She nodded. “Yes, my lips could stand to feel better,” she said in a needy whisper.
“Then let me help you feel fantastic,” he said, and he took his time, wanting to savor every single second of not only kissing her, but the time before, when he was about to kiss her. He ran his fingers over a few loose strands of her hair, so soft against his skin. He watched her, because he liked to watch, and because he liked to record a woman’s reactions, and this woman had him wanting her badly. Her brown eyes were clouded with lust, and he was sure they matched the look in his. The only difference was he would lead the kiss. He would set the pace. He liked control, and he wanted to know how she felt melting against him. He traced a finger down her jaw, and her lips parted. Her breath was soft against his face, and then he pressed his lips to hers. She tasted faintly of lipstick and vodka, and it was one of his favorite taste combinations in the world. Running his tongue across the seam of her lips, he teased at first, priming her for how he wanted to kiss her properly. Hard, passionately, the kind of kiss that would make her weak in the knees, and foggy in the head, and leave her not only wanting, but desperately needing more.
A kiss that would make her wet.
She angled her body closer, her breasts pressed against his chest, and soon her hands had found their way to his hair. Their tongues tangled in a hot duet. The temperature rose, the volume shot way up, and they were practically clawing their way through the kiss, desperate for more. Teeth, lips, mouth, tongue, all furious and fevered heat as her hands gripped his hair.
He needed to have her. Had to take her. She was hot as sin, smelled like lust, and radiated sexuality. Without her even saying it directly, he knew she was a woman who had no reservations about self-love. She’d pretty much admitted she had a bit of a porn habit, and he could see her alone in her bed, eyes fixed on filthy images online, spread out on a white comforter with her legs spread and her fingers wrapped around a red vibrator, thrusting in and out, bringing herself there.
Tonight, she didn’t need to go it solo.
He broke the kiss, and traveled to her ear, whispering hotly, “If you were to go home right now, would you touch yourself?”
“Obviously.”
“Why is it obvious?”
“Because I’m turned on as fuck, and it would be a fantastic orgasm.”
“Would you think of me as you played with yourself?” he asked, then licked the shell of her ear. She shivered against him.
“You’re giving me pretty good fodder, so I’d have to say that’d be a yes.”
“What would you imagine?” he asked, so fucking eager to know what she wanted. He shifted back, looking at her gorgeous face, her brown eyes hazy with lust. He was curious if she’d say hands, lips, tongue, or cock. Dying to know what she wanted next if she were to have her way.
She shot him a stare, her eyes hooking into his. Something dark and naughty passed over her gaze.
“I would fantasize about you finishing what you just started.”
His breath caught in his chest, and his heart stopped for a moment. The air around them was heavy, expectant, and suddenly it felt as if all the sound in the room had both stopped and been sharpened. Everything collided into this—the heavy pulsing sound of the music, the clink of glasses, the splash of liquor being poured, and then this—her breath, her chest rising and falling, and the heated look in her eyes that spelled unabashed lust.
He was going to fuck her good tonight.
CHAPTER FOUR
Stop, Don’t Stop
Her reflection in the brass doors of the elevator would give her away. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair was slipping from its clip, and the collar of her blouse already needed readjusting. It was a look she hadn’t worn in years, but it was one she found she liked on herself. The look of a woman about to have hot, dirty sex with a man she barely knew. Michelle Milo was getting some action tonight, and it wasn’t the battery-operated kind.
A couple walked behind her. A man with slick black hair had his arm draped around a young blonde. They were wrapped up in each other, but seemed to check out Michelle before they turned the corner.
She stood alone outside the elevators, waiting for Jack to return from the front desk where he was getting a room, and she practically wanted to pump her first, maybe even high-five her own reflection.
But that would be premature, right? What if he was bad in bed? What if he had a small peter? Man, what a drag when that happened. You get all hot and bothered and raring to go, and everything is clicking on all cylinders from the conversation to the connection to the magical thing known as chemistry, then bam. Tiny revealed. She crossed her fingers and sent a silent prayer to the universe—or maybe just to the Patron Saint of Endowment, hoping that such a saint existed and if she didn’t, she damn well should, because she’d have offerings of riches from women the world over—that Jack had the kind of package that would make her mouth water.
Then she chuckled to herself, almost shocked at the thoughts racing through her head. What happened to serious, focused, honest-to-a-fault Michelle who worked as a therapist and prided herself on being direct, upfront, and open? Of course, she wasn’t always upfront. She’d never told her friend Clay how she felt about him all those years. Not that it would have made a difference. He didn’t feel the same way, and who fucking cared anymore? What a welcome bit of luck that at least, for this moment in time, her mind was free of that unrequited love that had weighed her down like a heavy rusted anchor on the sea floor.
Because right now, she was living in the moment, and judging a man for the size of his cock. Or potential size, really. Hell, it felt wickedly good to let this side of her steer the ship. Far too often she was all-work-and-no-play Michelle. But she was her after-hours self now, and she hoped this man could match the ones in her fantasy. Or at the very least, the size of the phalluses in her nightstand drawer.
Jack—or Just Jack as she now thought of him—walked towards her, and he was the only one on her mind as she took him in, his tie loosened, his white shirt rumpled, his pants . . .
Her eyes had strayed there and she snapped them up quickly.
He brandished a key, flashing it at her with a knowing wink, then whispered in her ear, “Were you just checking me out?”
A flush splashed across her cheeks in a flurry. She nodded. “Caught red-handed.”
“I like that you were looking.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said, and seconds later the elevator doors opened with a swish, then closed with a swoosh. Faint music played inside, a low beat, sexy and moody. The lighting was dim and silver walls flashed their faces back at them in a midnight-blue glow. Michelle was sure this hotel was rarely used for business.
“Are you sure you were here for a business deal?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because this is a sex hotel. I think that’s the only reason people come here.”
“Then isn’t it good that we met here?” he asked, but before she could answer, he spun her around, so she faced the wall of the elevator as the lift chugged upstairs. He crowded her in, and she gripped the bar as he pressed his body against her, his firm chest flush with her spine, and his erection against her lower back. The hard, full, thick length of it.
She sighed happily, and grinned at him in the reflection, then pushed back against him, letting him know she liked what she felt.
“I’m glad you approve,” he said, in her ear, his voice low, raspy, and thoroughly intoxicating.
“Seems I do so far,” she said, as lust washed through her.
As the elevator soared, he tugged her in closer, and the heat in her core shot up. He traveled from her ear to the back of her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that made her belly clench and her thighs tighten. His hands roamed down her sides to her waist, her hips, her thighs, as he ground against her backside, giving her a hint of what was in store. “What do you want me to do to you when we get in that room?” he said, and then she g
asped when she felt his hand on the back of her knee, brushing his fingertips against her bare flesh.
“What are my choices?”
“Here are some options. Lick you, finger you, or fuck you?”
Her eyes floated closed as a wave of sparks shot through her body like a flare gun. She licked her lips. “I’m hungry. Can I have the one, two and three, please?”
“As you wish.” He moved his hand up her thigh, and she gripped the armrest harder because her legs felt wobbly from his touch. Then his palm was on her rear, and he teased at the lace of her panties with his fingers, trailing them along the edge, one finger hooking into the band. “You do have a fantastic fucking ass. Both cheeks are gorgeous,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said softly, loving his compliments.
The lift slowed as they neared the twenty-first floor.
“Almost there,” he mused as he brushed his fingers along the edge of her ass. Instinctively, she shifted her stance, opening wider, giving him access even if they were only in this elevator for ten more seconds. She wanted to be touched so badly it felt like a madness. Like she’d go insane if he teased her more with those fingers that seemed to know the path around her body. He dipped his thumb under her panties, then edged closer to where she was molten for him.
“And you are so fucking wet already,” he growled, lightly brushing his fingers over the damp scrap of fabric. Her back bowed, her body crying out for his touch. “Is this all from when I kissed you at the bar?”
“No. It’s from you trying to fuck me in an elevator,” she said, firing back. She wasn’t some blushing virgin, or some innocent wide-eyed girl, who’d never seen the world nor heard a foul word from a man. She might have been terribly unlucky in love, but she knew plenty about sex, and she wasn’t going to play the part of a sweet, shy thing. But he didn’t seem to want her to, because he slipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger through her slick flesh.
“Good, because I want to fuck you in the elevator. In the hallway. On the bed. In the shower. I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you,” he said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. They spilled out and the hall was empty. Praise the Lord of One-Night Stands, because he pushed her up against the wall in seconds, grabbing her wrists and holding them at her sides, and kissing her so hard that she was sure she might melt into a puddle of simmering lust and heat. She was wanted. Desperately wanted. By someone she craved. She had no notion when she walked into The Pierson that she’d be doing anything but walking out an hour later when her talk was done. But her plan for the evening had been upended, turned and twisted inside out into something entirely unexpected. And something she didn’t think she could stand going without. Her whole body pulsed for him, her blood thrumming through her veins to the rhythm of want, a pounding in her ears that blotted out everything but the feelings that charged through her.
She spent so much time in her head. So many moments of her life thinking, analyzing, considering.
Throwing that all out the door, she angled her hips as if she could pull him closer, even with her hands pinned. He responded with a press of his body. They were magnets tonight, crashing into their opposite charge, smashing, pushing, pulling.
His thumbs dug into her wrists as he held her tight, the pressure from them a new kind of sensation, hard against her bones. His lips smashed against hers, his mouth consuming her, taking her breath, taking her space, leaving nothing behind but hot need.
Now. That word echoed in her brain. She couldn’t wait. She couldn’t stop. She wanted him everywhere. Tongues, lips, mouth, fingers, but most of all she wanted him inside her. She ached with a deep throbbing desire that had to be quenched.
She managed to somehow separate her lips from his greedy ones that wanted to devour her.
“Jack,” she breathed out in a voice that was feather-thin. She was barely able to form words. Language seemed a monumental task, akin to climbing a mountain right now. Words were hazy, nebulous, but somehow she grabbed hold of the most important ones.
“I need you inside me. I can’t wait for anything else.”
“I can’t wait to give you a much better orgasm than the one you were going to give yourself,” he said, grabbing her hand, threading his fingers through hers and leading her around the bank of elevators and to the room. He slid the key into the slot and turned around, grabbing the waistband of her skirt, tugging her in close, and kissing her once more, as if he couldn’t stop. As if he simply had to touch her and taste her. First her jawline, then her lips, then deep into her mouth, kissing her passionately and with so much fire that she was certain she was going to set off smoke detectors any second.
But even if she did, she wouldn’t stop. Let them sound. Let them ring.
* * *
They didn’t even make it to the bed.
There was no point.
Beds were for the next time. For all-night sessions. For lovers that had been together before. For this? The first time called for the wall, because they couldn’t wait. He’d been hard since she sat down at the bar, that hot body taunting him in her sexy outfit that she didn’t even realize was sexy. Or hell, maybe she did.
As the door clanged shut, he backed her up against the wall, reached his hand behind her head, and unclipped her hair. Her soft brown hair spilled onto her shoulders and over his fingers.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her hair that smelled like jasmine. “Can I call you beautiful?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Then stand with your feet spread, beautiful, and rock your sweet little body into my mouth,” he told her, her eyes widening with both surprise and lust as he bent down, kneeling, and pushed up her skirt in seconds. “I have to taste you.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” she said, her lips curling up, and he liked that she was so quick to talk back. A naughty one. A woman unafraid to speak her mind. He reached for her panties—black lace—and brought them down to her knees, then leaned in. He was dying to run his tongue along that enticing seam of her pussy lips. Spread them open and let her wetness flood his mouth. But first he wanted to inhale her scent, so he ran his nose along her thighs, feeling her quiver against his cheek.
“You smell so fucking good,” he said roughly.
“Oh, God,” she panted. He looked up and watched her as her head fell back against the wall. He hadn’t even touched her yet, and she was already grasping for his hair, trying to draw him near. Heat tore through him at her reaction, and he buzzed his lips and nose closer to her delicious center, breathing in her sexiness, inhaling her arousal.
The scent of her desire shot through him like an earthquake rumbling across the land. He pressed one soft kiss against her swollen clit, and she gasped. “Please,” she cried out, her voice ragged as it turned from sexy banter to bare need.
“Oh, beautiful, you make me want to tease you,” he said, brushing his lips against her inner thighs, her wetness covering his stubbled jawline. Perfect. “You make me want to make you beg for it when you say that word.”
“Please don’t make me beg,” she said, gripping his hair.
“I won’t tonight, even though it drives me wild when you say please.”
“Touch me. Just touch me,” she said, panting now. The need from her was so intense it tore through him, lust spreading across every inch of his body.
But he couldn’t resist the game. “Tell me what you want,” he said, making it clear this was an order. “Say it. Tell me where you want my mouth right now.”
“Please, Jack. Lick me, eat me, taste me, fuck me with your tongue.”
He hissed out a breath. God, he loved that kind of mouth.
He licked her once, groaning from the intoxicating taste of her wet pussy. Flattening his tongue, he licked her again and she cried out. She let go of his hair, and brought her right hand to her chest. Touching herself, feeling her own breast. Fuck, that was hot.
“I need you to do something,” he told her, looking up at her.
“Yes?” she said, her eyes hazy.
“Give me all of your pussy. Don’t hold back.”
That was all she needed. One piece of instruction, and she took it quickly. She started rocking her hips into his face as he kissed her delicious wetness, narrowing in on her clit, sucking it in his mouth as she arched into him. He glanced up again; her lips were parted, her mouth open, her breathing turning into erratic pants, signaling her need. She was so damn sensuous. She was like sex on fire.
She ran her other hand through her hair, gripping it hard, and in that instant he could picture her as she masturbated, threading a hand through her hair or fondling a breast as she took herself there. There was something about a sexy woman who liked to play with herself that brought him to his knees. Maybe it was why he did what he did for a living, but to find a woman this gorgeous who was so clearly in touch with her own need to come made his blood turn hotter than hell.
“Oh God, please stop,” she called out.
He looked up at her, but didn’t cease the attention he lavished on her swollen clit. He lapped her up, flicking his tongue against her, causing her to buck against his mouth. The thought of being covered in her juices stiffened his cock even further, straining against his zipper.
“Stop, you have to stop, you have to stop,” she said, like a plea.
He relented, pulling back. “You okay?”
“Yes. I’m just going to come so soon, and I want to do it with you inside me.”
As much as he wanted to press his hands on the inside of her thighs, spread her wider and ignore her request, he was also a gentleman, and if the lady wanted something different far be it from him to deny her wishes.
He rose, starting to unzip his pants. “I’m only stopping because you asked. But since you denied me the pleasure of tasting you come, I want to warn you that I fully intend to tease the ever-loving fuck out of your pussy the next time I’m down there.”
His eyes were fixed on her, and he watched as she shivered, her shoulders shaking briefly as if his words had sent a wave of pleasure through her body. “I can live with that,” she said, and in seconds she was unknotting his tie and unbuttoning his shirt in a flurry. She pressed her hands against his chest, and he hissed in a breath at the feel of her touch on his bare skin for the first time.
The Seductive Nights Novellas Page 7