The Billionaire's Disgraced Virgin (Billionaire Knights Book 2) by Nic Saint Page B

thrust headlong into a whirlpool of urgent need and obliterating arousal. It licked at his self-control and broke through the dam he’d erected after his father’s death. After he’d told himself that to be with a woman was an exercise in self-control lest he watch his life be destroyed like his father’s life had.
    Gone were all those sacred oaths he’d sworn, swept away in the raging torrent of sensuous need that crashed through him, destroying everything in its path. He pushed her down onto the bed and drank deeply and with abandon from her lips, his fingers seeking and finding her swollen nipples as he tormented them between thumb and forefinger. And even as his knee parted her thighs, a warning bell sounded in his head, finally penetrating the erotic blanket that was covering him. And then, fighting to regain his self-control, he dragged his lips from hers, and as they both stared at one another, panting and faces flushed, lips bruised and swollen, he shook his head like a prizefighter after receiving a knock-out punch, and reluctantly released her, rolling onto his back.
    What the hell was he doing? She was in love with Lewis Dixon! Colluding with the guy against him and his company! She’d probably exchanged his face for Dixon’s, her mind supplying the images her body needed to get off!
    With a disgusted groan, he rose from the bed and strode to the door. Turning back, he regarded her sternly. “I can assure you this won’t happen again,” he growled viciously, and then walked out and slammed the door shut behind him.
    Sobs racked Chloe’s chest. She didn’t know what had come over her. It was as if all those years of fasting had developed a sexual appetite that had now grown so overpowering the slightest provocation had lit the fuse and caused the devastating conflagration. As if Mike’s kiss had caused the barren nature of her sexuality to suddenly explode into a full-blown forest fire, blazing out of control.
    Any man could have caused this, she knew. Any man’s erotic caress.
    But then why was she feeling such a powerful urge to run after Mike and beg him not to leave? Why had the touch of his fingers on her naked skin, and his lips on hers, been of such sweet and wondrous satisfaction, as if quenching a thirst she’d never even known existed? She was still breathing erratically, her breasts heavy and aching with need, her heart beating spasmodically. Something momentous had just happened, she recognized. Something portentous and life-changing. “Mike. Oh, Mike,” she whispered, allowing her fingers to touch the lips he’d bruised with his heated kisses, then along her neck to her breasts where his touch had elicited such an explosive response of pure need and pleasure.
    Yes, something had changed. The sensuous nature of her being she’d thought had died with Lewis was still alive and had just been swept into full bloom again under Mike’s expert tutelage. And now he was gone, telling her this would never happen again. He was obviously sorry he’d allowed himself to be carried away.
    Of course he was! He was her boss—she a mere accountant. She had no business cavorting with him. Perhaps he had a girlfriend—maybe he even was engaged! But if he was, would he have kissed her? Probably not. Of course not!
    But he was right. This shouldn’t have happened. Still she was glad that it had. She just hoped he wouldn’t think less of her now, after she’d so wantonly thrown herself at him. And then she realized that even more than before he must never discover her true identity. After what had just happened between them he’d draw the inevitable conclusion that she really was the kind of woman her Men’s Monthly image suggested. That she really was a wanton harlot ready to throw herself at any man willing to give her the pleasure she so brazenly sought.
    She didn’t know why, but Mike of all people must remain in the dark about who she really was. Because he was her boss, she told herself, and