Bound To A Billionaire: Protecting His Defiant Innocent (Bound to a Billionaire) / Claiming His One-Night Baby / Buying His Bride of Convenience

‘I’m not staying with someone who can barely look at me and gets irritated every time I open my mouth.’

Without him knowing how it happened, his fingers closed around the delicate wrists. A moment later he’d pulled her to him so their bodies were flush, her breasts pressed against his chest.

‘I don’t dislike you,’ he ground out, gazing down at the spitting eyes, the luminous skin, the lips that begged to be kissed... ‘Don’t you see that? I like you too much.’

For long, long moments they did nothing but stare at each other until the anger that blazed so brightly in her eyes softened to blaze with something that struck straight into his loins.

Francesca stared helplessly at the man who had her in a grip so tight she could never break free yet which elicited not the slightest amount of pain.

The humiliation that had washed over her like a cold shower at the realisation she’d been longing for a man who hated her vanished as awareness filled her in its stead, awareness of his heat, of being held against this dangerously masculine man her body craved.

She had no conscious reckoning of the change in him, of how the fury deepened into something so dark and molten her chest filled, of the deepening of his breaths as he continued to gaze down at her...

‘I can’t hear your voice without becoming aroused,’ he said, his voice low, pained. ‘I can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. I can’t breathe your scent without wanting to possess you. Wanting you like this is torture.’

‘Then stop fighting it,’ she whispered.

Later she would have no conscious remembrance of the moment his lips moulded onto hers. It was like a beast that lived inside them both suddenly became unleashed.

There was nothing gentle about his kiss or her response to it. It burned her, ravaged her. All her nerve endings exploded and leapt onto him. The hand that had been holding her wrists was now wrapped tightly around her waist, her arms now looped tightly around his neck, kissing as if they needed the other for air, lips parted, devouring each other.

She grabbed at the back of his head and raked her fingers through his hair, nuzzling, kissing, nipping, her senses filling with his very essence, all the hunger she had for him soaring free.

His arousal pressed hard and huge against her belly, his hands roamed her contours, kneading, fingers biting. The evidence of his desire for her was dizzying and heightened her own. The desire she’d experienced during the alcohol-induced fumble that had gone further than either of them had expected had been like a carnal dream but this...sober...everything felt gloriously, dizzily heightened and urgent, no slow sensual build-up, her body craving nothing less than full possession.

He broke the kiss to place his hands at her waist and lift her into the air like a ballet dancer lifting his partner. Her hair fell onto his shoulders and he turned his face to breathe the scent of it in. ‘Dios, I want you,’ he muttered raggedly.

Without another word said he sat her on the edge of the bed and pressed her down so he lay on top of her, crushing her, his heart drumming strongly enough for her to feel it against her own hammering heart. Their lips entwined in another deep, hungry kiss and he ran a hand up her thigh to take the hem of her dress and raise it to her waist.

Needing to touch him, she ran her fingers down his back and revelled in the smoothness of his skin, the muscles that bunched beneath her touch, then traced lower to the tight buttocks. Grasping frantically, she found the waistband of his boxers and tugged at them. Felipe’s hand covered hers and together they shifted them down his hips, allowing his erection to spring free.

Her eyes flew open to feel the weight of his excitement against her inner thigh, a deep throb pulsing through her to know this was for her. Her own arousal had melted into a mass of heat and dampness, all concentrating in the one area he was so close to taking possession of.

Francesca had never dreamt she was capable of such wanton, reckless carnality, that her flesh could feel like a living being, that desire could beat like a drum with a rhythm felt in her every pore.

This, she thought dreamily... This...

Instinct had her raising her thighs and wrapping her legs around Felipe’s waist, urging him on, her body speaking the language she had never learned.

The tip of his erection found where it needed to be with no guidance from either of them and in one driving thrust he was inside her.

It happened so quickly that it took a few beats for her brain to register the sharp pain and when it did register, the gasp of relief at his possession that had flown from her mouth turned into a gasp of shock and stilled on her lips.

Felipe froze.

The heady urgency of his desire deflated like a punctured balloon. He gazed down in horror at Francesca’s whitening face.

It wasn’t possible...

His head pounded loudly, bells clanging, sirens wailing.

It wasn’t possible.

With as great a care as he could manage, he withdrew from her and swung his legs over to rest on the floor then grabbed the back of his neck and dug his fingers into it.

The beat of his heart was out of time.

She didn’t move.

He didn’t move.

For the longest time he sat on the bed staring incomprehensibly at the thick carpet while she lay on the bed gazing mutely at the ceiling.

He wanted to be sick. There was movement beside him as Francesca slowly sat up.

A trembling finger was placed lightly on his shoulder.

‘Felipe...’

Slowly he raised his head and caught sight of himself in the mirror on the wall.

The reflection gazing back was a man he didn’t recognise.

He didn’t think he would ever recognise himself again.

CHAPTER TEN (#u11800846-8f89-5170-a4c6-b3cb934c29db)

WHEN HIS THROAT had loosened enough so he could breathe, Felipe got to his feet and put his boxers on. Only then did he turn to the hunched figure in the centre of the bed. She still had her dress on.

Francesca’s eyes were huge but when he met them he saw they were filled with defiance as well as misery.

With a sigh, he sank back onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. ‘You should have told me.’

Her voice was low but steady. ‘If I’d told you, you would have stopped.’

‘Damn right I would have stopped.’ He swore loudly as he remembered something else that made the hairs on arms lift. ‘We didn’t even use protection.’ Not that they’d needed it. It had been over almost as soon as it had begun.

‘I’m on the Pill,’ she mumbled.

‘Are you?’ he demanded. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

A quick shake of her head. ‘I used to have terrible pains every month. The Pill helped.’

‘Francesca... Dios...’ He raised his head and met her gaze. ‘What were you thinking?’

She didn’t answer.

‘Was it your intention to make me hate myself?’