Caught Up: With An Alpha Billionaire (A BWWM Romance) (A Love Like No Other Book 1) by Heather Banks Page A
Authors: Heather Banks
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hall to the left.
We found his suite fast and he punched the key card into the lock. The little light flashed green and he pushed the door open, and we stepped inside.
The interior was modern and opulent, a huge space with soaring windows and tasteful yet expensive furnishings. I saw a conference table, a living area with a sofa and huge flat-screen TV, and a kitchenette.
I didn’t have much time to enjoy my surroundings, though. The door hadn’t even fully closed behind us as I dropped my briefcase and he roughly pulled off my suit jacket, his mouth again hot on mine. I grabbed his shirttail and pulled it out of his pants, sliding my hands underneath to find his firm stomach and warm skin.
“Tiffany,” he moaned against my mouth. There was more need and heat in that one word than I’d heard from any man, ever. I almost climaxed just from hearing him say my name.
I pulled my hands from his shirt and found his pants button, undoing it and sliding down the zipper. I massaged his massive length through the material of his boxers, and he groaned, pushing me against the wall of the hotel room.
As I rubbed him, he bent down and grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it up so it bunched around my waist. I was wearing bikini panties, and he quickly pushed them down around my knees so I was bared to him. He wedged his knees between my thighs and pushed them open, spreading me for better access.
His fingers found my wet heat and dove into me, sliding into the silkiness with first one finger, then two. I gasped and arched into him, and then he pulled out and began to work my clit between his fingertips.
“God, Alex,” I whispered, feeling my orgasm build in my crotch and my pussy become wetter. “Can’t we at least make it to the bed?” I breathed.
“No,” he answered, pumping his fingers inside me again, hard and forceful. “I want to make you come right here.”
Between his spoken desire and his thrusting fingers, my body responded and I broke over the edge of my climax, bucking into his hand, my muscles answering with a mind of their own.
He didn’t give me time to recover as he pushed his pants and underwear down and parted my legs further. He squatted slightly then slammed into me, burying himself fully, my body stretching in accommodation to his size.
For a moment, we both savored the union of our bodies, then his want took over and he pulled back, almost out of me. He slid in again, this time a little slower, enjoying the sweet friction he created with his thrust.
I disentangled my left leg from my panties and slid them off my foot, then bent my leg up to hook around his waist. His size and girth were exquisite, and I wanted to feel him inside me as much as I could; I wanted to open as far as I could for him. He moaned in response, feeling himself go deeper, losing himself in me.
He braced one hand against the wall to the side of me and with the other he gripped my breast through my thin shirt, massaging roughly, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger so it was painfully hard. The sensation spread through my chest and into my pelvis, the pain and the pleasure mixing in a sweet contradiction.
His mouth dropped open and his breath was coming in short pants now, and his thrusting became more irregular. I could tell he was close to coming, and I met his movements. I could feel another orgasm of my own starting and I gritted my teeth, willing the wave to crash.
As we met each other’s thrusts we both toppled over the brinks of our climaxes together, the pleasure leaving us both breathless.
We came back to ourselves, and he pulled out. I felt thick wetness cover my upper thighs as he pulled me towards the bedroom. Once inside, we collapsed in a heap together on the king bed.
“Did that solve your problem?” I asked wryly, when we both caught our breaths.
“Dammit,” he muttered, passing a hand over his face, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “I’m pretty sure that complicated
We found his suite fast and he punched the key card into the lock. The little light flashed green and he pushed the door open, and we stepped inside.
The interior was modern and opulent, a huge space with soaring windows and tasteful yet expensive furnishings. I saw a conference table, a living area with a sofa and huge flat-screen TV, and a kitchenette.
I didn’t have much time to enjoy my surroundings, though. The door hadn’t even fully closed behind us as I dropped my briefcase and he roughly pulled off my suit jacket, his mouth again hot on mine. I grabbed his shirttail and pulled it out of his pants, sliding my hands underneath to find his firm stomach and warm skin.
“Tiffany,” he moaned against my mouth. There was more need and heat in that one word than I’d heard from any man, ever. I almost climaxed just from hearing him say my name.
I pulled my hands from his shirt and found his pants button, undoing it and sliding down the zipper. I massaged his massive length through the material of his boxers, and he groaned, pushing me against the wall of the hotel room.
As I rubbed him, he bent down and grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it up so it bunched around my waist. I was wearing bikini panties, and he quickly pushed them down around my knees so I was bared to him. He wedged his knees between my thighs and pushed them open, spreading me for better access.
His fingers found my wet heat and dove into me, sliding into the silkiness with first one finger, then two. I gasped and arched into him, and then he pulled out and began to work my clit between his fingertips.
“God, Alex,” I whispered, feeling my orgasm build in my crotch and my pussy become wetter. “Can’t we at least make it to the bed?” I breathed.
“No,” he answered, pumping his fingers inside me again, hard and forceful. “I want to make you come right here.”
Between his spoken desire and his thrusting fingers, my body responded and I broke over the edge of my climax, bucking into his hand, my muscles answering with a mind of their own.
He didn’t give me time to recover as he pushed his pants and underwear down and parted my legs further. He squatted slightly then slammed into me, burying himself fully, my body stretching in accommodation to his size.
For a moment, we both savored the union of our bodies, then his want took over and he pulled back, almost out of me. He slid in again, this time a little slower, enjoying the sweet friction he created with his thrust.
I disentangled my left leg from my panties and slid them off my foot, then bent my leg up to hook around his waist. His size and girth were exquisite, and I wanted to feel him inside me as much as I could; I wanted to open as far as I could for him. He moaned in response, feeling himself go deeper, losing himself in me.
He braced one hand against the wall to the side of me and with the other he gripped my breast through my thin shirt, massaging roughly, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger so it was painfully hard. The sensation spread through my chest and into my pelvis, the pain and the pleasure mixing in a sweet contradiction.
His mouth dropped open and his breath was coming in short pants now, and his thrusting became more irregular. I could tell he was close to coming, and I met his movements. I could feel another orgasm of my own starting and I gritted my teeth, willing the wave to crash.
As we met each other’s thrusts we both toppled over the brinks of our climaxes together, the pleasure leaving us both breathless.
We came back to ourselves, and he pulled out. I felt thick wetness cover my upper thighs as he pulled me towards the bedroom. Once inside, we collapsed in a heap together on the king bed.
“Did that solve your problem?” I asked wryly, when we both caught our breaths.
“Dammit,” he muttered, passing a hand over his face, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “I’m pretty sure that complicated
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