New York Billionaires Series

“We’re not,” Victor say.

“You go to clubs?” I ask.

Carter laughs. It’s a wonder to see him go from business to off-duty in so short a time span. “No. Not in years. But if our lady here wants to…”

“My lady,” Victor corrects him, and then shakes his head.

“Of course, your lady. And how the rest of us men weep at that. Cecilia, you look stunning tonight.”

He rises from the table and so do we, following him out into the cold New York air. Steven is waiting for us by the curb. The second we’re in the car, Victor presses the button to roll up the partition. It seals us into the backseat.

Victor reaches for my hand. “Feel,” he mutters, pressing it flat against his hard length. The outline is stark through his pants. “That’s what your no-panties stunt did to me.”

I feel lightheaded, power and desire rising like a wave inside me. “You liked that.”

He kisses me, a hard press of his lips on mine. I run my nails along his hardness and he gives a low hiss. “Cecilia…”

“Yes? Can I get you another coffee? Reschedule a meeting? Book your date with a new woman?”

“You’re punishing me,” he says.

“You said you didn’t object.”

In the darkness of the backseat, his eyes look almost black. “Oh, I don’t. But two can play this game.”

His hand grips the hem of my dress and tugs it up forcefully, the other pushing my legs apart. The shocked silence that follows is sweeter than candy. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You told the truth.”

“You didn’t believe me?”

“No. That’s why I tried to find out beneath the table.”

There’s a hoarseness in his voice I wouldn’t have believed it could hold, one that isn’t polished or controlled or restrained. It’s the Victor I saw in his grandfather’s study, the Victor who dared me to follow him at Nadine’s art show.

The Victor who wants with such burning intensity that all I want is let him consume me. I want to drive him to the edge.

And then I want to drive him straight over it.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

His fingers stroke the seam between my legs, the same motion I’m raking along the length in his pants. “Two more minutes,” he murmurs, “and I would have been doing this in the restaurant.”

My breath catches. “You wouldn’t have dared.”

“You know I would have.” His fingers part me, and then he bends down, putting his mouth right over my clit.

“Oh my God.” I find the thick strands of his hair, gripping. “Yes. Right there.”

There’s brief chuckle against my sensitive skin and then his lips return, tongue manipulating my clit back and forth. With this angle, it’s all he can do. But it’s also more than enough.

“I was going to seduce you,” I whisper.

Victor turns his head to look up at me, his beard scraping against my skin. “What do you think this is?”

“I succeeded?”

“You overperformed.”

He returns to the task at hand and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. Twice in two days, Victor has focused more on my pleasure than his own. It’s not what I would have expected. Perhaps it’s because he has to be in control, but if this is what Victor in control is like, well…

Bring it on.

A large, impatient hand on my knee spreads me wider and I give up any pretense of stroking him through his pants. There’s no room for concentration when he sucks my clit into his mouth. “Victor,” I whisper. “Victor, I can’t, not here.”

He doesn’t stop, and in the rising tide inside of me, my body says something different. It can, and it will. This is my husband. This is our car driving us home to our apartment. And it’s my pleasure to take.

So I dig my fingers into his hair and focus on nothing but the sensation of his tongue, flicking back and forth. “Like that.”

There’s a hum against my clit as he agrees, and a few seconds later, the orgasm sweeps over me. I turn my head against the headrest to keep from moaning, fingers tightening in his hair. He doesn’t stop licking me. Doesn’t take his mouth away until my legs relax against the leather seat and my hand slides out of his hair, resting on the nape of his neck.

“That’s right,” he murmurs. “You can’t tease me like that, Myers, if you can’t take the consequences.”

He presses a close-mouthed kiss to my sensitive clit. “Cecilia,” he agrees, and pulls the hem of my dress down.

Dazed, I look out the window. “We’re standing still.”

“We have been for a few minutes.”

“Oh. We’re home.”

“That we are,” Victor says. He reaches down and rearranges himself, a frown on his lips. “Can’t wait to get inside.”

“Inside what, exactly?”

His eyes light up. “Inside who, I think.” Victor knocks on the partition and raises his voice. “Night, Steven.”

A muffled voice comes from the other side. “Night, Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair.”

My cheeks burn. I’d forgotten him completely, but it seemed Victor hadn’t. And he’d still done what he did. “Oh my God,” I whisper to him, out on the sidewalk. “Steven just… he was there the whole time.”

“He didn’t hear or see a thing,” Victor says. His arm wraps around my waist and I’m half-carried, half-escorted through our lobby. Good thing, too, because my legs feel weak.

“Let’s give him a raise.”

“Will it ease your embarrassment?”

Victor slams the button to the elevator. “Then consider it done. Now come here.”

His kiss tastes like me and ignites the same fire he’d slaked just minutes earlier in the car. My body burns for his.

I’m the one who unlocks our apartment with the keycard tonight. Victor steps in behind me. Without letting myself hesitate, I push him against the closed front door. His eyes meet mine, but the flash of confusion turns to surprised approval when I drop to my knees.