Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 4

My heart pounded harder.

He unbuckled his belt, opened his pants, and let them drop, revealing tight black briefs clinging to his body. And I swear, I almost forgot to breathe. Every muscle, every line of his body looked sculpted for sin. And he knew it.

He swam toward me slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. But his eyes said something else. He was hungry. For me.

For a moment, I hesitated. A stranger pretending to be rich by day, now looking at me like I was something special. What was I even doing? But then I remembered Alex, the way he looked at me at the wedding, the way Elise smiled with pity, like I was too pathetic to ever find someone like Christian on my own. I needed this. I needed to feel wanted again, even if it was by a man I was paying.

When he was close enough, his hands slid around my waist under the water, his fingers tracing a slow path across my tingling skin.

"You're trembling," he murmured, his mouth dangerously close to mine.

"I'm not."

He smiled. That damned, seductive smile.

"We'll see."

His hands drifted lower, gliding along my back, over the curve of my hip, until they stopped between my thighs.

And then, he touched me.

I let out a sharp breath, clutching at his shoulders.

His touch wasn't impatient. It was torturous.

His fingertips moved like he was mapping me, studying my skin, savoring every little reaction. Like he wanted to prolong every second.

And I was trembling.

He knew it.

But he didn't give me time to think.

He lifted me effortlessly into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist without a thought. And that was when I felt his arousal pressed firmly against me, hard, hot, pulsing. And it was big. Very big.

A part of me, the rational part, screamed that he was only doing his job. That every calculated touch, every intense look, every teasing whisper was just part of his act. But right then, I didn't care. I needed to feel desired. I needed to drown out those cruel words that still echoed in my head, 'You were always so boring.'

"You like it when I tease you, don't you?" he murmured, his mouth trailing along my neck.

My nails dug into his shoulders when I felt his warm tongue trace a slow path across my skin.

"Christian…"

He let out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against me, making me gasp.

"You'd better hold on."

And then, he really kissed me. It wasn't gentle. It was deep, demanding, hot.

His hands slid over my wet body, exploring, gripping, claiming. Every touch felt deliberate, like he knew exactly where to place his fingers, how to press against my skin at just the right angle, how to make me lose control.

And I did.

I lost control, lost track of time, lost the memory of the pain that had been haunting me. For those moments, there was only him and me, and the electric sensations shooting through my body every time he touched me.

My fingers tangled in his wet hair, pulling, guiding, demanding more.

He pressed me tighter against him and moved, swimming with me to the edge of the pool, where he trapped me against the wall, his strong, hot body pressing into mine.

"Now there's nowhere to run," he whispered against my lips.

I let out a short, breathless laugh.

"And who said I want to run?"

He smiled, satisfied.

The wet bra vanished before I even realized it, his fingers far too skilled. And then his mouth was there. Heat. Tongue. Teeth grazing. I yanked his hair when his tongue circled my nipple and he sucked hard.

"Christian…"

"You have the sweetest way of saying my name."

'If that's even your real name,' I thought for a fleeting moment. How many times had he played this role? How many women had moaned a name that wasn't even his?

His fingers slid along the edge of my soaked panties, tugged—and then they were gone.

The water rippled around us with every movement, and when he positioned me exactly where he wanted, there was no going back.

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