One Midnight Kiss: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Holiday Romance
One Midnight Kiss: Chapter 28

Every rational part of me screamed that this was a mess, a beautifully disastrous mess. But as I pulled away from that second, earth-shattering kiss, I couldn’t muster the will to care. Here was a man who saw straight past the polished veneer of the high-powered executive, to the real, often-frayed edges of Natalia Dawkins. He saw me. All of my flaws and bullshit. He saw it and he clearly liked it.

I pressed my forehead against his, catching my breath, my heart slamming against my ribs. “We’re going to regret this,” I muttered, not sure if I was warning him or myself.

He smiled, that lopsided grin that I hated and loved at the same time. “I can live with the regret. You know you’ve been thinking about this. I know I sure as hell have. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I want to taste you again, Natalia. I want to hear you cry out in pleasure. We barely scratched the surface with what I can do to your body. You have a lot of orgasms to make up for. Let me help you.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. There was something wildly intoxicating about the way he spoke. There was no pretense, no barriers, just raw and unnerving desire. I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but found none. Only the same fierce longing that was burning through my body.

I heard the little voice in the back of my head telling me to get up and walk away. I knew it was what I should do, but I couldn’t. He made some promises, and I wanted to let him follow through.

He put his laptop on the coffee table and turned back to me. Without giving me a chance to say anything, he grabbed me. His hands went to my sides and pulled me in for another scorching kiss.

As his lips met mine once more, I melted against him. The stress and restrictions I put on myself dissolved under his touch. In his arms, every carefully built boundary seemed insignificant. I found myself wanting to tear down those walls, brick by brick, and just break free.

His hands roamed over my back. Each touch sparked tiny fires that flared and spread through my veins. With one smooth motion, he lifted me off the floor. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing us impossibly closer. He walked us toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss. My skirt was hiked up almost to my waist, like it had a mind of its own.

He gently put me down on the edge of the bed, then reached for my sweater and pulled it over my head. I stood to face him and let him unzip my bunched-up skirt. As it fell to the floor, I kicked off my heels and tore off his shirt. I groaned when I saw all that beautiful skin. My mouth went straight to his chest, eager to devour him.

His skin tasted like salt and spice, every muscle defined beneath my lips as I explored him. He hissed when I bit down gently on his collarbone. His hands tangled in my hair to bring me closer. The air in the room seemed to pulse with the intensity of our need, each touch and kiss stoking a fire that threatened to consume us both.

I pushed his pants down, making sure I hooked the band of his underwear on the way down his hips. His hard cock sprang free, begging for attention. I dropped to my knees in front of him as I pushed the pants down to his ankles.

I wrapped one hand around his throbbing shaft and looked up at him. He looked down at me with a hint of surprise, but it was more about desire. He was silently begging me to do it. I took him in my mouth, savoring the taste of him, the absolute power of having this man unraveling under my touch. His fingers tightened in my hair as he groaned.

“Natalia,” he breathed out, a plea and a curse all mingled in one. My name on his lips felt like a victory, a sweet, illicit thrill that spurred me on. I increased the pressure, watching him throw his head back, his throat working as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.

The first time we were together, he was the one to give me all the pleasure. Now, I held the power. I was making him groan and curse. I sucked harder, sliding my hand down his cock and grabbing his balls.

He let out a strangled moan, his body tensing as pleasure surged through him. He looked at me, his eyes glazed with lust and vulnerability. He was completely at my mercy.

I sucked harder, my mouth sliding up and down. Slurping noises filled the room, mingling with his grunts and groans. I kept going. His fingers pulled at my hair. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to get me to stop or encouraging me to keep going.

I was going to take him all the way. I wanted to hear him beg, to see him undone by my actions. I intensified my efforts, taking him deeper, pushing us both toward the brink of oblivion. His hands were everywhere now, urging me on one moment and trying to hold back the next, as if he was battling with himself as much as with the rising tide of his own release.

“Natalia!”

He tried to pull me up, but I stayed put. He groaned as he exploded in my mouth. His body shuddered with each pulse. I slowly eased up, swallowing every last drop before gently releasing him from my mouth. I stood up, wiping my lips, a smirk on my lips as I saw the utterly spent look on his face. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes were filled with a mix of astonishment and admiration.

Fox cupped my face in his hands, his touch tender now, as if he was handling something precious. “You’re incredible,” he murmured.

He spun me around and pushed me gently down on the bed and onto my stomach.

He unhooked my bra and then slid his hand down my spine. I looked over my shoulder at him standing above me. He grabbed at my panties and pulled. I lifted my hips and let him take them off. His hand stroked over my bare ass. It was almost reverent. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder and then slid his tongue across the back of my neck to my other shoulder.

He trailed kisses down my spine, each contact igniting a new wave of anticipation. Every whisper of his breath caressed my skin. He took his time kissing my back and down to the base of my spine. It was like being brushed with a feather. He wasn’t touching me with his hands, but he had me on the brink of ecstasy. It was tantalizing.

“Turn over,” he commanded, his voice rough with need.

I obeyed, flipping myself onto my back to look up at him. He swept his gaze over me, taking in every curve with an intimacy that made my heart race.

Fox climbed onto the bed, kneeling over me. His mouth started at my earlobe and moved down.

He nibbled and kissed his way along my jawline, his breath hot and urgent against my skin. As he reached my neck, his lips lingered there, sucking lightly, biting just enough to send shivers down my spine. My hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles as he moved.

Fox’s mouth continued its journey downward, tracing a line of fire over my collarbone and pausing at the valley between my breasts. I was ready to explode, and he had yet to touch me where I was desperate for him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against my skin.

His fingers traced a thrilling path down the side of my torso, causing me to gasp as I arched toward his touch. I felt his mouth twitch against my skin with a smug smile before he proceeded to lavish attention on my breasts. His tongue circled each nipple, his teeth grazing lightly, pulling soft whimpers of pleasure from my lips.

I gripped the blanket beneath me, the sensations rolling through me in powerful waves. My breath hitched when he pinched and rolled one sensitive nipple. His other hand followed the trail his mouth had taken moments ago. The anticipation was maddening, making me squirm beneath him. The long build-up was beginning to reach unbearable levels. I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.

His hand moved between my legs. He cupped my pussy, his fingers tracing the heat and dampness he found there. He looked into my eyes as he pushed a finger into me. My hips bucked at the sensation, my hands gripping his shoulders as a low groan escaped me.

His mouth moved down to my stomach. His kisses sent shockwaves all throughout my body. His fingers began to move inside me, slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of his kisses. I could barely breathe.

“Fox,” I pleaded breathlessly. I needed more. I needed him.

The pad of his thumb pushed against my clit. A gasp ripped from my throat as pleasure ricocheted through me. My fingernails dug into his shoulders. He bent his head, capturing my nipple between his teeth while his fingers kept up their intimate caress.

“Fox, please,” I moaned, the desperation in my voice reaching a fever pitch. Every touch, every stroke of his fingers was making my body coil tighter. I wanted him, needed him inside me.

“All in good time,” he murmured against my skin. He was purposely teasing me. I could feel my body spiraling toward an orgasm. It amazed me that he could make it happen with such ease after I had struggled to achieve release before him.

The man was magic.

His fingers pushed deeper into me. They ignited a fire, raw and wild. I was desperate, my body twisting underneath his touch.

“Are you ready?” he murmured, the sound vibrating against my skin, making my pulse quicken. This was torture of the sweetest kind. The pressure inside me was building to a crescendo. My hands clung to his shoulders.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Please. “

He pulled away and quickly grabbed a condom. He tore the packet open with his teeth and rolled it onto himself. His eyes stayed on mine as he positioned himself at my entrance. I clawed at his arms, essentially begging him to fill me. He chuckled softly.

The moment of agonizing anticipation stretched on until he pushed into me achingly slow. A gasp slipped from my lips as a wave of almost painful pleasure cascaded through me. He was so deep inside me, filling me completely. He started to move, driving me closer to the edge.

I held on for dear life. It felt like it happened within seconds. The orgasm exploded through me in an earth-shattering burst. My screams drowned out the world, my vision blurring in pleasure.

He moved with me through the storm, his own face contorted with ecstasy. He matched my rhythm, each thrust pushing me into a blissful oblivion until he stiffened above me, groaning my name in release as warmth spilled from him.

For a moment we stayed connected, both of us struggling to catch our breath. I couldn’t believe he made me feel so good.

He rolled off me but kept me close to him. His skin was damp with perspiration. I turned my face and kissed his chest.

“I should go,” I said.

“Just stay.”

I hadn’t spent the night in bed with anyone else in years and it felt incredibly safe. This was quickly becoming a habit. A habit I didn’t want to break, but did anyone ever really want to break a habit when it made them feel so good?