I was so shocked by his reaction, a bark of laughter escaped, and I looked around to see if anyone noticed. But it was still just us like we were in our own bubble.
The smile slipped, and his eyes turned serious, his hands tightening on my waist. “It’s not your fault, Carina. He made those decisions when he could have said no.”
I hadn’t had anyone to really talk about the breakup with. Not the real reason or the part I played in our demise, and until now—with Ian staring down at me, looking more serious than I’d ever seen him—I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone to say those words to me. His hands tightened around my waist, slowly creeping closer to my ass. They were so large they almost spanned from the curve of my bottom to my shoulder blades. Leaning down to make sure I couldn’t look away, his chest brushed mine and my nipples pebbled from the contact.
“And just so you know,” he growled, his tone full of possession. “I would never, ever, share you. You would belong to me and only me. I’d take care of you, fill you up, so there was no room for anyone else in our bed.”
Everything faded as I stared into his eyes, my chest heaving over my panting breaths. I tried to swallow the desire burning through my veins at his words. Had there ever been anyone that had looked at me so wholly, I knew they couldn’t see anyone else? Heat bled through my chest, down my abdomen and sinking into my core where it throbbed. I rubbed my legs side to side, and the ache felt impossible to ignore. It consumed me.
I twisted out of his arms and latched onto his hand, dragging him behind me to grab my purse and head out the doors to the lobby. I didn’t say goodbye or acknowledge anyone staring. My pulse pounded with a need I couldn’t pretend didn’t exist anymore.
Ian caught on to my plan and muttered, “Oh, fuck yes.”
Then he was the one leading me, dragging me past people lingering in the sitting areas staring at the couple damn near running through the hotel.
He pushed through a door, and I saw the men’s bathroom sign before he dragged me inside. He checked the stalls and locked the door.
I was in the middle of the large bathroom when he turned to face me. He prowled across the room, his dark suit doing nothing to mask the power and command underneath.
When he reached me, he didn’t hesitate, he gripped my ass and hoisted me up, turning and walking to set me down on the counter.
As soon as I was steady, he attacked my mouth. Our lips clashed, and our tongues fought for dominance. I buried my hands in his hair and held him to me, not even wanting to come up for air. But I had to pull back to gasp when his fingers slid into my panties and tore through the thin lace at my hips.
Ian, the consummate jokester, towered over me with the promise of domination, and I was ready to submit. He tugged the underwear free and shoved them in his pocket as he sank to his knees, shoving mine apart.
The skirt of my dress was pushed to my hips, and cold air caressed my wet folds. I almost jerked off the counter when a rough finger slid from my clit to circle my opening.
“Such a pretty pussy. So wet.” I held my breath as his head lowered, and he dragged an illicit tongue from below my opening up to circle my bundle of nerves.
“Is all this wetness for me? Do I make your cunt wet and beg for more?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
His smirk was the last thing I saw because as soon as his mouth latched on to my pussy, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I did nothing but feel.
Feel the way he sucked on each fold. Feel the way his tongue pushed in and out of me as his thumb circled my clit. Feel the way he bit at the tender flesh as two fingers slid into me slowly. Feel the way they curled as he sucked me to one of the best orgasms I’d ever had. I was biting my palm, barely holding back my screams when he eased me back to earth.
He peppered kisses everywhere he could reach from his crouched position.
“Carina.”
Just my name and I knew I’d used my last life. There was no more pretending this wasn’t happening. And right then, in the men’s bathroom of my ex-fiancé’s wedding, I didn’t want to.
“Please tell me that’s not it. Please tell me I can fuck this pussy.”
“Yes,” I panted, my lungs still working overtime with his words caressing my soaked folds.