The elevator doors finally open with a ding. We rush out, laughing breathlessly like a couple of horny teenagers. He stops in front of a door and sticks his key card in. The light blinks red. I drum my fingers against the wall. The hotel needs to upgrade its card reader. Doesn’t their management know their guests’ time is money?
He tries again. But the door remains locked.
“Shit. Why isn’t this working?” he mutters.
“Maybe they made a mistake.” Which is possible. But very irritating in a hotel of the Aylster’s caliber.
“They better not have.” He checks the envelope that key card came in, then swears under his breath. “Damn it. Wrong room.”
I laugh at his chagrined look.
He pulls me down the hallway. Finally, we stop at the door at the end of the long corridor.
He sticks his card in, then dramatically intones, “Open sesame.”
The lock clicks. Finally!
He turns the handle, and we spill into a semi-dark suite together. He puts the plastic in its slot next to the door, and all the lights in the suite come on. Very convenient, because I want to see him.
He pushes me against the wall, his mouth ravenous over mine. I kiss him back, my need no less intense than before. It’s like all the logistics of leaving the club and coming to the hotel and checking in and finding this room have whipped my lust to an Everest-like height—as though they were necessary steps before the most sumptuous meal ever.
And that sumptuous meal is definitely worth the wait and effort. I’ve never felt a hunger this deep. His dick, thick and hard, is pressing against my belly. I’m embarrassingly wet.
Our mouths still fused, he pulls the zipper on the back of my dress, his movements as urgent as the need inside me. He tugs the garment down, letting it pool around my feet. A soft sigh of admiration slips between his lips as he takes me in, his face stark with carnal delight. I’m glad I put on my best underwear today. I don’t have the biggest
breasts or the roundest ass.
But the sheer male appreciation that glimmers in his gorgeous blue eyes heats me up. I feel like I have the best body in the entire universe.
“You’re perfect,” he says, soft awe in his voice.
My toes curl in my shoes. “Take off your clothes,” I demand, feeling bold and powerful. I’ve never been wanted like this—unabashedly and so openly. It’s liberating, untying the knots of inhibition around myself and my lusty instincts. Wanted and wanton.
With a wicked grin, he gets rid of all of them in a few quick motions. Fully naked, he’s stunning. Most guys actually look better in clothes, but he’s an exception. It’s a crime against women that he has to put something on for propriety’s sake. Positively sexist.
His body is lean and beautifully muscled, not an ounce of excess fat anywhere. And his cock. It’s long, thick, veiny and pulsing, curving up like a very, very large finger beckoning. The sight makes me lick my lips.
“Gorgeous.” I flush, because I didn’t mean to say it out loud.
He laughs softly. “Glad you think so.” And then his mouth claims mine and he tunnels his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer. He’s no longer coaxing or gentle. It’s all intense heat and lust, white-hot and searing. He nimbly undoes the clasp on my bra and lets it fall. Then he’s pushing down my panties, and when they reach mid-thigh, I wriggle my hips and legs until they join my dress on the floor.
“Keep the shoes.”
The way he says it makes it sound positively filthy. I smile saucily. “You like?”
“Fucking love ’em.”
He carries me to the bed, kissing me, and lays me on the cool sheets then covers my body with his. His weight is anchoring, secure and solid. I rest my hands on his shoulders, feeling the power in the muscles, then his ass. This doesn’t seem like a dream that vanishes when you blink, but one that you can hold on to.
Our mouths seem endlessly fused. I’ve heard of drugging, addictive kisses, but I never realized what they were until now. My head is spinning, desire pulsing with every beat of my heart. Then finally, he’s moving down my body, nipping, licking, tasting. Unquenchable fire seems to burn in my gut, so hot I feel like I’m about to combust.
He pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. I arch off the bed, a strangled scream caught in my throat.
It’s insane how much I want him. It’s like my body is no longer mine to control. It can only feel and obey what he’s doing to me—and the crazy attraction between us.
“You taste amazing, Skittles, I love every inch of you.” He slips one of his long, agile fingers between my thighs. “You’re so wet. So slick.”
My muscles clench around him, but it isn’t enough to soothe aching emptiness. I spread my legs, needing more.