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“I don’t want you to stop. I want to watch.”
Heat flares in his gaze, matching the fire I feel.
He returns to his work, his tongue rolling faster. A second finger joins the first, sliding deep and sending delicious pleasure spiraling through me.
My thighs shake under his grip. My groan is lost in the pillow.
Pleasure tightens into a throbbing need. My body clenches hard around him, waves of sensation rippling through me until I buck against his mouth.
Oh my God.
Because I can be a normal woman and still take insane amounts of satisfaction from my billionaire fiancé’s oral skills.
When my body stops trembling, I shift up on my elbows.
“I don’t want to argue,” he says solemnly. “About security, about my business, any of it.”
“Not today,” I agree.
“Not any day. Leni is my business, but I take your point about respecting my staff’s plans. And as for security, if that’s what you want, we will make it happen.”
My mouth drops open in shock, but I recover fast. “Good. Thank you.”
My attention shifts down his body. The lines of his pecs, the scar etched into his skin that reminds us both of his upbringing, the hard abs and light trail of hair leading to the prominent outline in his shorts…
Harrison’s brows arch in amusement. “Drink your fill, love.”
Now I’m imagining him rocking into me.
This won’t be slow. It’ll be hard, headboard-bangingly rough, and I’m ready—
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Dammit.
Ten messages already this morning from Annie and Callie and Leni. Plus, one from Ash.
I hold up the phone. “We have to be quick.”
“I’ll wait.”
“You’ll what?”
His smirk is amused. “I have a very specific idea of how to take care of this. And my new wife will be eager to satisfy me.” He shifts off the bed, bending to inspect the spot where he got stung yesterday. “I thought I couldn’t give you normal,” he says as he straightens. “But I have an idea how I might.”
He stretches one arm over his head, then the other, before retrieving a clean pair of shorts from the dresser.
I’m treated to an exceptional rear view the entire way.
He’s gorgeous. And impossible. And thoughtful. And mine.
“Harrison?” I blurt.
He looks back over his shoulder, head cocked. My billionaire fiancé—husband soon—isn’t the least bit self-conscious.
I swallow. “Maybe normal is overrated.”
He heads for the bathroom, but not before shooting me a boyish grin and a wink that nearly makes me come all over again.
