Is this really happening?

I was on the verge of hyperventilating, my whole body agitated and languorous at the same time. His breath was hot on the curve of my neck. Every cell in me was poised in a fight or flight response—the only question was what was I fighting? Myself? This crazy attraction? My better judgment?

My feet splashed as I pulled my legs up and swung away from Nathan. I put them down on the towel he laid on the floor. From beside me, he pulled up the edges and patted my ankles and the tops of my feet dry.

“I’m yours,” he muttered.

“What?” My breath caught in my throat. I must have misheard him. Echoes were funny things.

He pulled me up to standing, his palms cupping my elbows. His eyes were deep and green, like a quiet forest in winter, as he searched me. I dug my toes into the towel with only a little wince. Our gazes locked, he tugged the strap of my dress over my other shoulder.

“You said, ‘I’m his.’”

I nodded, my pulse in my neck fast as he bent down to touch his tongue to it.

“I have a lot of things, Zoe. I’ve owned property, managed people, held assets. Which one are you?”

His voice was silky and smooth, like fine dark chocolate just a shade short of bitter. Every hair on my body stood on end, and secret, intimate places tightened and clenched. This was the billionaire coming out to play, and I was the new kid in his sandbox.

“All three?” I croaked, recalling the mysterious toys hidden in my room. Something told me it would be all too easy to give myself over to Nathan Brownlow. To let myself become his property, have him manage me and hold my, er, assets.

“You’re learning to multi-task. New York is rubbing off on you.”

I bit back a retort about something else rubbing off on me. Too many filthy jokes had been flying around my head all evening. Now that I was drowning in a haze of arousal, though, nothing seemed at all funny.

He reached around my back and tugged my hair out my ponytail, combing it through with his fingers. Some snarls caught in his hands, tangled by wind and sweat, jerking my head back enough for him to nip the bottom side of my chin.

“You taste salty,” he noted.

Feeling off-balance, I grabbed the waistband of his pajama pants. He groaned as my knuckles nudged his hot skin underneath, his lean hips thrusting reflexively toward me.

With one hand he cradled the back of my head and directed my gaze to him.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

He was going to do more than that, hopefully. His other hand paused at the top of the zipper on my sheath dress; only the slight tremor of his fingers indicated any hesitation. If he’d paused to give me the chance to say no, he would be waiting a long time.

“Do it. I want to be yours, Nathan. Please.” I silently said the last word over and over again until his mouth covered mine.

Finally!

He took possession of me, forcing any thought other than that of him out of my head. Even unconscious rhythms such as breathing and blinking were subsumed by his power.

My lungs expanded in between the onslaught of kisses, like I was trying to right myself after a wave knocked me over at the beach. My heart thumped in time with his fingertips tapping against my neck, and stuttered with each rasp of my zipper plunging.

Nathan devoured me, alternating soft, seductive kisses with demanding, masterful sweeps of his tongue. As the back of my dress fell open, his thumbs traced the path of my spine until they hitched onto the clasp of my bra.

“Mmm, wait.” I took a step back, forgetting that my zipper was down to my ass and he’d already drawn the straps down my arms. The dress fell to the floor, landing like a snowy cloud around my tender feet.

He sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck, Zoe.”

Admiration blazed so strongly from his eyes that it embarrassed me. I wasn’t anything special. I always wanted to have a natural tan instead of being so pale I was practically see-through. The closest thing I had to a thigh gap was a space between my ankles when I stood with my legs together. My hair frizzed and my nose was too—

“Shut up. You are a fucking goddess.”

I blinked, unsure if Nathan had spoken or if my inner voice was giving me a pep talk.

“You’re wrong.” Nathan scowled. I guess it had been him, and I’d been babbling out loud. “You’re wrong, and you’re perfect.”

The logic of that escaped me, but then so did logic in general as he skimmed his hands over every single one of my perfectly wrong curves. He traced the lines of my light beige bra and thong as though they were something extraordinary rather than the only things that wouldn’t show under my white dress.

“It’s what’s in it that’s extraordinary,” he corrected.

I bit my lip. Clearly my subconscious was pretty chatty. It was time to shut her up before she cock-blocked me.

Hoping to distract the self-destructive witch inside me, I reached out to touch him. If he was going to examine every inch of my skin, then I could do the same. He was exposed from the waist up, and his loose cotton pants did nothing to hide his desire for me.

Maybe it was my age, or my lack of experience, but I didn’t have the same discipline or the same patience that he had. The second my hands lit on his bare chest I went up in flames. I needed more—more of his hands, his mouth, his fingers, his tongue, his cock…

“Nathan, please!” I didn’t even know exactly what I was pleading for, but I knew that only he could give it to me. My fingertips ran over the faint ridges of his stomach to the drawstring at his waist.

He shuddered, his eyes darkening with lust. “You want me to fuck you, Zoe?”

I might have come a little at that moment. I nodded.

He raised our joined hands above my head and walked me backwards toward his bed, carefully steering me around any tripping hazards. My breasts bounced and swayed with my arms held up, my tight, tender nipples seeking the heat of his body. With every step, Nathan regained more and more of his self-control and his possession over me.

“I want to suck your tits until you scream and I want to push aside your panties and plunge into you until… My. Cock. Owns. You.”

Yes! Some honest emotional communication! And definitely coming a little. At this point my thong was merely decorative. And soaked from tiny primal responses coming from deep within me.

“But I would be lying if I said that’s all I wanted to do,” he added as the backs of my knees hit the bed.

He lowered our hands. Disentangling his fingers from mine, he leaned forward and kissed me until I was breathless. At this point, it didn’t take much.

“Oh Zoe, I want you more than I should,” he murmured.

Yes, I was familiar with the feeling.

“But you broke the house rules, remember?”

I tilted my head back. “What?” House rules? What, my ‘curfew’? Was he joking?

“No, I’m not joking.”

My stupid inner voice was too loud. I shook my head as his hands went to my waist. “So, what, I’m grounded?” I laughed.

His green eyes narrowed to slits before he pounced. “Not exactly.”

With breakneck speed he spun me around and bent me over until I toppled over onto the bed. He put one knee on the bed beside me, manacling my wrists in front of me with his left hand.

His right arm arced back then he brought his open palm down on my ass. Hard.