

Why does the raw emotion make me so wet? It shouldn't. Jealousy isn't something I condone.

Reaching over, he turns off the water. Snagging a towel, he dries my skin gently, reverently. I close my eyes, making a memory of this moment. This exact moment when it’s cold and snowy outside, but quiet and romantic in here as the walls finally crumble between us.

I should tell him he doesn't have anything to worry about. Or that I've never given a blow job before, so he can put his mind at ease. But I'm enjoying this new broody, silent side where he's singly focused on drying me. Touching me everywhere, lingering, feeling me through the thick towel.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, keeping my voice soft.

"That I have no right to hate the thought of you with another man."

He really doesn't. But again, I'm not going to tell him that.

"I hate the thought of you with other women."

He swipes the towel down his face, over his chest, and then those dark eyes lock with mine. My stomach does a somersault.

"Up," he mutters, scooping me up.

I scramble up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, and for a moment, the world stands still. The gravity of the situation thrums heavy in my veins. The taste of him is fresh on my tongue and we're naked.

"You'll never have to worry about that again." His expression is completely serious.

"Promise?" The word comes out softer, more na?ve than I intended.

"Cross my heart."

We stare at each other for another beat. His scruff is growing in. And his hair is a little on the long side. Time for a trim. He's got a guy that comes to his office once a month.

I know all these things and yet, it all feels so new. Shakey and wondrous.

I've studied his lips covertly. Now I can stare openly.

I swear he's thinking the same thing because he stares at my lips even though he could be kissing them. And when I grin at him, he smiles back.

Then he's on the move, long legs eating up the space to the spacious bedroom.

"Tell me you want this,” he says. “Once I lay you down, I don't think I'll be strong enough to pry myself off of you again."

I tighten my legs, using the leverage to grind myself against his cock. He groans and I smile, feeling light and powerful again. "If you lay me down, I don't know that I'll let you out of that bed for days. We have a lot to make up for."

There's a quick inhale, followed by a hearty groan that sends a tingle across my skin. "You can't say things like that, Lily."

"Why not?" I rake my fingers through his hair, reveling in the ability to touch him.

Is this all a dream? Where I finally get to live out my fantasy? My most forbidden desires?

Emotions flash across his face. A face I know as well as my own. He's got laugh lines, which I love, and that salt and pepper thing going on that makes me swoony.

Confusion, desire, awe, and fierce need flick like changing TV channels through me.

"I'm going to be honest with you?—"

"You'd better?—"

"From here on out?—"

"No more secrets, Elliot. No more half truths. I can't take it."

There's a long pause and in those precious seconds, I feel everything shift. From candy coated fantasy to real and serious. It's wild to be having this conversation while naked, wrapped around him like a horny little koala.

Then again… Maybe this was what was missing before.

There's nowhere to hide right now. There's no sense in denying how hard my nipples are. How wet I am. How much I want him—this—us. And there's no way he could deny the steel hard length currently nestled between my pussy lips like he has no intention of leaving.

"You're getting my hopes up," he murmurs.

"Same."

"I don't deserve you." He tips his forehead against mine.

I give his hair a gentle tug. "I think you do."