Read Taken By The Billionaire for Free Online

was afraid that I was starting to fall for him. It was turning into something more than sex and I was worried about what might happen in the future.
     
    “Damien,” I gasped. “Please. I’m not sure about all this. I think we’re moving way too fast. I’m scared of being hurt again.”
     
    He instantly let go of me, his face creased with concern.
     
    “Hey,” he said in that drawling accent of his. “We can take it as slow as you like, Kylie.” He smirked and pointed at my nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my tee-shirt. “But I can see you really want me to carry on right now.”
     
    “God, Damien, I do, I do so want you to keep on doing it; I’m just afraid for my heart. It’s so soon after …”
     
    “Shush, Kylie,” Damien murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth while he stroked my hair. “Don’t think about it. Don’t let that guy or your sister affect you.”
     
    Damien reached under me and lifted my ass from the dressing table. His hand slid up my leg and under my short denim skirt.
     
    “Oh, God,” I moaned when I heard a rent of fragile cotton as he ripped the waistband of my underwear. “What are you doing to me?”
     
    “Taking you there,” Damien murmured before he eased down between my legs and pushed my thighs wide open.
     
    I wriggled my butt in my eagerness to get my skirt bunched up at my hips. I wanted him to look at me, to see how hot he made me.
     
    His tongue touched me and I gasped, my fingers pushing through his short, tick hair so I could pull him against me.
     
    “Deep,” I groaned. “Push deep.” I felt him squirming into those private places, his breath hot as it wafted over my swollen center.
     
    His tongue and fingers worked at me, rubbing and probing and causing such tingles and tiny pulses in my flesh that I cried out and arched my back and came so hard on his face.
     
    “Good, eh?” Damien said as he wiped a hand across his mouth. “You having a good time? Am I taking it slow enough?”
     
    That wasn’t the kind of slow I meant and he knew it, but he also knew how much I’d enjoy having his face between my thighs. He kissed me, and the dirty bastard slid his tongue into my mouth and forced me to taste myself.
     
    “Jesus,” I blasphemed when, after that kiss, he dropped to his knees and took me with his mouth again.
     
    We were kissing when my second climax hit with a trembling, almost violent thrashing of arms and legs. I grunted and groaned and squealed as my thighs shivered and my back arched, and I swear I squirted onto Damien’s wrist as his fingers curled and rubbed inside me, insistent and unrelenting as they took me higher than I’ve ever been before.
     
    For the rest of that day I acted my ass off, euphoric on such a rush of emotion caused by Damien that I surprised myself at how good I actually was in front of the camera.
     
    I didn’t know then, but there were forces at work behind the scenes that were conspiring to upset the little world I shared with Damien.
     
    The next day’s filming came and I crashed to Earth.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    3
     
    As soon as I saw the word on the page I felt myself go all hot and clammy.
     
    “We just added to the script,” Damien said. “Alexandra had the idea and I think it’ll work.” He looked up from the sheet of paper and I saw is brow crease with concern. “What’s wrong?” Then he grinned. “Oh, don’t worry; it won’t be a real spider that you have to step on. We’ll have a fake one made up for that scene. At first we’ll shoot the scenes of the live one crawling around, milked of venom or whatever the hell they do. You won’t even see the real one if you don’t want to.”
     
    And that was it, or so Damien thought. He didn’t know just how bad my phobia of spiders is. He probably thought I was just being a girl, him being the super-tough he-man and all. But it was worse