by Calista Fox
“Where’s your claim ticket?” His voice was gruff with the need clawing at him, shredding him from the inside out.
With her free hand, she retrieved the slip of paper from her purse and gave it to him. He collected her coat and helped her into the full-length garment. He tipped the check girl and then guided Scarlet out of the club. They walked the alley in silence and rounded the corner of the building. Took only a few steps before they reached the car waiting for him, provided by the Crestmont.
The driver was on the ball, catching sight of Michael in the rearview mirror and jumping out of the vehicle to open the back door just as Michael and his date reached it.
Scarlet eased onto the leather seat and Michael slipped in beside her.
He couldn’t quite decipher what the hell had come over him—from the moment he’d met her. It wasn’t in his nature to take a woman back to his hotel room. If he had an itch that needed to be scratched, he’d go to her place. Keep things casual, allow for a convenient, no muss–no fuss exit when they’d both had their fill.
But he wasn’t looking for a fast fuck and quick escape this time. Otherwise, he would have used his dick instead of his fingers when he’d had the sexy investigator pinned to the wall.
Unfortunately, it was damn near impossible to keep his hands off her. As the car left the curb, his palm slid over her bare thigh, his fingers grazing the inner portion.
The side of his hand glided along her folds through her panties. She coiled her arm with his, her breasts pressing to his biceps. She wriggled on the seat next to him. Her breathing turned thin and raspy. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, but he heard her murmur, “I need to come again.”
“Soon.”
“Now.”
His cock still throbbed in wild beats. His balls pulled tight. It’d behoove him to adjust himself, but he didn’t move. Scarlet was tangled up in him and used her hand on top of his to force him to rub her clit with more pressure as she apparently tried to keep her writhing inconspicuous. But they were riding in a fully loaded extended town car with a privacy window, so Michael didn’t worry too much about discretion.
He told her, “I want you naked, beneath me.”
She moaned. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me, but it feels damn good. All of it.”
“I’m just getting started. Wait until my head is between your legs.”
Her eyes lids drifted shut. “Oh, God.”
He bit back a triumphant grin. Said, “I’m dying to eat your pussy. Taste you on my tongue. Make you beg for more.”
“Michael,” she said on a velvety breath. “I’m going to—”
“It makes you hot, doesn’t it? Knowing what I want to do to you? Knowing what I’m going to do to you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you ready for that?”
Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him, a bit dazedly. “Yes.”
“Are you on the pill?”
She nodded.
“And—”
“I haven’t been with anyone in over two years.”
His jaw clenched. That was a damn shame considering how passionate she was. Conversely … It was advantageous for Michael.
“I’ve been tested. And Scarlet”—his breath rustled strands of her auburn hair as he told her, “I want to come inside you.”
Then he kissed her. Fiercely. Felt the shiver run through her.
He stroked that swollen pearl between her legs a bit more forcefully.
Her inner thighs squeezed their clasped hands.
She jerked her mouth away and buried her face against his neck again.
“Oh, God,” she squeaked out, obviously trying to quiet herself. “Michael. Oh, Christ.”
Her teeth sank into his skin, stifling her cry as she came. Her body vibrated against his, her panties even wetter than before. Making him insanely hard.
All he had to do was palm his cock through his jeans and he knew he’d explode.
It was damn tempting. Because she had him clinging to the ledge, dangling by his fingertips.
His head fell back against the top of the seat and he stared up at the ceiling of the car, fighting for just enough composure to keep it together a few minutes more, hating that they weren’t in his hotel suite already. He swallowed down a lump of desire and willed some control when all he really wanted to do was haul her into his lap so that she straddled him and let her ride his dick until they both let go and gave in to the free fall of a powerful release.
He still had one hand wedged between her thighs and he raked the other through his hair. Wished his heart weren’t slamming against his ribs.
Her lips smoothed over the spot on his throat where she’d bitten him. She hadn’t drawn blood, but he was damn certain there were teeth indentations in his flesh. He didn’t care about that. What mattered was that he could make her come so hard she nearly took a chunk out of him. And he hadn’t even gotten serious yet.
The car reached the hotel and a valet opened the door. Michael stepped out, uncomfortable as hell and tugging Scarlet along with him. She kept herself glued to him, a little unstable on her four-inch boot heels. He knew it wasn’t from the martini. And gloated inwardly over how he’d completely unraveled her.
Though he couldn’t be too cocky. She was doing the same to him.
They walked through the lobby, mostly empty this time of night. Entering an elevator, Michael inserted his electronic key into the slot above the panel of buttons and hit PH for the penthouse.
They traveled in silence up to the top floor, but the air between them, surrounding them, was sexually charged, crackling with anticipation. It felt like an eternity before the elevator came to a halt. He grabbed his card key and headed for the double doors of his room, Scarlet keeping pace with his brisk stride.
Once inside the penthouse, he tossed the key on the table in the center of the foyer and pulled her farther into the suite, primarily cast in shadows, aside from the dim glow of strategically placed security lights and the wall of windows with the drapes swept away to reveal the San Francisco skyline, featuring the landmark Transamerica Pyramid.
He shrugged out of his leather jacket and left it on a sofa. Then he hastily untied the sash at her waist and divested her of her coat. His fingers curled around the material of her skirt, just below her hips, and he yanked the dress up and over her head, adding it to the mounting pile of clothing.
His jaw worked rigorously as he took in the sight of her in a red satin and black lace bra, matching panties, and the sexy as sin thigh-high boots.
There wasn’t a woman on the catwalk back at the club who could hold a candle to her. Scarlet Drake was perfection in his eyes.
Michael would have taken a moment to thank his lucky stars that this gorgeous creature was single and standing in the middle of his living room, but he couldn’t keep his hands off her that long.
As his mouth crashed over hers, his arm slipped around her and he unfastened her bra with the pinching of his finger and thumb. Still kissing her, he whisked the lingerie away and then cupped her breasts, every one of his nerve endings igniting as he caressed the full, firm mounds and brushed the pads of his thumbs over her puckered nipples.
She gripped his biceps and held on as he backed her up against the oversized desk. His hands left her breasts and he grabbed her about the waist to hoist her up so she sat on the mahogany surface.
He caught the sides of her skimpy thong in the crook of his index fingers and stripped the material away as she lifted slightly to facilitate the undressing. He left her boots on.
His forearms hooked the backs of her knees and he spread her legs wide, with both heels planted on the desk. She flattened her palms against the surface at her hips. Licked her lips and gave him a provocative look.
“You know I want you,” she said. Stirring his emotions as much as she ratcheted his lust.
Michael’s fingertips glided along her p
ussy lips. “You know what I want first.”
He sank to his knees and blew a breath over her glistening flesh.
She let out a small cry.
He held her thighs open as his tongue slowly, lightly, caressed her tight, highly tempting pink parts. Sampling her. Teasing her.
She threaded her fingers through his hair again. “This is about to get out of control, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Though he was fairly certain it already had. He’d purposely evaded her for months. Then he’d taken one look at her and he’d had to have her.
At the moment, however, he was solely dedicated to pleasuring her with his mouth.
He spread her folds with his thumbs and his tongue fluttered over her clit. Her hips jerked as she gasped.
“Michael,” she said on a sharp moan. “It’s been forever since anyone’s done this to me.”
“You taste so damn good,” he muttered. Then continued flickering his tongue against the little pearl.
Her inner thighs quivered. Her breathy pants of air filled the otherwise quiet room.
Michael alternated his technique from the flitting to a long lapping motion to the flitting. He could feel the ribbons of excitement race through her, sensed her restlessness as she clutched thick locks of his hair.
He tugged on her folds with his lips, making her whimper.
“That feels incredible,” she told him. “Everything you do feels so incredible.”
“Wait’ll I fuck you.” He toyed with her further by circling her opening with the tip of his tongue before penetrating the narrow canal.
“Michael!” Her hips rose off the desk. “Oh, God. You’re going to make me come again.”
That was certainly the plan. He went back to licking the swollen knot of nerves as he eased one finger inside her. She pressed herself more firmly to his mouth, her pelvis undulating with his rhythm. He worked in a second finger and pumped vigorously. She was dripping wet, her cream coating his tongue and his fingers.
He was rock-hard and wasn’t quite sure how he was going to survive a few more minutes of not being buried in her warm, slick depths. But he was still a man on a mission.
His mouth left her pussy and trailed upward, over her belly to her breasts as he stood. His tongue curled around a beaded center. He continued massaging her inner walls with a steady, purposeful pace, the pad of his thumb rubbing her clit at the same time.
He drew her nipple into his mouth, his teeth gently scraping.
“Yes,” she said. “I love that. Suck my nipples.”
He paid the other one the same attention.
“Oh, yes. Oh, God, yes.”
Michael was caught between the torment of being so damn close to exploding and the erotic pleasure of pushing her higher. Enjoying her body. Thriving on the way she responded to him, the trembling that besieged her and the scarcity of her breath.
She’d come even harder this time. He’d make sure of it.
He kissed her passionately. Stroked faster. Then broke the kiss and returned to her nipple with a stronger suctioning.
“Michael!” she called out. Her inner muscles clenched at his fingers as she climaxed. Clenching so damn tight, making him crazed because he wanted it to be his cock her pussy contracted around.
He didn’t withdraw from her as her hips continued to roll and she stole the last vestiges of orgasm.
Michael left feathery kisses along the tops of her breasts, across her collarbone, up her neck.
“Think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she whispered.
“Not yet. I’m not done with you.”
“There won’t be anything left of me when you are.”
He kissed her, then said, “I think you can handle it.”
“Then don’t hold back.”
His gaze locked with hers. “I don’t intend to.”
FOUR
Scarlet’s insides blazed brighter. She was already incinerating from the hotter than hell man staring so deeply into her eyes and the sensational orgasms he’d given her. Michael’s hunky body between her legs made every inch of her sizzle even more.
She released the strands of his hair that she’d probably yanked on too firmly when she’d come, but he didn’t seem to mind. She fisted the material at his nape and pulled, dragging his shirt over his head, breaking their eye contact for only a brief second. Tossing aside the garment, she ran both hands along his sinewy forearms and up to his bulging biceps. He was magnificently built, all sculpted muscles and smooth, tanned skin.
Her hands continued to roam, up to his broad shoulders, then down the front of him. He had a solid, well-defined pectoral ledge that her fingers grazed, her nails gently rasping his small, pebbled nipples.
His teeth ground. She was testing his restraint. She could see it in his smoldering gaze. Could feel it in the intensity that radiated from him.
She kept up her exploration, loving the way his body tensed as her fingertips skimmed his cut abs, heading south. When she reached the buckle on his belt, he let out a harsh grunt that was additional confirmation she was pushing him right to the edge.
Exhilaration trilled down her spine. Her pussy ached in anticipation of being filled and stretched by him. She felt the moisture ooze from her opening along her cleft. No one had ever made her so wet.
She deftly unfastened him and shoved his briefs and jeans over his hips. She tore her gaze from Michael’s and it landed on his cock. Thick and wide and mouthwatering.
The sudden desire to suck him to completion gripped her. She wanted his shaft against her tongue, his tip stroking the back of her throat before he lost it and came in her mouth.
But the desperate need to have him deep inside her overrode the fantasy. Her fingers encircled his base and she pumped slowly. Hunger flashed in his smoky eyes.
She told him, “Photos in the Wall Street Journal don’t capture your animal magnetism. That can only fully be experienced in person.”
His lips brushed over hers and he murmured, “Then let me give you the full, in-person experience.”
Her stomach flipped. “Thank you for not making me beg.”
He pried her fingers from his dick. “You almost have me begging.”
Michael’s blatant, engaging look sent liquid fire through her. He pressed her legs wider apart with his palms on her inner thighs and his thick shaft glided along her folds, back and forth. Taunting her. He eased slightly back and his tip rubbed against her clit. He leaned into her and his cock slid along her slick flesh, his balls grazing her cleft and anus.
The man was a master at building the sexual tension and intensifying the dark cravings he’d sparked from the onset.
“Okay, now I’m begging,” she said in a strained tone. “You want to be inside me, don’t you?”
“Ah, fuck, yes.”
He curved his arm under one of her bent legs and lifted it off the desk, slinging her boot-clad calf over his shoulder as he leaned close to her again and his cockhead penetrated her, sending high-voltage bolts through her body.
“Oh, God!” Her head flew back on her shoulders.
“Don’t squeeze,” Michael hissed out. “I already know how tight you are. And I’m two seconds away from ending this party if you’re any tighter.”
She tried to relax her inner muscles. But they involuntarily sought something that had been elusive for so very, very long. Too damn long.
As much as she wanted to plead with Michael to stop playing and get down to business, she could see he was hanging on by a thin thread. She’d gotten him all worked up at the club, had felt his erection the entire time. So she had no doubt the scorching sensations were about to burst wide open for him as much as for her.
Scarlet laid back against the desk, sprawling across it. Raising her arms over her head, she clasped the far edge.
“Now that’s a hell of a sight,” he said. And thrust into her, pushing all the air from her lungs on a wild scream.
He didn’t give her even a moment to assimilate to his girt
h, stretching her taut. His hips bucked and he fucked her assertively. Exactly what she wanted. But good Lord … He was huge inside her and plunging deep, fast. Jarring her body, making her grip the ledge more firmly.
He slid his free arm under her at her lower back and her spine bowed so that her head and shoulders were the only part of her touching the glass top as her ass lifted off the surface and her other leg wrapped around his waist.
“Yes,” she sobbed. “Oh, God, yes. Michael!” He pounded into her and it was everything she needed. Everything she’d longed for as her best friends were hooking up with amazingly satisfying men and all Scarlet had was her work.
She’d ached for this sort of fulfillment—the dirtier the better at this point, because her hormones were raging. More than ever since she’d met Michael.
He seemed to innately know how to please her, how to rock her to the core of her being.
The way he angled her hips into his thrusts allowed him to push farther into her. So incredibly deep. His pelvis both ground and pumped, so he was stimulating every bit of her pussy, inside and out. His heat surrounded her. His muscles brushed against her flushed skin, keeping her fully connected to him. Scarlet was about to crash head-on into another earth-shattering orgasm.
“Christ, you’re exciting to watch as I fuck you,” he told her.
She might be sore for a week, but it’d be that kind of sinfully delicious soreness that reminded her she’d had a fantastically built man between her thighs who’d made her burn from head to toe and inspired the naughtiest words to tumble from her slightly parted lips.
She really did beg for it. For more.
He incited primal reactions and carnal demands. As sensational as it felt to have him take her with such abandon, she needed to come again. It was too fiery, too intense, to hold on to.
“Fuck me,” she insisted. “Harder. Oh, God, Michael. Fuck my pussy. Make me come.”
Her fingers uncoiled from the ledge. One of her palms flattened on the desk at her hip. The other gripped his forearm as it was locked around her leg that was draped over his shoulder. She used the leverage to pull him closer to her, rolled her hips with his enticing erratic movements, and felt all the insanity and electricity arcing between them and humming through her coalesce and erupt.