Losing Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #1)

He gripped her hips as he pumped into her hard and fast. She spiraled out of control, reaching for something, every cell focused on the hard male shaft thrusting between her thighs.

She moaned and pushed back against him. She was so close, but release eluded her, and she thought she might go mad, the sensations too intense.

Then he slid one hand around her, burrowed between her thighs, found her clit, rubbed once, twice, and she exploded. A second later, his cock pulsed inside her, signaling that he’d found his own release.

They stood wrapped together as her heart rate slowed and the ripples of pleasure subsided.

“That was…”

“Good?”

“Sensational.”

“Well, let’s get inside, and we can fulfill a few more of my fantasies.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her easily across the rooftop to a steel door. “Crap,” he said. “Do you have the security codes?”

“They’re in my bag.”

He looked back at their abandoned luggage, then at her in his arms, a small frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“You can put me down. I can walk.” At least she was pretty sure she could walk, though her legs still felt shaky. She’d thought on top of the desk was as good as it got. Boy, she’d been wrong. She had another little twinge as she remembered the feel of him deep inside her.

“I like carrying you. It gives me the illusion that you’ll let me take care of you.”

Her brows drew together. “I can take care of myself.”

“Couldn’t you pretend to pander to my masculine pride?”

“I don’t think your masculine pride needs any pandering.”

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered. “We men like to imagine we’re useful.”

“Oh, you’re very useful, but that doesn’t mean you have to be all macho, take control all of the time.”

Surprise flickered across his face. “You believe I try to control you? Sweetheart, not even close.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he gave her a swift kiss and put her down to retrieve the bags. Did he really believe he wasn’t controlling? Or was it just a matter of relativity?

Kim took her bag from him and rummaged through it for the property file. She punched in the code, and the door swung open. But she hesitated before entering. “You really don’t think you’re controlling?”

“If I was, I’d have tied you to the bed years ago and kept you there. Where you belong.”

“Ha. I might think you’re a sexist pig from that comment, but I know you’re not.”

“Not with women in general. Maybe with you a little. Something about having you tied up and helpless appeals to me.”

“Pervert. I’m getting a little concerned about your fantasies,” she muttered as she followed him inside. He appeared to know where he was going. “Have you been here before?” she asked.

“I came to a party once, soon after Kieran bought the place. It’s great for a getaway, but a security nightmare. There’s a lot of valuable stuff in here, and it’s vulnerable.”

“Well, it won’t be when we’ve finished.”

“Tomorrow. Tonight I have plans.”

So did she. But first, she needed food. She hadn’t had lunch; she’d been too on edge waiting for Jake to call. Then too on edge waiting for him to turn up. And now she was starving.

Jake led her down two flights of narrow stone steps and into a wider corridor. The place had been modernized very sympathetically so it still bore the resemblance to a medieval castle inside, with bare stone walls covered by tapestries and paintings. He eventually came to a halt outside a large oak door decorated with iron and with a big iron key in the lock.

“Here we are,” he said.

Kim twisted the key. It turned smoothly, and she pushed open the heavy door.

“This is the master bedroom,” Jake said, stepping in behind her.



Jake studied her as she took in the room. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the bed. The thing was impressive, a huge four-poster with crimson brocade hangings.

Pleasure still coursed through him, and he already wanted her again. The whole time he’d been away he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Kim and this weekend. He’d jerked off so many times he’d lost count. Now they were here.

He wanted food, and then he wanted to make love with Kim again. This time in bed. Oddly, beds hadn’t featured much in his fantasies. But this one, with its brocade hangings tied back with heavy crimson cords, had possibilities. He stroked his finger over a velvet cord. It was soft to the touch.

He thought about his fantasy of tying her to the bed and his cock pulsed. Definite possibilities. Glancing across, he found Kim watching him, her regard flicking from the cord, to his hand, and back to the bed.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “I hope there’s some food. The housekeeper was supposed to leave the place stocked for the weekend and then make herself scarce.”