She looked back. Relief and surprise washed over her as she saw Lance rushing out of the house toward her.
Chapter 5
Samira wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against it as Lance stooped to pick her up in his arms. She shivered uncontrollably, amazed at how quickly the cold had affected her.
“Hold on, I got you,” he said, his chin nestled against the top of her hat-covered head and the ends of her long hair whipping up in the wind.
“Thank you,” she whispered to him as he carried her with ease.
She felt relief when they reached the mudroom and he nudged the door closed with his foot before continuing into the kitchen and then across to the living room. Her teeth nearly chattered as he set her on her feet in front of the roaring fire. It felt delicious, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth as she outstretched her arms to splay her hands.
“Be right back,” Lance said, quickly striding down the hall and soon returning with a stack of plush folded towels and blankets.
“S-s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold,” she said, shivering from the soaked clothes clinging to her body.
He shook his head. “I didn’t know you walked here. I should have taken you home,” he said, dropping the towels onto a nearby distressed-leather chair. He held up the blanket in front of her. “You have to come out of those clothes. I’ll get something for you to wear while I dry them, and then I’ll take you home.”
“You don’t have a car. You’re always walking,” she said over the edge of the blanket as she removed her drenched fur to drop to the floor. It took effort with her slightly throbbing fingers to undo the button and zip of her jeans.
Lance’s head was turned as he looked into the fire. “My garage is full,” he said.
It was a four-car garage. “Oh,” she said, her eyes skimming his profile.
His jawline, so square and masculine, begged to be kissed. Licked. Enjoyed.
She bit her bottom lip and looked away from him, avoiding the sultriness of stripping, undressing as the fire crackled and lit their bodies with a warm golden glow. Still, her body’s pulse points went on high alert. Racing. Pounding. Throbbing.
Behind the blanket, she bent to unzip and remove her boots one by one before peeling her skintight denims and socks off to add to the growing pile. She looked down at her sheer bra and panties, still slightly damp against her body, but decided to keep them on. “All done,” she said.
Lance draped the blanket around her, looking down at her.
The light of the fire warmed his brown eyes. She couldn’t turn away and didn’t try, remembering their kiss. The heat and passion. Something in his brown depths let her know he remembered it as well.
Lance Millner confused her. His vibe said yes even when his mouth said no.
He stepped back and picked up her dripping-wet clothing. “I’ll dry these,” he said. “The fur I’ll hang up, but you’ll need to take it to a furrier to have it dried properly.”
She nodded, licking her lips as she watched him retreat. Alone, she twisted the blanket around so that the front edges were held closed with her hands. She looked behind her before sitting in the other leather chair, extending her bare feet toward the fire and enjoying the heat. She took one of the towels and dried the ends of her hair before snuggling deeper into the chair, resting her head against it and closing her eyes as she waited for the last of her shivers to fade.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when he returned with an oversize T-shirt, her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and a steaming cup of tea. His movement awakened her, but she left her eyes closed, feeling some of her earlier embarrassment return. She even released a low snore, enjoying his care and concern but needing a reprieve from his steadfast refusal to admit he desired her.
She could tell he set the items on the log-shaped table beside her. When he walked away, she peeked with one eye at him leaving the room. She closed it when he returned with another blanket that he placed on her. When he remained standing beside her, she had to force herself not to hold her breath.
“I am fascinated by you, Samira Ansah,” he admitted. “I wish I wasn’t, but I am.”
She opened her eyes and locked them with his, seeing his shock that she wasn’t, in fact, asleep.
He moved to walk away, and she reached for his wrists, locking him in place and unknowingly opening her blanket with the sudden movement. “Lance,” she said, imploring him to surrender.
He looked down at her lace-covered body and then shifted his gaze away. “Let me go, Samira,” he said.
She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said.
The fire crackled into the silence that followed.
“You honestly are a beauty, not a beast, Lance. Why don’t you believe me?” she asked, tugging his arm to pull him down onto his knees between her open legs. As she removed his hat, she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. Then she stroked his scar lightly with her thumb as they stared at one another.
The mood was hypnotic.
She saw his struggle against his desire for her just before she saw him relent to it and lean in to take her mouth with his own as he brought his hands up her bare thighs and then around to grip her buttocks. She gasped into his mouth as she inched her body to the edge of the chair and pressed herself to him. Her body reacted to him in a way she had never experienced before. Shivers. Excitement. Racing pulses. Anticipation. Pure pleasure that hardened her nipples and caused the fleshy bud nestled between the bald lips of her intimacy to throb and ache.
“Samira, Samira, Samira,” he moaned against her mouth before dipping his head to warmly suckle her neck.
Her body jerked in sweet torture as she brought her hands up to grasp the back of his head. She flung her own head back and released a breath that was filled with her desire. “Yes,” she sighed, relishing in the sexy haze pushed forward by the fire. It was everything. All things. She was heady. Lost.
And when he curved his strong back to press his face to her cleavage, planting heated kisses there, she released him to reach up and grab the back of the chair as she placed one leg over each arm of it.
Lance leaned up to look down at her, shaking his head in wonder at the sight of her nearly nude body in delicate lingerie that barely hid her from his eyes. “Damn,” he swore, lowering his head to suck one taut brown nipple into his mouth through the sheer brassiere.
Samira rolled her body and closed her eyes, giving in to his skill. The light flickers of the tip of his tongue against her nipples alternated with a deep sucking motion made her wet. Aching. She moaned, hearing how it sounded pulled from deep inside her where he was a stoking a fire that warmed her in a way the fire could not.
Lance yanked the lace down beneath her breasts, freeing them and allowing him to taste her without a barrier. He moaned deeply and she felt the vibration of it against her flesh as he sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could.
She cried out as she hotly bit her bottom lip.
Lance opened his eyes, looking at her with her nipple locked in his mouth as his tongue deliciously circled it. And there in the brown depths, she saw the wildness. The savageness that had been released. The man who desired her. Wanted to ravage her. Please her. Be inside her.
She could hardly wait for that moment. That connection. She was hungry for that. Him. It.
“Let me see it,” she demanded softly, sure that her eyes were as wild as his. She was gone. There was no turning back.
This—them—was going to happen. She hadn’t realized just how badly she wanted until right then. She was thirsty and seeking to be quenched. Hungry and needing to be fed. Inch by inch.
He smiled wolfishly before freeing her nipple, leaning up to remove his shirt.
She reached to stroke the hard contours of his chest and abdomen as she rolled her hips.
Lance undid the button and zi
pper of his jeans, jerking them down below his buttocks and freeing his hardness. He held it at the base as he rested on the chair between her open legs.
“Oh...oh...okay. Okay. Oh, okay,” she said in wonder, at a loss for words as she admired the length, the width, the curve, the slightly darker hue than the rest of his body, and the soft hairs curling around the base like a bush.
“Touch it,” he commanded thickly, looking down at it and then up at her.
She obeyed with no hesitation, taking him into her hand to stroke him from the root to the smooth tip. Slowly. Deliberately.
He gasped and grunted, flinging his head back as he deeply bit his bottom lip.
She tapped his hardness against her core. It was solid and weighty. “Shit,” she swore, feeling a little fear that he might be too big for her.
Lance grabbed her hand, stopping her strokes of his flesh. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t want to nut,” he admitted, wrapping an arm around her waist as he buried his face against her chest.
She stroked his thick tip one last time and felt his prerelease wet her hand. She grunted at the thought of him having no control. She loved it. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.
He shifted his body and did so, gently sucking the tip of her tongue as they waited for his climax to subside. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she trailed her fingertips across his broad back, drawing goose bumps and shivers that made her feel powerful.
With one last taste of her mouth, Lance kissed his way back to her breasts.
She reached behind herself to undo the clasp, extending her arms upward to remove her bra and fling it away from them. “Take off my panties, please,” she whispered to him, lowering her feet to the floor to lift her buttocks from the chair.
Lance’s eyes seemed to darken in color from brandy to hot chocolate as he slid his thick fingers beneath the edge and worked them down over her hips and then down her legs. He picked them up once they hit the floor by her feet and eyed her hotly as he pressed them to his face.
She smiled with a little grunt at the back of her throat. “Smell good?” she asked, letting her eyes soak in being able to see his beautiful face, scar and all.
“Damn good,” he moaned.
She set her legs back up on the arms of the chair and eased her hands down her body, patting her core. “It tastes even better,” she promised.
“Let’s see,” he said, moving back on his knees to lower himself.
“Let’s,” she agreed as she moved her hand to the back of his head to gently guide him forward.
His kissed each thigh first before stroking her bud with his tongue with featherlight flickers. He sucked the throbbing bud into his mouth with a dangerous one-two motion like he was pumping her.
Samira cried out, grasping her own breasts as she felt warmth spread from her core and down to heat her toes. “I’m coming,” she gasped, arching her back as tiny explosions burst inside her.
Lance moaned deeply as he deepened the sucking motion.
She fought to be free of the pleasure, afraid she would pass out from her clit being so sensitive, but he locked her in place with his arms and licked at her wildly. “Please,” she whimpered, pushing her hand against his forehead.
Lance released her with one final kiss before he gripped her knees and used his hips to guide the tip to rest at her intimacy. “Ready?” he asked.
Samira nodded as she released a long breath through pursed lips.
That vibe—their energy—intensified as he slid inside her, spreading her, filling her inch by inch as he captivated her with the intensity of his eyes. And when he filled her so completely that the base of his shaft pressed against her clit, she winced and shuddered loudly. “Oh damn,” she cried at the feel of him.
“You wanted it, Samira, then get it,” he said, playfully taunting her.
Never one to deny a challenge, she wrapped her legs around his waist and shifted to the edge. She sat up and pressed her upper body against his hard one and gripped his shoulders as she suckled his neck and worked the walls of her core against him. He grunted and tightened his entire body. She chuckled softly against his neck as she kissed her way up to his ear lobe. “You want it. Now get it,” she volleyed back in a hot little whisper before licking his earlobe.
And he was off. Stroking deep within her. Beneath the feet she crossed over his buttocks, she felt them as they clenched and released with each thrust that felt like a jolt of lightning inside her. Intense. Raw. Wild.
They kissed deeply, with passion, as she worked her hips to sex him just as hard as he worked her. Their rhythm was perfection. Back and forth. Fast. Sometimes slow. Always hot and deep. The heat of the fire and their chemistry drew sweat from them, coating their bodies and slickening their moves against each other.
Samira was lost in him. Just gone. And didn’t give one damn that she was.
* * *
Lance had been hungry for it all. The connection. The intimacy. The concern for him.
He bit down on his lips to keep from telling this remarkable woman, who had somehow broken through his shell, that he’d needed this. And he hadn’t even known it until the dam in him had been broken.
It had been years since he allowed himself to desire another woman. And he did. He wanted her. Just her. Other offers had been made. Other women had tried and failed. He had not lied when he spoke of his fascination with her. Her spunk and grace. Her ability to be so normal in the face of being a billionaire heiress. Even her subtle shade that someone with lesser intelligence had missed. And then just her. Her beauty. The darkness of her skin. The shape of her hips as they swayed in countermotion to her arms as she walked. Her style. And yes, even her tenacity. The same grit that led her to infiltrate his life with a lie but had kept her still playing the part of assistant even when it meant doing grunt work.
He was simply impressed with her. This intelligent, beautiful young woman who walked as if she wore a crown and knew that her regality rested not in her wealth but her connection to the motherland.
He fought it. He lost. He wanted her. He wanted no one else to have her.
And now in this heated moment before his fireplace, on the edge of his favorite leather chair, he mated with her with an intensity that shook him. He fought not to tremble. Or roar. Or come too fast from his excitement and appear inept.
Lance brought his hands up to clasp the sides of her face. He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs as he tilted her chin up and kissed her with every bit of the passion she aroused in him. “I’m getting it?” he asked, his eyes dazed as he watched her. “Huh? Tell me. Say it.”
Samira nodded. “You got it. Damn it. You got it,” she said.
He chuckled before deepening their kiss and easing his hands down her back to grip her buttocks, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh as he delivered stroke after stroke inside her. He looked down between them, hardening at the sight of his tool glistening wet from her.
She gasped, and her fingers gripped his shoulders. “I felt you get harder,” she said.
“And I feel you throbbing against me,” he whispered.
“Like that?” she asked, tightening the muscles of her walls down upon him. Gripping him.
Lance closed his eyes and rested his head against hers. “I’m trying so hard not to come, Samira,” he warned her, his tones low and warm.
“Oh, I feel how hard you’re trying,” she mused, kissing his mouth.
He released a low chuckle before getting serious again. “And would you like to feel how hard I am when I come?”
Samira gasped as she felt his inches swell inside her. “As long as you come with me,” she whispered to him, her eyes sexy and filled with mischief.
Utterly fascinated.
Lance captured her mouth with his own as he wrapped an arm around her waist and then leaned back on his haunches,
bringing her body with him. She placed her feet on the floor on either side of him and gripped his shoulders as she began to circle her hips against him, sending her core up and down the length of him.
Lance was lost in her eyes, loving the flare of the roaring fire reflected in the dark brown depths as she rode him. The movement of her body. The back-and-forth sway of her breasts. The way she bit her bottom lip and flung her head back in pleasure. The feel of her clasping and releasing his hard inches as her wetness slickened their strokes. He reached behind her for the edges of her long hair and twisted it around his fist, tugging gently to tilt her head back and expose the smooth lines of her neck to him. He sat up to suckle right where her pulse throbbed against his tongue and tried his best not to get so caught up that he left a mark.
She rode him to the edge, and all he could do was hold on to her as his body felt the sweet anticipation of the release. He was ready for it. There was no turning back.
“I’m gonna come,” he whispered against her neck, wincing as the first hot shot of his come filled her.
Samira arched her back and rode him harder. “Me, too,” she gasped up into the heated air.
He felt her tremble against him, her body jerking with each white-hot spasm.
They cried out together. Roughly. Loudly. Uncaring.
With his arm back around her waist, he shifted their bodies again until she was pressed down upon the rug and he was delivering hard and deep thrusts as he looked down into her face and soaked up the pleasure he saw with an intensity that shook him. He grunted with the last of thrusts, both pleased and disappointed for his explosive ending. He could stay in her forever. Lost in her heat and tightness.
Samira released shallow breaths as she reached up to stroke his face. He shifted his face from her when she touched his scar. She lightly gripped his chin and forced his face forward to look at her. “Not with me. Not anymore,” she insisted softly.
Her request was not easy. For so long he’d barely looked at the scar or even himself. It had been years. To him, he did not see his true self but rather some disfigured version of that being that was a reminder of his pain. His loss. His devastation.
Christmas with the Billionaire ; A Tiara for Christmas Page 7