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Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(99)

Author:Lauren Asher

“More like I think of this.” He pulls away, taking his cock with him. My mouth falls open as he swoops in and throws me back on the bed.

He makes quick work of discarding my dress, leaving me blinking up at the ceiling, naked and waiting. I slide across the comforter as he drags me toward the edge of the bed. My limp legs hang over the side, dangling as he shoves them open.

He slips a finger inside me, dragging it back and forth before adding another. “Who knew you liked sucking cock that much?”

I rise on my elbows. “Driving you wild seems to have an addicting quality to it.”

Based on the smile on his face as he turns away from me and grabs a condom from his nightstand, I think he liked my answer. One can only hope I’m rewarded for my honesty.

I watch him slip the condom on his shaft, and I’m hit with another wave of admiration for him. Knowing he is willing to put aside his goal to get me pregnant makes my whole chest ache.

He steps between my legs again and lines himself up at my entrance. My breath catches as he drives forward, slamming his hips against mine. Tears prick my eyes from the burning sensation of him stretching me.

He wraps my trembling legs around his waist, and I hiss at the tightness.

“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I look forward to fucking the lies right out of you.” The look of hunger in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. His nails dig into my hips as he withdraws, only to slide into me again. The air is knocked straight out of my lungs as his tempo shifts to something I can only describe as insatiable.

His onslaught destroys any sense of control I have over the situation. He throws one of my quivering legs over his shoulder before adding the other, changing our position so I can take more of his abuse.

A burning desire in my lower half intensifies with each slap of his hips against mine. I claw at the sheets. His chest. His thighs. Anything to ground me as he memorizes my body like a language only he can translate.

His pumps never cease, and my orgasm starts to build inside of me. He runs his thumb across my clit before drawing small circles with the pad. I detonate like a bomb, warmth exploding in my chest as he shoves me over the edge of no return. My eyes slam shut, only to snap open again as he pinches my clit.

“Look at me.” The rough whisper of his command sends another round of liquid fire through me. I shatter around his cock without breaking eye contact. My release seems to spark his. His fingers dig into my flesh as his cock drives in and out of me like a man possessed. He groans, fingers tightening around me as his head drops back and he comes. The sight of him unraveling devastates any last hope I have of keeping him at arm’s length.

I found my newest addiction, and it happens to be my fake husband.

33

DECLAN

“W hy did you use a condom?” Iris asks as she tugs a clean T-shirt of mine over her head.

I busy myself with digging through a drawer. “I wasn’t about to kill the moment by asking if you wanted to try for a baby.”

She laughs. “I appreciate the thought, but I know what I signed up for.”

“So, what, us having sex is just a way for you to fulfill your end of a contract?” My tone carries more bite than intended.

“I never said that.”

“Then what?” I snap.

“I mean, I know we agreed to having a child via in vitro, but if we are attracted to each other, then maybe…” Her voice drops off.

Is she fucking kidding me? If we are attracted to each other? The way she minimizes our connection makes me want to throw her back on the bed and show her how attracted she is to me. It’s bullshit is what it is.

You’re angry at yourself because you’re developing feelings and she isn’t.

Fuck yeah, I’m angry. I hate this discomfort growing in my chest with each ragged breath as much as I hate the way she is the one person I can’t control.

I slam the drawer shut, which makes her wince. Her reaction only adds to my already deteriorating mood.

Rein your temper in before you do something you regret.

I’m quick to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt before grabbing my wallet.

“Let me explain.” She grabs onto my arm, but I shrug her off.

“I don’t want your explanation.”

What I want is silence and some time to think by myself because something I’m doing isn’t working. I chased. I conquered. Yet she still won’t acknowledge the obvious feelings growing between us.

“Where are you going?” She follows me down the hall.

“Out.” I don’t look back at her as I barrel down the stairs.