Beneath the Fallen Stars - Page 62

Until we step out of the elevator and stop in front of our room. I won’t be seeing him in swim trunks. No, I’ll be seeing him in less. I’ll be seeing him in nothing.

My heart trips over itself with anticipation.

He pushes open the door and allows me to step inside first. The room looks to have been updated fairly recently. Instead of the standard floral bedspreads and pretty landscape portraits, this one is decorated in rich blues and grays. There are turquoise pillows on top of the deep navy and gray bedding on the biggest king-size bed I’ve ever seen. The truth is it’s probably the same size as every other king-size bed out there, but for some reason, in the middle of the small suite, it looks massive.

In the corner of the room is a small jacuzzi tub. I’ve never understood why they put them in the middle of the living and sleeping space, but in this moment, I don’t care about the reason. All I can think about is getting inside that tub, the hot, bubbly water soothing tired and achy muscles.

And after feeling his erection press against me, after waking up with it wedged between my ass cheeks early this morning, I’m sure to be very achy later this evening.

“So,” he starts, dropping our bags on the floor.

“So,” I mimic, turning and facing where he stands.

“What do you want to do first? Snack from the minibar? Relax in that tub?”

I step forward and run my hands up his chest. “I didn’t bring my swimming suit,” I whisper coyly.

He feigns shock. “You didn’t? But how will we soak in that jacuzzi?”

I suggestively bat my eyelashes. “Well, I suppose I could go without. If you, you know, promise not to look.”

Ford can tell I’m not serious, and his eyes dilate with a fresh wave of need. “I can’t promise that, sweetness.”

“Well, good, because I won’t promise that either. If you’re naked, I’m definitely going to be peeking.”

He chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” I mumble, right before I press my lips—and my chest—against his.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me into the air as he devours my mouth. My ankles lock at his lower back, my core spread wide open for him. I can feel the head of his cock pressing directly against the place I need him most. The sensation rips a moan of pleasure from my lips as I gently rock forward, seeking sweet friction.

“You can stop this at any time, Shayne. All you have to do is say the words. I didn’t necessarily bring you here to fuck you. I’d be okay with just holding you close,” he pants, his serious gaze locked with mine.

“I want this. I want you. Please.”

Heat flares in those alluring green orbs. Ford nods once before moving us to the bed. He gently lays me back on the bedspread, his large body covering mine. His magical lips press against mine once more in the most delicious of kisses. It’s part exploratory, part demanding, and all Ford.

He slowly kisses down my neck, his warm palm grazing against my side as he pushes my shirt up. My nipples pebble against my bra, and it’s as if they already know what’s to come. Ford helps me take off my shirt, leaving me covered in only thin, soft pink lace. He trails kisses over the mounds of my breasts before flicking his tongue over the first nipple. A jolt of need streaks through my veins, leaving me yearning for more.

When he gets to the second nipple, I eagerly anticipate the flick, only that’s not what happens. Ford gently bites down on the hard peak, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure rolling through my body. I moan loudly and rock my hips upward against his erection. He hisses at the contact and clamps down on my nipple a second time. I cry out at the sharp nip of pain, only to have it replaced quickly by bliss as he sucks it into his warm mouth.

“What do you say we take this off?” he asks, his voice husky.

“I say do it quickly,” I pant, needing to feel his mouth on me as soon as possible.

Ford chuckles as he reaches back and unfastens my bra, quickly pulling the lace down and completely exposing my breasts. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Then his mouth returns to my nipples, licking and sucking like it’s his job. Big hands come in to play too, cupping and squeezing each one, rolling each bud between his thumb and index finger. The onslaught of sensations has me writhing beneath him, all but begging. I don’t know if it’s for more or for him to stop torturing me and make me come.

“I-I need…” I murmur, thrashing my head from side to side.

“What do you need, beautiful?” Lick. Suck. I can’t think. “Do you want more? Do you want me to take off your pants and taste you? Devour your sweet, wet pussy?”

Tags: Kaylee Ryan Romance
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