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

by July Hall

  She loved touching him. Couldn’t get enough.

  “Stop it,” he muttered.

  Sandra lifted her cheek from his head. “I’m not doing anything!”

  “Yes, you are.” He refused to look at her. “You’ve got your arm around my shoulders and I can feel your breath against my neck.”

  Wow. She rolled her eyes so hard she might have sprained them. “Sorry, but I’m not going to stop breathing.” Then she got a brainwave. A very mischievous one. The sort she never used to get. “And it could be worse.”

  “Worse?”

  Sandra dragged her fingernails lightly over the nape of his neck, just the way he liked it. He gasped. “I could do that.” She did it again. This would teach him. “You definitely don’t want me to do that.”

  Charles dropped his pen and turned his face against her throat. “I have to work,” he moaned.

  Sandra’s heart began to race. She cupped his face with her other hand and arched her head back a little, giving his mouth room to roam. He moaned again. “This was your idea,” she pointed out breathlessly.

  “Don’t let me have ideas.” He placed a hand on her stomach and let it drift down to toy with the button on her jeans. “For God’s sake, stop me when I have ideas.” Sandra’s breath caught. “And don’t make those noises and don’t…”

  “What…” Her voice cracked. “What’s your idea right now?”

  He slipped the button through its hole. “To do what I did on the beach,” he said. “But with my fingers in your cunt.” Sandra’s hips rolled, totally without her permission, and she squeaked. “Like that idea, do you? I want to make you come right here in my lap.”

  “Oh…um…oh,” was all Sandra could say, as opposed to Fine by me. Jesus. Was this what came of just being in a room with him? Everything seemed to be fine, even normal, and then all of a sudden sex broke out?

  She wasn’t complaining. She didn’t know what the long-term future held, but the immediate future had at least one orgasm in it, and she wanted it now. He pushed at her knee, and she wound up with her back to his front, her ass grinding against his growing erection while he unzipped her jeans.

  His hand didn’t have much room to move when it slipped beneath her panties. That meant his fingers pressed hard against her lips, her clit, as he rubbed them back and forth. “Oh,” she whimpered.

  “You are my addiction.” He cupped one of her breasts. “Ah, when you come—and you make those sounds—”

  She fought for control. It was tough when he had his hands on her. “But, but you don’t want me to make any sounds.” She spread her legs wider so he could slide his hand farther beneath her panties. “It distracts you.” She pushed backwards with her ass against his cock.

  For answer, he pushed his hand down farther until he was cupping her completely in his palm. He slid his middle finger deep inside her. She was already slick. The angle was a little awkward, but then he started to grind the heel of his palm against her clit. “Oh!” she cried out, bucking forward. “Oh God!”

  “Yes,” he said. “Those sounds.” He began rubbing his hand faster, almost frantically, against her. Another noise joined the chorus, the wet slap of his fingers in her lather.

  Sandra began to clench helplessly around his finger. Oh, shit, was there such a thing as premature ejaculation for women? She wanted this to last a little longer, she wanted…

  It didn’t matter what she wanted. Charles won the round when he ground down with his palm again and Sandra came, crying out his name.

  “Ah,” he breathed again, gently sliding his hand back out from beneath her panties. She slumped back against him. He kissed the side of her neck.

  Then his sticky fingers brushed her mouth. He sounded incredibly smug as he said, “Well, that didn’t take—”

  Sandra wrapped her lips around his fingers and sucked her juices off without missing a beat. Her tongue flicked against his fingertips. Charles stopped talking with a gasp.

  She licked him clean. Then she relaxed further against him with a heavy sigh. “Now I’m going to do that to your dick,” she said conversationally.

  Charles stiffened against her. Everywhere.

  “Yep,” Sandra continued, feeling a silly smile stretch her face and glad he couldn’t see it. “Thanks for that. I feel great now. I’m okay to take plenty of time, no hurry.” Charles made a faint, strangled noise. “You’re not in a hurry, right?”

  “I…well—”

  “You stopped me before,” Sandra reminded him. She paused as if deep in thought. “And you didn’t ask me to do it last night either. Maybe you just don’t like my mouth?”

  Charles grabbed her hips. “Your mouth is heaven,” he rasped in her ear.

  Sandra gave another soft, satisfied sigh. At the sound of it, he shivered.

  He liked the noises she made, huh?

  “You sure?” she asked. “Let me just make sure you know what you’re getting into first.” She rubbed her hand over his knee and grinned up at the ceiling.

  “What I’m what?”

  Sandra zipped up her jeans and fastened the button again. She turned around so that she was perched on both his knees, as before. She gave him her most angelic smile.

  And then she began talking like she’d never talked in her life.

  “I think I’ll start with kisses,” she said. “Just little ones. Up and down you. You know?” Charles’s cheeks went pink. She slid her palm down his stomach, into his lap, and found the outline of his hardened cock beneath his pants.

  He hissed and arched up into her touch. Then, when she began to massage him, his eyes fluttered shut. Sandra looked adoringly at his long, dark lashes. “Yeah, I think that’s what I’ll do. And if you like that, I’ll lick your tip. Just…slide my tongue around it. In circles.”

  Charles opened his eyes again and helplessly stared at her mouth. His own lips parted, but no words came out.

  “Not the slit, though,” she continued, still rubbing him through his pants. “I’ll save that for later. When you’re on the edge and you’re trying so hard not to come.”

  “So hard,” he said faintly, his eyes glazing over.

  “Oh, yeah.” She squeezed gently and watched his throat bob as he gulped. “Before that, I’m going to suck you. I’m going to play with your balls.” Something seemed to be growing inside her, hot and fierce and almost predatory. “I’m going to drive you fucking crazy.”

  “God,” he said. “Sandra—”

  She slid off his lap and knelt between his spread thighs. She reached for his belt. “And I’m going to do it right now.”

  Never let it be said she didn’t keep her word. She got his belt off and his pants unzipped, and then eased his erection out of his boxers as carefully as if it was made of glass. It wasn’t, of course. It was made of hot, velvety flesh, and when Sandra pressed the first kiss to it, her eyes closed with pleasure. Charles hissed.

  She smiled. Last night she hadn’t been able to take the time to work him up. This was going to be fun.

  “What,” Charles said through his teeth, “are you grinning at?”

  His tone didn’t deter her for an instant. She smiled innocently at him again and said, “Like I said, there’s no hurry. But could you do me a favor and not move?” She squeezed his girth. “This thing is seriously an occupational hazard.” Charles spluttered. “So hold still and…let me get to work.”

  And she did. She did everything she’d sworn, and more. He felt huge in her mouth and hands, but she kissed and licked and sucked until his cock was slick with spit and pre-come, and his every breath was a groan.

  She pulled back to catch her breath and licked her sticky lips. “Still heaven?” she whispered.

  “Oh God,” he panted, his eyes shut. He was grabbing the arms of his chair so fiercely that his knuckles were bone-white. She rubbed the pad of her thumb against his balls. Then she hefted them in her palm, squeezing gently at the same moment she slid her lips over his crown again.

  It ear
ned her another taste of pre-come, both bitter and salty. She felt a surge of triumph. Bradley had always made this feel degrading, somehow. How was it that Charles, more powerful and forceful, made it seem the opposite?

  His balls were getting tighter in her hand, and his cock was getting even harder in her mouth. She felt his thighs quiver on either side of her. He must be really, really close.

  Nope.

  She lifted her mouth from him again and rubbed her hands over his thighs. He gave a short, hoarse cry of frustration. “For fuck’s sake—”

  She ran her lips over the head of his cock but didn’t lick or take him inside. Pre-come smeared over her mouth and chin. “Be nice.”

  “I can’t…I need…” He opened his eyes, wild with desire. She never looked away as she steadied his cock with her hand and swirled her tongue around the crown again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

  The predatory feeling grew. “Better think twice before you get smug with me,” she said. He ground his jaw. As good as her word, she began caressing his slit with her tongue. He was leaking steadily now, about to burst, and it was dripping over her chin. Oh, yeah. She began to flick her tongue faster and faster.

  “Wait!” he gasped. “Sandra—let me fuck you—let me be inside you—”

  Sandra took as much of his cock in her mouth as she could manage before she shook her head no. The faint vibration made his hips arch off the chair, and she pulled back a little so he wouldn’t choke her.

  “I’ll come inside you,” he said desperately, “you like that—”

  Sorry, no. This wasn’t going to be on his terms. Charles liked to make her come, giving her orgasms like gifts whenever he felt like it. And now he was trying to stop her, take control again, and do something to her instead of being done to.

  He couldn’t have it his way all the time.

  “You will come inside me,” she whispered. “In my mouth.” She licked his tip. “Or not at all.”

  “Oh Christ. Let me—” He grabbed her shoulders. “Just for a moment. I want to…”

  Fuck her for just a moment? He probably really believed that. “Let go,” she whispered. “This is yours.” He moaned, and she remembered what had set him off their first time. “All yours.” She dragged the flat of her tongue from the base all the way up to the tip. “Just…like…me.”

  “Sandra!”

  She got her mouth back on him just in time. She sucked as the bitter taste of his come flooded over her tongue. There wasn’t too much, not after the last couple of days, and she swallowed it all.

  When he was still shivering, she gave him one final, friendly kiss on his tip that made his hips jerk. Then she sat back on her heels and licked her lips. The man who had once been Charles Magister, but now appeared to be the victim of a succubus attack, sagged back in his chair with a groan.

  Sandra rested her head on his thigh. She felt silly and sated and wonderful. Warrick’s warnings were obviously nonsense. What did he know about what Charles was like behind closed doors?

  Charles exhaled heavily and looked down at her. His eyes were still glazed over with pleasure. She beamed at him. “You’re right,” she said. “Some things are even better when they’re competitive.”

  He made a huffing sound that sounded kind of like a laugh. “You came faster. I want that on the record.” He carefully tucked himself back into his pants. “Dear God. You look like an angel, but…” He trailed off, and this time he seemed almost awed.

  Sandra couldn’t stop an even bigger smile. Her ego didn’t get this kind of stroking every day. She didn’t light fires, huh?

  “Come here.” Charles patted his knee.

  She perched carefully on him so that she didn’t rub against his crotch. He plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and handed it to her.

  “You look like a respectable, upstanding businessman,” she said while she wiped her mouth clean. “But when you get right down to it…”

  He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Yes?”

  “We’re both kind of slutty,” Sandra concluded.

  Charles didn’t laugh or even grin, but his eyes lit up with undeniable delight. “My God,” he said, “how did I live without you for—”

  Sandra’s heart stopped, but instead of finishing, he kissed her. Then he did it again.

  Her heart started beating again, going double-time, no less. What could she say? His words were too much to bear. The hope they offered was too cruel. But he was waiting for her to respond, his body tense as a pulled wire against her.

  What came out of her mouth was, “Well, I’m here now.”

  For now, she’d meant. Surely that’s what he heard.

  Charles relaxed and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “Indeed,” he said. “Indeed you are.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Being naked could be a wonderful thing. Being naked in his own bed could be even better, and being naked with Sandra Dane was, frankly, superlative.

  By unspoken consent they’d skipped the pajamas tonight. As soon as Charles had taken her into his arms, he’d felt her body go limp as she yawned. “Oh, sorry,” she’d said, blinking. “I haven’t slept right in, like, three nights. But…” She’d relaxed further, and he’d watched her eyelashes flutter. Without a coat of mascara, they were long and red, nearly gold at the tips. “We can…if you want…”

  She didn’t seem to be joking. Maybe this was a cunning plan to kill him before the weekend was out. “It’s all right,” he’d said, nuzzling her slightly damp hair. A hot shower definitely hadn’t served to wake her up. “Get some sleep.”

  “But I do want to.” She’d sounded half-asleep already as she sent a clumsy hand questing up and down his torso. “I…always want…”

  Then she’d gone out like a light. Now Charles lay in the darkness, dozing again, not able to quiet his mind enough for true sleep. He’d been doing this for hours. The clock by his bed told him that it was 2:43 in the morning.

  At some point, Sandra had rolled over, and he’d followed her as if pulled by a lodestone, spooning her. She’d given a happy little murmur and snuggled back against him. Now her smooth ass pressed against his bare thighs and cock.

  His very satisfied cock. She’d played Charles like a flute in that chair, finding every sensitive spot he had and teasing him until he couldn’t bear it any more. Telling him she was all his. Heaven indeed.

  At least he hadn’t said please this time, though it had been a near thing. As he’d reached the edge and realized that his orgasm was impossible to stop, suddenly nothing had seemed more important than letting go in her cunt once more. He hadn’t asked, but he’d made his desire very clear.

  She’d said no to that, too.

  People didn’t say no to Charles. His wishes were never ignored as if they didn’t matter. But Sandra was young and lovely, and obviously just having fun. She seemed to have no agenda at all beyond their mutual pleasure. In fact, she adamantly refused to tell him what she wanted outside of bed.

  People like that…people who wanted nothing from you and knew they had no reason to fear you…people like that were impossible to control. Or keep, if they wanted to go.

  He held her closer. He could savor this for one more night. Then what?

  They would go their separate ways tomorrow afternoon or evening. It couldn’t be helped. The question remained of what would happen next.

  It would certainly be more practical for them to part, but Charles couldn’t imagine doing any such thing. He’d meant it earlier, though he’d managed to cut himself off. How had he made it through his days before she’d shown up? He’d had things in his life that satisfied him, even pleased him. There was nothing like the triumph of a successful deal. But he’d forgotten everything about happiness.

  Happiness. What a dangerous idea to entertain.

  Maybe he was making too much of this. With a little care and planning, there was no reason they couldn’t continue their liaison. They could be discreet. It would benefit both of them—ev
en aside from the incredible sex, he enjoyed her company, and she didn’t seem to mind his.

  He enjoyed her company very, very much.

  So why was some gut instinct warning him of danger, whispering that everything could go tits-up in the blink of an eye? What was wrong with this scenario?

  “You’re thinking really hard.”

  Her voice, soft and throaty, woke him completely. “Oh?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Sandra rolled over. He couldn’t see her at all. They’d pulled the heavy drapes. “I woke up for a second, and I knew you weren’t asleep.” Her fingertips touched his arm hesitantly; then, when they were sure of their territory, they began caressing him. “Do you have insomnia?”

  “No.” After a full day’s work, he was always ready to rest, and then to rise the next morning and do it all over again. Every day. For years. Without a single change to his routine.

  “Was I snoring?”

  In spite of his reservations, he chuckled. “No.”

  “Do you sleep better alone? Should I go back to my room?”

  And leave him one night earlier than she had to? His amusement vanished. He said harshly, “No. Go back to sleep.”

  Instead, she stiffened against him. “Sorry,” she said, in a tone that implied he was the one out of line. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  “Everything is fine.” Or it would be, once she was pliant and agreeable next to him again. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t. I had a strange dream.” A tremor ran through her. Automatically, he slid an arm over her waist. “A nightmare.”

  He knew about those. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. It was weird.” She still sounded half-asleep. “I…I dreamed I died.”

  If she’d told him in the morning, he would have dismissed it. Here in the darkness, it felt like someone had just thrown him into a freezer and slammed the door. “What?” he croaked.

  Sandra didn’t seem to notice, but she did shiver again. “Yeah. I dreamed I was skydiving, but nobody gave me a parachute. I was falling. I was so scared of hitting the ground, but I also just wanted to get it over with, you know? Then, when I was about to crash, I woke up.”