Page 30 of A Billion-Dollar Heir For Christmas

Because his hard hands moved her until she was kneeling up, then moving so she could press down on that thick, hard length of him.

And it was...different. He felt bigger, harder. She was so sensitive, so new.

Or maybe it was because he lay there beneath her, watching her closely with those glorious eyes gleaming darkly, and once he had her positioned the way he wanted, he...took his time.

First he played a bit at her entrance, and then, when she shook and sobbed and cursed his name, he laughed. Then he eased himself inside, only slightly. Only a little, then pulled back out.

Then he did it again.

And again.

Then, with that iron clasp on her hips that prevented her from doing anything but giving herself over into his hands, he eased in just the faintest little bit more, then back out.

And he seemed perfectly content to continue doing exactly that. Moving into her a little more each time, but only in the tiniest increments.

But so slowly.

So terribly, wonderfully slowly and with such perfect control that it made Lillie almost embarrassingly aware of how out of control she was. Outside herself, turned inside out.

At points she tried to fight, but it was no use. He would not let her simply sink down and take all of him. He would not let her control a thing.

Instead, he murmured words of encouragement in several languages. He made that low, growling sort of noise that seemed to set each and every one of her nerve endings on fire.

His voice was a kind of husky croon, its own sensual bombardment.

Lillie found herself with her head thrown back, her hair everywhere, her back arched so intensely it should have hurt.

And it was possible it took whole lifetimes before he finally lowered her all the way down, so that he was embedded inside her as deep as he could go.

Once he did, she could do nothing but pant as she opened her eyes and stared down at him. Not sure if she wanted to kiss him or kill him as she trembled, still held fast in between his hands.

Again, that smile of his moved over his stern face. He lifted her up and she almost cried, thinking he was starting the whole process over again—

But instead, Tiago thrust up into her and brought her down hard to meet him, and it was like everything before was thunder, but this—

This was the lightning.

It hit her, she ignited, and then she splintered into too many pieces to ever fully recover.

She shook and shook. She rocked against him, sobbing out the white-hot, overwhelming pleasure of this. Of him.

Tiago moved beneath her, but only enough to keep her going and going, dancing in the flames, shaking and sobbing.

Until finally she was limp and dazed, and so he sat up. Staying deep inside her, he pulled her against his chest and began to move her that way.

And once again, every thrust was a revelation.

Lillie was oversensitive, or maybe it was just him, but all she could seem to do was burst into flames. Again and again, one time barreling straight into the next. He wrapped his arms around her back, so that all she had to do was meet his thrusts as best she could—

Because it was all too much. And it was nowhere near enough. It felt brand-new and as if she’d finally come home.

She lost count of the times she shivered and sobbed her way over that cliff. Each time was infused with that lightning and as much of a glorious shock as the first. He made her fall apart with her hands sunk deep in his hair, and his in hers, that tiny stinging, making it better. Different.

Another time, she was kissing him hungrily, deeply. So that he was inside her in two places, her nipples rubbing against his chest, so she simply imploded there, unable to do anything at all but let it happen.

Again and again she caught fire and each and every time, he caught her as she came down and threw her straight back up again.

Demonstrating all the while that iron control that she’d thought about far too many times over the past months. And thinking about it now, while experiencing it again, had predictable results. Because the harder he was inside her, the more the intensity of the way he held himself back made his eyes dark and gleaming, the softer she was. The hotter she was.