Caught in the Billionaire's Embrace by Elizabeth Bevarly Page A

was thinking. Feeling the same thing she felt. Wanting the same thing she wanted.
    He nuzzled her neck again, this time nipping her lightly with his teeth, an action she found unbelievably erotic. In response, she moved a hand behind herself and fumbled for his belt, working both it and the fly of his trousers open with trembling fingers.
    Well, why shouldn’t she? It was her birthday. She was celebrating. She’d already given herself so many gifts tonight. Why not one more? Why not enjoy this man the way they both wanted to enjoy each other?
    When Marcus realized what she was doing, he moved away from her long enough to help her complete the action. She started to turn around, but he placed both hands firmly on her waist and held her in place with her back to him. So she reached behind herself and thrust her hand into his trousers, finding him naked and hard and ready. He gasped at what must have been the coldness of her hand, but she quickly warmed them both. Cupping the heavy head of his shaft in one hand, she palmed him over the satiny balm of his anticipated release before moving her fingers lower along his length. And lower. And lower. Until she caught her breath at just how magnificent he was.
    She honestly wasn’t sure what she had been thinking she would do next, and in that moment, Marcus’s thoughts seemed to mirror her own. Dropping one hand from her waist, he fisted the fabric of her skirt again. Only this time, it was in the back, and this time he hiked it over her waist. As Della clung to the damp railing, Marcus pulled down her panties, pushing them past her knees. Della did the rest, stepping completely out of them.
    And then he was moving behind her again, deftly rolling on a condom he must have had at the ready. But then, he was notorious, wasn’t he? She had only a scant second to marvel at how he was sexually indiscriminate enough to be so prepared for sex, yet responsible enough to take such a precaution. Then, as the snow cascaded around her, Marcus thrust himself into her from behind, burying himself deeply.
    When she cried out at the depth of his penetration, he gently covered her mouth with his hand. Then he began to move inside her, pulling himself out almost completely before bucking against her again, going evendeeper. She had to bite her lip to keep herself silent, but he rewarded her by moving his hand between her legs and fingering the damp folds of her flesh. Of course, that only made her want to cry out again…
    But she didn’t cry out. She only felt. Felt the tight coil of heat in her belly pull tighter still, until her entire body seemed ready to explode. She felt the man behind her fill her again and again and again, felt the dizzying sensations of hunger and desire and need mingling and twining until they all became one. And then she felt the white-hot release of her climax shaking her, followed immediately by his.
    And then he was removing himself from inside her and wrapping up the spent condom, rearranging their clothes as best he could before he spun her around and covered her mouth with his. For a long time, he only kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. Then, finally, he pulled back enough so that he could frame her face with both hands. It was snowing harder now, swirls of powder blowing up onto the terrace, surrounding them in a virtual tornado of white. Marcus’s breath was coming in gasps, puffs of white against the sparkle of snow that merged with her own hitched breathing.
    He dipped his head until his forehead was pressed against hers. “Nothing like that has ever happened to me before,” he said between breaths. “Della, my God. You’re a narcotic.”
    She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so she said nothing. She only curled her fingers in the front of his shirt and clung to him. They stood that way for long moments, neither seeming to know what to say or do. Della was confident no one inside the club had seen what