Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 357

Chapter 357

“Welcome to your honeymoon, Aphrodite,” he whispered, and that rough voice which was already the soundtrack of my freedom sent a shiver down my spine despite the humid heat wrapping around us.

He looked at me. Really looked at me. He must have seen the exhaustion written all over my face, the greasy hair, the travel-worn skin.

“We need a shower. Now,” he said, his voice low and urgent, and it wasn’t just about getting clean.

Without ceremony, his hands found the strap of my dress. He lifted the fabric, and I raised my arms without hesitation, letting him strip away that last layer of grime, and the memory of the journey. The dress fell onto the wooden floor. He was already pulling off his own shirt, and within seconds we were both naked, facing each other in that luxury bungalow that smelled like salt air and new beginnings.

He took my hand and led me into the bathroom. The glass shower was spacious and modern. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until warm steam began to fill the space.

The first rush of warm water against my back felt almost religious. I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward, a long, deep sigh slipping from my lips. Thirty hours of travel washed away, and with it, some of the tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice muffled by the water.

I turned to face him. He grabbed the liquid soap from the shelf and lathered his hands. Then those soapy hands landed on my shoulders. His grip was firm, massaging away the strain of the trip, the nerves, the escape.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands sliding down my back to my ass, pulling me gently against him. “Let me take care of you now.”

Water streamed over our naked bodies. My breasts pressed against his chest. I could feel every hard muscle, every sharp line of him. His cock, already hard, pressed against my stomach was not subtle or accidental. It was

a statement.

My hands went to his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin, tracing tattoos I wanted to decipher with my fingers and my tongue.

He slid lower, his soapy hands washing my legs, touching me with a confidence that bordered on possessive. When he straightened again, his face was inches from mine, water dripping from his lashes.

“Better?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Better,” I breathed, and it had nothing to do with the hot water.

He tilted his head and claimed my mouth in a kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It was urgent, hungry, like he’d been waiting for this moment since I stepped onto that plane. His tongue invaded my mouth, and my hands tangled in his wet hair, pulling him closer.

His kisses moved down my neck, my shoulder, the curve of my breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking firmly, precisely, making me moan and arch against the cool glass wall. The water was hot, but it was his body and his mouth that set me on fire.

His hands slid lower, working the soap between my thighs, his fingers finding my clit with an intention that had

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nothing to do with washing anymore. I moaned out loud, gripping his shoulders to keep from collapsing.

“Open,” he commanded

my lips, his voice thick with desire.

I spread my legs, and his fingers slid inside me moving in a deep, steady rhythm that made stars explode behind my eyes. The glass wall was the only thing keeping me upright.

ike this?” he growled, feeling me clench around his fingers. “Come for me, Aphrodite. Come now.”

And I did. With a cry swallowed by the sound of the water, my body shook violently in his arms. He held me firmly, supporting my weight, kissing my neck as the wave of pleasure tore through me.

When the last tremor faded, he turned off the water. The sudden silence was broken only by our ragged breathing. He grabbed a large, plush towel and dried me quickly, efficiently, before drying himself the same way.

Without a word, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. The large bed, dressed in pristine white sheets, looked like an oasis.

He laid me down in the center of it and stood at the edge, looking at me. The fading light gilded his skin, his tattoos, the body I already knew intimately without knowing his name.

“Now,” he said, his voice a rough promise, “it’s my turn.”

He climbed onto the bed, settling between my legs. His hands spread my thighs, and he leaned down, his mouth finding me in a deep, languid kiss, drinking in the remnants of my pleasure. I moaned, my hips lifting on instinct. His tongue was a tool of sweet torture now-slow, deliberate, savoring every reaction he drew from me.

When he rose over me, his body aligning with mine, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and I obeyed, caught in his gaze.

He entered me in one deep, powerful thrust, filling every empty space. A raw groan tore from both of us. He began to move, a slow, sensual rhythm that quickly turned urgent, frantic. Every thrust was a claim, every moan a confirmation. I wrapped my legs around him, my nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, deeper.

Sweat mixed with the lingering water on our skin. The sound of our bodies meeting, our muffled moans, became the only music. He shifted the angle, hitting a place inside me that made my eyes roll back.

“Please…” I moaned. “Don’t stop…”

He smiled a predatory, satisfied smile. And focused right there, his hips driving into mine with devastating precision. The pressure built again, faster and stronger this time.

“Come with me,” he growled into my ear, his voice tight with strain. “Now.”

It was the command I needed. My body shattered around him, a violent, silent orgasm that stole the air from my lungs. He groaned my fake name Aphrodite and gripped my hips hard, burying himself deep as his own release

hit him.

We collapsed together, breathless, slick with sweat and satisfaction. He rolled to the side but pulled me with him, my face pressed to his chest, where I could hear his heart pounding, slowly beginning to calm.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. The exhaustion from thirty hours of travel finally caught up with me,

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