The Billionaires’ Prize (The Heiress Merger #2)

13. Katherine

13

KATHERINE

“How was your shower?” Alex leans in close, and we’re alone, trapped in our lust bubble.

My body is on alert, utterly aware of Alex’s massive frame and just how alive I feel next to him.

Does he know what happened between me and Kingston? Can he tell how swollen my lips are?

I’m still hot from the shower, cheeks pink and slightly whisker-burned. All of which I love.

Alex’s attention flicks between me and Kingston. He stares at my best friend, those keen brown eyes taking in every detail.

I suck in a breath.

For a moment, I forgot how watchful he is. How observant.

“It was nice. Refreshing.”

He stares at my lips, and my stomach does a somersault.

“You look happy.” That seems to please him.

“I do?” Does he think about that?

I melt a little.

He nods and lifts my wrist for another bite of pizza. His forearms are tan with a smattering of black hair, but it’s those long, blunt-tipped fingers have the power to make me lose my train of thought.

“That’s because I am,” I admit, the truth settling in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this content before. Leaning into Alex, nomming on yummy pizza, Gabe and King narrating a hockey game in the background. . . my apartment is full. Cozy and intimate and wonderful.

My father and brother are die-hard hockey fans. They love other sports as well, anything outdoorsy or competitive, really. This is a facet of Gabriel Rothburn I didn’t see coming. Which I’m sure delights Kingston because my interest in sports leans more toward ice dancing and gymnastics.

“Nah, man. No way! You’re wrong,” King says, waving his fork around, a cherry tomato teetering on the tines.

I look around for napkins and don’t see a single one. Shocker.

Alex and I get up at the same time.

“What do you need? I’ll get it,” I say, striding around the couch. When I turn back, he’s hot on my heels. Big, silent, stealthy. How does he manage it?

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, and surprise makes me stumble a step.

His hand shoots out to cup my elbow, steadying me. I’m not used to being taken care of. There’s a difference between growing up surrounded by staff and having someone in your corner. Someone who wants to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, not because it’s their job, but because they care.

I huff a laugh and step deeper into the kitchen. “I can get it,” I tell him as I open a drawer where I keep a small tray of napkins.

The instant I close the drawer, I feel Alex’s heat surround me. He steps in close, the spice of his cologne teasing my nose. A big hand appears on either side of me, braced against the edge of the countertop.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, nuzzling the back of my head.

Oh god. Yes.

A shiver tingles up my spine and into my scalp.

I want him to miss me. It’s human nature to be desired. To be missed. But this is more. A bone-deep ache I can’t even put it into words. Instead, I stand rooted to the floor, shivering with need.

“I missed you too.”

“Six hours,” he mutters, as if it’s an offensive amount of time. “What the hell have you done to me, Katie Bird? I can’t be without you for six hours.”

I lean into him, his powerful body holding me upright, and trail my hands up his forearms. He changed into a suit and apparently came straight from his meeting because his jacket has been discarded and his shirt sleeves rolled up.

It’s decadent to touch him like this. Tracing my fingertips over his veins. I press my head back against him, nestling into his hold.

“Same.”

A low sound rumbles from his chest, and he presses a palm over my lower belly. That’s all it takes to make me wet again. I’m still blissed out, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting him.

“Are you still dripping with our best friends’ cum?”

His naughty words are a gasoline to the fire. Heat scorches my cheeks, down my shoulders and across my skin. I like it. I like how unvarnished and real he is. I like how he says exactly what he’s thinking. But mostly, I like how my body softens and readies itself for him.

“Yes.”

“How many times did they make you come while I was gone?”

I tremble in his hold. There’s no judgment in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

Is it really possible that they’re all okay with this. . . whatever this is? That they all want me like I want them? Maybe I should stop second-guessing it, but you know what they say when something seems too good to be true.

“I lost count,” I admit, my body still humming from all the orgasms.

He works his fingers beneath my clothing as if he’s been practicing his whole life and traces lazy shapes against my skin. “Good.”

My mouth drops open. That’s so hot.

His finger slips beneath the elastic of my panties, drawing a line straight down to my clit. He circles it once. Twice. Just enough to tease before he continues south, the thick digit sliding through the moisture coating my lower lips.

My panties are sopping wet. There’s no way he doesn’t feel it. It’d be so embarrassing if I didn’t know he gets off on it. But he’s hard as stone at my back.

Gathering the wetness on the pad of his finger, he pushes it back inside my pussy as a soft groan rumbles from his chest.

His quiet confidence rubs off on me and fills me to the brim with a self-assurance that soothes my soul. You’d think that growing up with unimaginable privilege would make you feel untouchable. But I found the opposite was true.

This man is rebuilding me one touch at a time.

I press my hips back into his lap. He’s hard and ready and gives a soft grunt as I make contact. I love his warmth and the way he surrounds me. My breaths come in needy pants, and my skin is hypersensitive, craving every touch.

Slowly, I turn in his embrace and crane my neck to look up at him. He’s got the look of a lazy lover, a man who’s content and knows his woman wants him.

Does she ever.

“I want to make you feel as good as I do,” I whisper.

A dark brow lifts along with the corner of his oh-so-kissable mouth.

“How good?”

For a man of so few words, I can tell he’s making conversation to please me. To turn me on.

“Very,” I say and press a kiss to his chest, just above his heart. “Very.” Sliding my hand up his neck to his nape, I press up on my tiptoes. He ducks his head, and I brush my lips against his in a seductive kiss that leaves us both wanting more. “Good.”

He groans and hauls me close as he takes two steps back and leans against the counter. I rain kisses across his cheeks, chin, and throat.

“We have to be quiet,” I murmur, jerking my head toward the living room. It’s not that I don’t want Gabe and Kingston joining in.

Just thinking about that sends a thrill through me.

But right now, it’s just me and Alex enjoying each other. Playing a game, a role, where we have to be quiet so no one hears.

And, smart man that he is, he knows what I’m getting at. Nods and reaches between us to undo his pants.

Feeling bold and hot all over, I tug down his zipper. He sucks in a breath, and I grin because making this stoic giant shudder is quickly becoming my favorite thing.

Reaching inside the warm layers, I wrap my hand around his length.

Holy smokes.

I bite back a moan at the velvety texture. The scorching heat. The way his cock pulses beneath my fingers.

How did I take all that inside me?

Sinking to my knees, I tug his pants and boxers down to reveal his massive shaft. It’s long and thick, proudly pointing toward the ceiling.

My mouth waters. I’ve never been into blow jobs, but with him, I’m all in. He clamps his hands over the edge of the counter and widens his stance, making room for me between his feet.

His skin is tawny, and a dark nest of curls surrounds his prominent package. He smells like zesty body wash and need. Hot, musky man.

Excitement hums through me as I slide my palms up his muscular thighs. They twitch beneath my touch. I stare up his gorgeous body to the soft gray of his crisply pressed button-up shirt and the inky black tie. And somehow, being on my knees makes me feel powerful.

He came to the kitchen to get me a beverage, and boy-oh-boy, am I getting a different thirst quenched by this tall drink of water.

I trace a line down the underside of his cock with my thumb, watching closely for every spot that makes him shudder.

This is different from every other sexual encounter I’ve had. This is about Alex’s pleasure and about how desperately I want to make him feel good. And desired. And appreciated.

I lean close, blowing hot air over the tip. There’s a liquid pearl gathered in the slit, and I swipe it with my tongue. He groans and I shoot a look at him.

He smirks down at me, both cocky and needy. Then he twists, reaching behind him and grabs a wooden spoon from the crock. He clamps it between his teeth and shoots me a look that singes my socks.

He’s probably over estimating my skills in this department, but I give an eyebrow wiggle. Good man.

Hoping he’s got a handle on his vocals, I open my lips and suck him deep. His eyes widen, and his muscles vibrate, almost as if they’re moaning even as he remains silent. The connection between us is electric, arcing back and forth. I stroke his length with my tongue and then drop my gaze, twisting my mouth around the tip.

This is what we needed. A few moments alone, for me to remind him I want him. That I can’t get enough. That we’re in this now and he’s essential. That his pleasure is just as important as my own.

Sucking him deeper, I take a breath and relax, focusing on letting myself take him. It works. The crown bumps the back of my throat. I breathe through it. Nose tingling and eyes watering, I battle back the sensation of invasion.

He’s invading me in the best way.

Body and soul.

Alex cups the back of my head, massaging my scalp with gentle fingers.

I take him deeper. Fractions of an inch feel huge. My lips stretch wide, my jaw aches and saliva pools.

But it’s worth it.

Pulling back, I open my eyes. His cock glistens, and his fingers tighten in my hair. I meet his gaze, feeling the intensity crackle.

I give a few bobs of my head, then I sink down, wrapping my hands around his base, dropping one to cup his sac.

His other hand joins the first in my hair, holding me tight, and I melt into his touch. He’s got me.

I’m making a mess of my panties. Who knew giving a BJ could be such incredible foreplay. Even though my pussy is now well-loved and even a little tired, she wants this man. This magnificent cock.

But I want him to blow across my tongue and fight to stay quiet at the same time. My lips curve into a smirk just imagining it.

I gently tighten my grip on his balls, and his hips shoot forward. I nod up at him and relax my mouth. He needs no explanation.

I inhale, and he takes over, holding my head and thrusting his hips. His cock shuttles in and out of my mouth until my saliva dribbles down my chin. My eyes water as he presses against the back of my throat.

Do it.

You sure, his lifted brows ask.

I nod again, and he sucks in a breath, then repositions a hand to clasp my cheek. His hands are so big that his thumb curls beneath my chin, tipping it up until I’m at the perfect angle.

His hips pull back, and his cock drags over my tongue. I tease him, licking and flicking. It’s amazing how responsive he is. How his flesh pulsates against my lips.

Then he slides deep.

I love the way he holds still, watching me, checking in, waiting for a correction. When I don’t give him one, he pulls out again.

In. Out. Until my eyes water. He holds me, gentle but firm, doing all the work. All I can do is stay on my knees and keep my right hand locked around his base and suck until my cheeks are hollow.

He grunts but cuts off the sound as his hips still. Cum floods my tongue, pouring down my throat. I swallow his salty essence, milking his shaft with my fist. His fingers tighten in my hair and the bliss on his face makes me feel ten feet tall.

I roll his balls between my fingers, and his hips jerk back and then forward. He sucks in a sharp breath as another spurt hits the back of my throat. Hell yes. His thumb traces my neck as I swallow.

This is pleasure. Messy and unpolished. His touch lets me know just how sated he is, just how much he enjoyed himself. It’s like a thank you and a pat on the back mixed with an I-can’t-wait-to-return-the-favor rolled into one.

Then his hands soften and he pulls his cock out, collapsing against the cabinets. I slump down on the floor and wipe my face with the back of my hand.

Totally unladylike.

Totally worth it.

His chest heaves and he stares down at me, brown eyes hooded. I love the way his nostrils flare. He removes the spoon from his mouth, and I grin at the teeth marks adorning the handle. I’ll never be able to cook spaghetti again without remembering the look in his eyes and his taste on my tongue.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Gabe’s voice has us whipping our heads toward the other end of the kitchen.

My cheeks heat with a flare of embarrassment that immediately shifts to desire.

King stands next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, they’re still fully clothed but obviously turned on.

“Do we get a turn?” King asks, hands hovering over the button of his jeans.