Billionaire's Second Chance At Love

Chapter Sixty Two

He shouldn't be kissing her. Not so soon, anyway.

He had decided to hold back, to let this mess they were in be sorted out first before finally giving in to all those desires he had been holding back for so long. But then she came to where he had asked her to, looking all concerned and frightened for him, and he couldn't help himself.

The voice that had been telling him to back off and leave this girl alone for his brother, whose heart he had already broken once, suddenly drowned in front of a different voice, one he had been suppressing all this time. That voice was louder now, almost booming and echoing, rushing through his veins and itching his hands to hold her and bend her over something hard.

Fuck, he couldn't think of anything more satisfying than to press himself against her and devour her until her sweet taste was branded on every inch of him. He didn't want to hurt her in any way, but right now, all he could think about was to kiss her, bruise her, and fuck her. Hard.

It must be the hot, raging adrenaline of the whole action-packed evening that he and Jasper had endured that made him feel so free now, so daring, so fucking unrestrained. He felt like he could do anything and get away with it. That he could claim what had been his all this time but he was such a fool to not cherish it.

He closed the distance between them, and before she could react, his lips found hers in the most passionate kiss ever. She tasted like sweet strawberries—even sweeter and prettier than he had imagined—and he savoured every second of it. Loving it. Enjoying it. Like he always wanted to. Like he always should have. Instead of being a dick, and an asshole.

His own breath caught in his throat when he felt her hands on his chest, pushing him away with barely any strength. In that moment—in that one special moment—any doubts he held at the back of his mind, that this might not be something she wanted, paused and jumped straight out of the window. He deepened the kiss, pressing her more into the wall and she moaned into his mouth, shooting the rush of blood straight to his cock.

It didn't help that she smelled so good. So damn sweet and clean and so deliciously intoxicating. He couldn't get enough of her. Even if he tried.

His big, warm hands roamed up and down her curves, playing with the ends of her hair, pinching the sensitive skin of her neck and then making their way down to her thighs. Ronin had never felt so alive, so electric. Not even when he was with Jenna all those years. They felt such a waste of time now, as if he had done a bad investment and never knew what he was missing out on until he tasted the sweet and innocent taste of the woman named Carmen Price.

It was only when he felt her hands wiggle around his stomach and up to his chest that he stopped breathing. There would be time for that later, he told himself—promised himself, swore upon all that was mighty.

After what felt like ages, he pulled away from the kiss he had been drowning in, and looked at her for a second. Her face was flushed; her eyes were half-closed and lost in some kind of pleasure he wanted so badly to give her to, but now was not the time.

He panted with his forehead pressed against her. His one hand on the wall, the other tightly wrapped around her waist. "You taste like heaven, Carmen. So sweet and perfect."

She smiled shyly at him, and he could swear his heart flipped—his whole world did.

He knew he should move away from her, but as much as he tried, he couldn't help his body—his hands, his lips—from wanting more of her. He eased his hand from the wall and bent down to her neck, pressing kisses down her hot skin, and then up to her ear. He let his breath sweep past her ear and elicited a sweet moan from her.

"The bigger jerk I've been to you, Carmen, I swear the harder I've wanted to kiss you. Always. You have no idea what you do to me," he gasped, trying to catch his own breath.