If You Want Me: The Magister Series Book 1: A Billionaire Romance

by July Hall

  “How can you tell?”

  Hadn’t he wanted her to stop thinking? “I just…I just can.” But who cared what it was? She spread her legs wider and arched her hips. “God, that feels amazing.”

  He glanced down between them, a devilish gleam in his eyes as he watched his own fingers moving in and out of her. “It looks amazing.”

  In a small voice, Sandra said, “Can you do three?” He looked at her with wide eyes. “I want to know what it feels like.”

  “Christ,” he breathed, slipping his fingers out and then carefully going back inside with three. “How’s that?”

  She closed her eyes and focused on it. It wasn’t as thrilling as when he played with her clit, but there was something so intimate about it. It was the same hand she’d held on the beach. “I love it,” she said, and sighed when he began to move his fingers slowly back and forth. “Oh, yeah. What’s it like for you?”

  She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say—how amazing could it really be, just your fingers inside somebody?—but it wasn’t, “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” She opened her eyes to see that he was looking at her face, not his hand. “You’re so sensual, so responsive.”

  Sandra licked her lips self-consciously. “I never was before.” It was true. Ice princess, snow queen. Even when she’d been dazzled by Bradley, it hadn’t been like this.

  She was actually glad Charles wasn’t her first. Otherwise she would never have appreciated how good this was. Would she have been spoiled, thinking that chemistry like this was normal between two people?

  “How is that possible?” he asked, looking back down at his hand and sounding reverent when he added, “You were made for this.”

  Not for this. For you. The thought stunned her, and she gasped even as a thrill ran through her entire body. But it was true.

  It was too much. He was overwhelming. She had to do something to him, now, get back some kind of control. She’d tried earlier, back in the sitting area, but he’d stopped her.

  Now she whispered, “Come here,” and reached between them to put her hand on his cock. His breath caught, and she began stroking him up and down in a leisurely rhythm that made his face flush.

  “A handjob?” he said in a strained voice. “That takes me back.”

  “Jeez,” Sandra said, unable to stop a smile. “You really don’t have a lot of fun, do you?” She tightened her grip.

  He sighed and pushed his hips forward, at the same time thrusting his fingers deeper inside her. “Oh!” Sandra gasped.

  Charles slid his fingers out of her immediately. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes!” Sandra said, wondering if it would be tacky to let go of his dick and grab his hand so he’d do that again. She tried to collect herself instead. She’d wanted to do something to him, so…

  And what fun was a dry handjob, anyway? Sandra couldn’t stop her sudden, mischievous smile. He raised his eyebrows, but before he could speak, she reached down between her thighs and began rubbing her palm over herself, lathering her hand with her own moisture. Her eyes fell shut at the exquisite pressure. Don’t come, she chanted to herself, not yet…

  Charles made a soft, choking noise.

  He made it a second time when Sandra wrapped her slick hand around his cock and began stroking him again. “Is that better?” she asked sweetly.

  “Fuck,” Charles panted, looking down between them. He began thrusting his hips, watching his cock moving back and forth in her grip. Sandra watched too, and saw the fluid appear at his tip, dripping over her hand. “Sandra, that’s—”

  A pretty half-assed job, Sandra decided, reaching down with her other hand to cup and stroke his balls. “Oh my God,” Charles moaned. More fluid dripped from his tip. He rocked his hips back and forth, biting his lip and digging his hands into the bed sheets.

  “Do you do this to yourself much?” she heard herself ask. It seemed like a fair question. Especially if it had been “quite some time” since he’d had a woman over.

  “Very…rarely,” Charles said between his teeth.

  Sandra’s hands went still in surprise. “Really?” He glared at her, and she winced. “Sorry. That just seems like such a waste.” She squeezed again. Be the temptress. She dared to say, “Your cock is beautiful. I enjoy it so much.”

  Charles gave a rough, breathless laugh. “It’s fond of you, too.” Then he closed his eyes and sighed as she slid the pad of her thumb over his crown again.

  Okay, this was sort of...unexpected. Charles was indefatigable in bed. He fucked her like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. Nothing had turned him off so far. He obviously loved sex.

  But he hadn’t wanted to ask her for a blowjob, or ask her for anything, now that she thought about it. He didn’t sleep around. And now she learned he didn’t even jerk off? Why would he deny his needs like that?

  She wasn’t about to break the mood by asking now. If he was full of pent-up passion, for whatever reason, then she might as well reap the benefits and save the mystery for later. Instead, she rubbed her palm over herself again, seeking more lubrication.

  He watched her, breathing more quickly. “What about you? Do you?”

  Sandra trembled at the lust in his eyes. Okay, maybe she couldn’t point fingers. She’d spent so many mornings deliberately not doing that, thanks to the man in this bed. “I have a vibrator,” she said huskily. “It does the job.”

  “I’m sure.” He passed his hand over her forehead to smooth her hair out of the way. “No doubt you’re very efficient.” For punishment, Sandra began stroking the little slit with her thumb, coaxing out more fluid. His hips jerked and he gasped. Yeah, she’d show him efficient.

  She could show him.

  “Would you like to watch me sometime?” she whispered, not believing her own daring. She could never have asked any of her other boyfriends that.

  Charles’s mouth went slack. Then he said hoarsely, “You’d make yourself come for me?”

  “Yeah.” She began to stroke him more rapidly. “Would you like to see that?”

  “Fuck, yes,” he groaned. “Yes, Sandra. At least—” He managed a wry smile. “At least until I had to take over.”

  He would, too. “You’re very bossy.” She circled her thumb around the head of his cock, smearing the moisture. He hissed. “Maybe I wouldn’t let you. Maybe I’d say you had to keep your grabby hands to yourself.” Yeah, right. She couldn’t really imagine a world where she didn’t want Charles’s hands all over her, all the time.

  “You aren’t that cruel.” Charles stroked his knuckles down her throat and across her shoulder. To her astonishment, the look in his eyes became softer. “You aren’t cruel at all. You’re generous and kind and…” He kissed her cheek and the corner of her mouth. “And sweet. Ah, God.” His cock twitched in her grip. “You are so sweet.”

  Something inside her started to melt. His words had suffused her with warmth. Not just the words, but the tone he’d spoken in—tender, even fond. Somehow, for just a few moments, that meant everything. Absolutely everything.

  Sandra let go of his cock. He made a plaintive sound of protest that faded when she wrapped her arms around him and parted her legs wider, rubbing herself against him to let him know what she wanted. She needed to be with him, joined to him in the closest way she knew.

  “Yes,” Charles hissed. “Yes, now.” She didn’t expect him to pull away from her, tugging on her arms so that they were both sitting up on the bed. “Like this,” he said. He sat cross-legged and cupped her ass, lifting her up over him. He was so aroused that his cock stood straight at attention against his hard stomach. Oh, what a good idea.

  “Yeah,” Sandra whimpered, straddling his lap again. She couldn’t stop looking into his eyes. She never wanted to stop doing that. He looked right back, biting his lip as she got herself into just the right position.

  Then Sandra sank down on his cock as slowly as she dared. It wasn’t like last night. His three fingers had
prepared her perfectly, and she could take the time to savor it now as he entered her.

  He wasn’t wearing a condom. Too overwhelmed by everything else, she hadn’t thought about that last night. Today, though, she reveled in the hot velvet of his bare flesh as it slid inside her. No latex, just him, easing into her body like he belonged there.

  In the back of her mind, in the tiny part that was still capable of reason, Sandra thought about how she trusted him. He’d said that he that he was clean, but Bradley had said the same, and he might have lied. So how could she…wasn’t it stupid to…

  But he wasn’t Bradley. He was Charles, and lies like that were beneath him.

  She wasn’t even breathing as she came to rest on him, fully sheathed. Big. Warm. That tiny part of her brain shut the hell up.

  Charles panted into the curve of her throat while she settled herself. His fingertips pressed so hard into the flesh of her back that she knew he’d leave marks. “Sandra,” he groaned.

  “Open your eyes,” she said. He did. They were dark with desire. “Emeralds,” she heard herself whisper.

  He closed them again and took in a deep, controlled breath, and tried to relax his grip on her back. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  Sandra knew how he felt. She remembered last night in front of the fire—the need in his eyes had been too much to bear. “I can’t help it,” she choked, stroking her thumbs over the bristle on his cheeks. “You feel so good.”

  “Christ.” He pressed a hard kiss between her breasts. “Sweet…so sweet…”

  She shivered. He wasn’t sweet. He was hot and hungry, but he wasn’t sweet. “God, Charles,” she whispered, “please.”

  “Yes.” He ran his hands over her back and took a deep breath. He seemed to be reaching for control. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I just want this.” She rolled her hips a little and her breath hitched. So warm and hard inside her… “I just want you.” Any way she could get him.

  “You must want more.” He cupped her breasts, kneading them roughly. “Tell me. I’ll give it to you. Tell me.”

  “Just you,” Sandra repeated, kissing him. They were nearly of a height like this. He had little room to thrust, but she’d never been so deeply penetrated. Had she thought the touch of his hand was intimate? It was nothing compared to this.

  He slid both hands into her hair. “There must be more,” he whispered between kisses. “I need to know.” He pressed his lips against her shoulder as he gently began to rock his hips in short, shallow thrusts. Oh God, that felt amazing. “I’ll give you anything.”

  “This is enough,” Sandra insisted. “It’s perfect.” Sudden insecurity crept into her bliss. Maybe he was asking because he wasn’t getting what he wanted. “Is…isn’t it enough for you?”

  “No.” He was looking at her again. He touched her face, looking into her eyes as if he could see her every desire. “I can’t seem to get enough of you at all.”

  Time stopped. The melting feeling inside her grew until it was so sweet it hurt. It felt like a miracle, it felt like the first springtime she remembered, watching flowers bloom out of the earth after the frost. How could something so beautiful make her heart ache so much?

  “Oh God,” Sandra gasped, hiding her face in his throat.

  He went still. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she managed against his skin. “It’s good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” He began to move again, and she groaned. He filled her so completely. It was so much, too much, and yet… “Don’t ever stop!”

  “Never,” he rasped, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he ever had. “Oh, darling.” He began to move faster. “Never. Oh, Sandra!”

  “Come in me. That’s what I want.” Then she could be enough, just for a little while. Remembering what it had done to him last night, she began to clench on him again. He cried out. “That’s what I want. Don’t you?”

  “I—oh God—” Faster and faster. Sandra tried to match his pace, rocking with him, feeling him growing even harder inside her. He was close.

  Then he leaned back, changing the angle just enough so that he could reach between them to find her clit. Sandra wailed at the sudden spasm of pleasure.

  “Yes,” he growled. “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Jesus,” Sandra sobbed, writhing on him, so wet she was dripping. She heard the slick sound of flesh on flesh. “Yes, I want it, I want…don’t stop!”

  He began to pinch and knead her clit in time with his thrusts. Sandra bucked forward into his touch, so turned on that she thought she might actually combust. How did he always know when she needed it rough? And then he latched his mouth onto her nipple, sucking hard.

  She shattered, convulsing around him and crying her release. Fuck, oh fuck. Her whole body seemed reduced to the sensations in her breasts and her cunt. She was coming, and it was so good, and she still gasped, “Please, please!”

  “Yes,” Charles panted. “Tell me!”

  She dug her nails into his skin. How had he done this? How had he just walked into her life and, within a single week, turned everything upside down without even trying—how fucking dare he?

  Vengefully, she sank her teeth into his shoulder. She’d leave her own mark. He froze.

  Then he climaxed with a shout, pouring himself into her. He sounded so abandoned that it pushed Sandra over the edge again. He didn’t even need to touch her. They came together, him pulsing inside her while she clenched around him.

  “Charles!” she cried. And for a brilliant moment, it was perfect, it was enough.

  Their trembling subsided, and he caught her when she slumped against him. Moaning softly, he cradled her against his chest. She dragged her fingertips through the dark hair there. Maybe they really were the only two people in the world.

  Such a perfect moment couldn’t last. It was already over, and now she was left alone with her feelings, feelings he couldn’t possibly share. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t even know what to call them.

  She had an awful suspicion, though.

  Charles slipped out of her with a groan, followed by the drip of come, his and hers, over the sheets. Sandra squeaked in embarrassment, but he simply rolled both of them over away from the wet spot. The bed had plenty of room.

  They lay together, panting and naked. Sandra felt like she’d been stripped bare in more ways than one. He didn’t seem to notice her distress as he held her close.

  After a little while, when they were breathing normally again, he shifted against her. His fingers traced over her mouth while his eyes glowed with satisfaction.

  “Anything you want,” he murmured.

  Sure. Anything but the one thing she actually wanted. He’d probably buy her a private jet if she asked, but she couldn’t believe he’d give up one square inch of his heart. He said she meant more to him than a good time in bed, but how much could that really be?

  Eleanor’s portrait hung in the parlor. If there was anything, Warrick had said, it never lasted for long.

  Sandra took a deep, shaky breath and hoped her smile looked natural. She leaned in to give him a kiss, quicker than she wanted, but not daring to linger.

  “I want to see your house again,” she said.

  * * *

  Charles was a very different tour guide than Warrick. He seemed bemused by the idea of walking her through rooms she’d already seen, but she couldn’t conceal her real agenda for long.

  She knew all about the square footage. She wanted to know about him.

  Naturally, they started with the living quarters. Though Charles and his siblings were rarely in residence, they each had rooms always ready. Rosalie and Stephen still stayed in their childhood bedrooms. Sandra found that oddly touching.

  Charles had moved into the master suite once occupied by his parents. “Is that weird?” she asked him.

  He shrugged. “Eleanor redecorated that, too. It looks nothing like it did when I was growing up. That’s how we wanted it.”


  “That makes sense. If I ever moved into my parents’ bedroom, I’d do that too.” Not to erase their memory, but to make the space her own.

  “Do you visit them often?” he asked as they strolled down the hallway.

  “No. I see them every few months, maybe. They’re really busy with the company, and they don’t like town, so they don’t come to visit us often. And with my new job, I don’t have much leeway to visit them.”

  “Are you close to them?”

  This was supposed to be her interrogation, but Charles’s eyes were full of interest. By now, she knew he didn’t waste time on things he didn’t care about. If he asked, he wanted to know.

  It couldn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop her heart from going a little faster. “Yeah,” she said. “We talk on the phone about once a week.” She wouldn’t be mentioning this to them. God, what would they say if they knew? “They’ve always been really, uh, nice and supportive of whatever we wanted to do.”

  She’d intended to reassure herself. Once the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if they’d sounded like an accusation instead. She’d meant it like that on the night she met Charles, when she’d foolishly defended his nephew to him. But Charles sounded mild when he asked, “What did they think about Bradley?”

  Sandra gulped and fought not to wring her hands. “They liked him. I mean, you know how he can be. He was very charming.” Charles nodded. “But they only met him a few times. I never…” She paused.

  He didn’t let her get away with it. “Never what?”

  “I never really made it clear who he was,” Sandra admitted. “They knew he was from money and that he drove a fancy car. But I never sat down and talked them through who he was, and what that meant. Honestly, I didn’t understand it myself for a long time.” She squirmed and added, “Until I met you.”

  “Ah,” he said quietly.

  She might as well come out and say the rest. “Mom said she thought Bradley took the fight out of me. I didn’t like that.”

  Now he looked surprised. “I imagine you didn’t. How did he ever manage that?”