by Cari Quinn
The nerves that had followed him into the hotel dissolved.
There was no one else around.
Just them.
Finally.
Thirteen
She’d walked into the sun.
Lauren checked out the room, more than a little shocked this was her life. Anytime she would wake up, orgasmless and alone as she’d been before.
Except she kept blinking and blinking and the picture never changed.
Light bathed every corner of the suite, glinting off the gold around the ornate mirror and lamps. Even the heavy curtains were a gold brocade that made the place seem to sparkle.
Maybe that was just her.
“Come here.” West slid his hand under her hair and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her to him so fast she gasped. Not from fear. There were no nerves with this man. She didn’t understand why.
Just…greed. So much greed.
Her hands met his muscled chest, her fingers curling in at the first touch of his mouth. He was always so careful for their first kisses. So gentle as he parted her lips and requested entrance. Then that catch in his breath as he went deeper, pressing his fingers into the back of her neck so he could tilt her and take.
They wouldn’t be stopping this time.
She drew back and tugged off her top, tossing it on a nearby chair. His eyes unfocused and it made it so much easier to reach back to undo the clasp of her bra, to let the straps fall down her arms so that she was exposed. The lacy cotton dropped to her feet and the reverence on his face made her knees wobble.
“So lovely.”
Even that word choice made her weak. He’d get dirtier and rougher as they went, and she loved that too. Craved every experience. But the appreciation in his voice, in his expression went miles to bolstering her confidence.
She wasn’t afraid, but she could be shy. Not today. Her first time wouldn’t hold a single regret.
She undid the button and zipper on her pants and pushed them down, pausing to kick off the sneakers he’d bought her. She left on the rainbow socks though. “Toes get cold,” she explained before she shoved her pants and cotton panties off the rest of the way.
He slid his hands in his back pockets and smiled down at her socks, lifting his gaze up her body so slowly and leaving heat in his wake. She squirmed under his careful perusal between her legs, staring so thoroughly that she swore he’d know the placement of every freckle and mole.
“Turn around,” he said huskily.
She picked up the rest of her clothes and tossed them on the chair with her shirt, pivoting the way he’d asked. That same give in his breathing had her trembling as she reached up to lift and shake out her hair. Not a sexy dance, not anything creative or seductive. Just letting him look his fill.
The same as she would do very soon.
He stepped forward and gripped her hips in his big hands, rocking into her while he nuzzled her shoulder. On down her arm, lifting it and ducking underneath so he could take her breast in his mouth. Hungrily. Her nipples were already so tight from the room’s air conditioning and pure adrenaline, and the flick of his tongue over her made her grip his hair in shaking fingers. She pulled out strands from his loose bun, leaving them to fall into his face, but his gaze remained on hers, the intensity so high that she couldn’t break their stare.
God, his eyes. As green as the grass outside, as tumultuous as the waves lapping against the shore under the bridge. So much passion there. As much as was contained in his talented hands every time he sat behind a piano.
Or moved in front of her to kneel at her feet, picking up her leg to anchor it on the carved chest at the foot of the massive bed. He cupped her mound, groaning at the wetness she knew had to be coating his hand. Looking down at him, she went for broke and palmed her breasts, bolstered by his racking breath. She plucked her nipples, biting her lip to stop the sounds so close to the surface. They were in a proper hotel. She couldn’t go around screaming in the middle of a weekday afternoon—
“Oh, yes, you can,” he said in his gravelly voice, as if he’d heard her every thought. Perhaps she’d given them voice. “You’re going to share everything with me.” He kissed the inside of her splayed thigh, easing down to bite the flesh she forever rued. Not here. Not with him. “Every sound, every taste, every drop.”
He peeled apart her drenched lower lips, pressing two fingers inside her with a swiftness that made her clutch her breasts. Still watching her, he lapped at her stiff clit with just the tip of his tongue, directing the pressure exactly where she needed it as his fingers pumped. In and out, over and over.
She threw back her head and shut her eyes against the streaming brightness. Even in the dark behind her eyelids, everything was too bright. She squeezed her breasts, harder than she had before, and he groaned and redoubled his efforts. It wasn’t two fingers inside her now but three. Opening her up, stretching her for his cock. They moved in and out of her noisily, her wetness making the gesture so dirty. So erotic.
Widening her stance, she let go one of her breasts to palm the back of his head, pulling him in deeper. Unashamed to show him exactly what she needed. Gratified beyond belief at his low moan over her flesh as she rose up on her toes.
He swapped his fingers for his tongue, sliding it into her so silkily that she couldn’t hold back. Her belly fisted, the pressure building just before it exploded. She cried out and dragged him up by his hair, falling to her knees in front of him and covering his wet mouth with her own. Desperately, she kissed him as her orgasm ebbed, the taste of herself on his tongue causing the pulsations to go on and on.
Or it was his talented fingers slipping between her damp thighs again to stroke her sensitive clit. “Come again,” he said between kisses as he rubbed her, and she couldn’t have denied him a single thing.
Especially not this.
She broke free to suck in air while she ground herself shamelessly into his hand. She was so many years behind. So much for her to catch up on. So many orgasms she’d missed.
He was determined to help her make up for lost time.
His thumb parted her and she arched, opening up for him as he nudged it inside. The ridge of calluses on his skin stroked her just right and she gripped his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life while her body spun out for him. All over again.
The aftershocks hadn’t even ended before she reached for the hem of his thermal, inching it up to see his happy trail of fine blond and darker brown hair. Rather than yanking his shirt all the way off, she let it slide back down and toyed with his waistband. With so many treats to choose from, she had trouble deciding what to go for first—except when it came to his cock.
That always won.
She opened the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper so she could caress his hot, hard length, tucked against his belly. He hissed at the swipe of her thumb over the head, collecting all the pre-cum she was eager to taste.
When she would’ve gone down on all fours and sucked him off right there on the floor, he grasped her elbows and pulled her up. “Bed,” he gritted out and she had to admit that was a very good plan.
She yanked back the sheets on the huge King and climbed up, situating herself against the pillows so she was in prime position for his striptease. He didn’t move for a moment, his gaze roaming her body, and she reached down to cup her breasts again to hopefully give him some inspiration.
“Your turn to get undressed,” she breathed, hoping she sounded seductive.
He rubbed his wrist against his mouth as he stalked closer to the bed. He kicked off his boots, then fisted his hands at his sides. “Jesus, Lo. Your tits are so fucking beautiful. I love when you touch them. Touch your pussy for me. Please.”
Her shock at his naughty words soon disappeared in a rush of warmth. She still wasn’t used to hearing them, but God, she loved the way he sounded when he was turned on. Pushed past his civility to the honesty beneath.
Biting her lip, she slid one hand down over her stomach
to the apex of her thighs. She could do this. For him, she’d summon her courage. It wasn’t much different than cupping her breasts.
Even if it felt that way.
She slid her fingers over the curls that he didn’t seem to mind and lower to toy with her swollen folds. She was so wet that dragging her fingers down her slit left them glistening. On the return pass, she couldn’t stop a shudder. Her clit was so sensitive that even a breeze would’ve made her quake. But instead of drawing her hand back, she followed the cues of his intent expression and slipped her finger lower, delving inside. All the way in so that she had to lift her hips for better access. He grunted and locked his hands behind his neck, tipping his head back long enough that she could openly check out his erection.
All systems go. She might’ve felt a little awkward doing this, but he was loving it. And that was all the encouragement she needed.
She pushed in a second finger and spread her legs farther apart for him. Wanting him to see everything. Rocking her hips, she let her lashes lower as she imagined him on his knees before her again, all that soft blond hair caught up in the messy man-bun that she insisted on wrecking with her greedy hands.
His grip on her ankle had her eyes flashing open. “Make yourself come again,” he murmured, staring fixedly between her legs. “I want you soft and wet for me.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded and fought to keep her legs apart. She would deliver this for him. He’d opened himself up for her earlier—albeit in a much different way—so she could do this.
She could do it.
She scissored her fingers inside herself, chasing the pleasure already lazily spinning in her belly. It was so much harder when she had to get herself off. She’d never been able to in the past. But now she had his tricks, the little ways to hook her fingers and change the angle so she reached that magical spot that swelled under her touch deep inside. Biting her lip, she circled her hips, letting out a gasp at the wetness coating her strokes.
The sounds her body was making were nearly obscene. And he was riveted, his grip on her ankle one more chain in her arousal.
She would come for him. Even if he wasn’t touching her, this was his as much as it was for her.
Stretching her thumb up to stroke her clit, she tried to mimic his earlier touches. Alternating the rhythm with her thrusts inside. Getting so close. The web of arousal tightening, tightening. Her natural instinct was to drop her hand away at the first spasms, to back off on the intensity. Then his hand was there, holding her wrist steady as he watched her fuck herself.
“That’s it, just like that,” he whispered, and she cried out at the unrelenting clenching in her core.
Just his low, dirty voice could make her come. That was all it took.
He crawled on the bed, making room for himself between her legs. Her inner thighs burned a little from his stubble and the scrape of his jeans against her flesh re-ignited the fire now at a low burn. Almost casually, her thumb worked her clit. He dropped his gaze between their bodies, his kiss-swollen lips parting on an exhale as he watched her play with herself so close to his cock. His grip on her wrist increased. A shift of her hips and the tip of his thumb skimmed her mound.
It was unspeakably sexy. So naughty she couldn’t believe this was her, living this dream.
She never wanted it to end.
On a low curse, he yanked her hand away and brought it to his mouth, sucking her release from her fingers so loudly that she would’ve flushed if she had any modesty left. Not now. Not while she was on her back in bright sunshine, revealing everything to him.
Giving him it all.
He held her wrist with one hand and jerked down his unzipped jeans and his boxers with the other. His rigid cock sprung free, and he wrapped her wet fingers around his much darker skin, urging her on with a soft plea that cut her to the quick.
“Please, baby. Touch me like you touched yourself.” He gritted his teeth as she sat up to comply. “I get so fucking jealous when your hands aren’t on me.”
Though she knew full well he wasn’t making sense right now, she couldn’t stop from whimpering at his words. “I want to touch you. Always.”
The instant the last word left her, she glanced up at him. But his eyes were closed, his head thrown back. She jerked him harder, using both hands in her own version of pulling on a rope, working on him with as much pressure as she could summon. It had to hurt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He reached up to fist his own hair as a fine mist of pre-cum sprayed her breasts. The drops slipped down her taut nipples, making her squeeze her legs together around his.
“Enough,” he ground out, but she didn’t stop. She lifted one breast to skim her wet nipple along his shaft and he made a guttural sound that rippled along her spine. “Inside you. I gotta come inside you.”
Instead of ceasing her actions, she met his gaze. “Take off your shirt.”
His cock jerked in her hand. She licked her lips, hoping for more little drops to hit her skin.
She wanted him to come on her. Just as she’d seen in all those clips. It had always seemed so dirty.
So hot.
“Fuck. I love when you’re bossy.” He reached behind his head and hauled off his thermal, tossing it behind him without looking to see where it landed.
She leaned forward to lick his chest, relishing his groan as if it was oxygen. Her teeth scraped the flat disk of his nipple and his dick leaped in her grip. She let it go long enough to lick her hand and wrap it around him again, stroking up and down hard and fast while she pressed kisses to his chest. Wet, loud ones that left little suction marks behind.
“If you take your shirt off at the show,” she whispered, darting a glance at him, “they’ll all know you’re mine.”
She didn’t know where the possessiveness came from. He wasn’t hers. She wasn’t deluding herself. Not that much anyway. But right now? He sure as hell felt that way.
Eyes glowing fierce green, he pushed her to the bed and moved over her, caging her in with his heavy, hard body. The damp tip of his cock left a trail over her belly and she shuddered.
Looming over her, his body so big and strong, he bent to suck on her collarbone. “Mine,” he rasped, and she knew he was marking her in the same childish way she’d branded him.
Joy soared through her chest. Needing to be as close to him as possible, she reached up and cupped his head. All that soft hair sifted through her fingers as she loosened the band around his bun and tugged it free. Without thinking, she rolled the band on her wrist, closing her eyes at the feel of his silky hair tumbling against her flesh.
He lifted his head and kissed her, his mouth commanding hers. No gentleness now. All need.
“You got me too worked up,” he said against her lips. He almost sounded mad.
“Sorry?”
His chuckle made her grin until he sat back to tug off his jeans and boxers the rest of the way. He tugged his wallet out of his back pocket before he dumped his clothes on the floor. The movement made her really look at his cock, stiff and curved away from his body.
Holy crap, he was huge. And she was not. At least she didn’t feel that way inside.
“Oh. Right.” She bit her lip. “That’s supposed to go…”
“Oh yeah, it’s going to go. Right here.” He brushed his knuckles over her slit and she whimpered, still so sensitive she wasn’t sure she could take any more stimulation. “I’ll go slow,” he added. “So slow, baby. Slow and deep.”
That low, hypnotic voice could’ve convinced her to dance naked on the Golden Gate bridge. As it was, she spread her legs for him and lifted her arms above her head, pressing her fingertips against the headboard.
His groan had her arching. If she’d had words left, she would’ve begged. Instead she pleaded with her body. With her tight nipples and the wet cleft between her thighs and her arms stretched above her head.
Every part of her waiting—and wanting—him.
He opened his wallet and tugged out a foil packet. She was
pretty sure she saw another tucked inside, which made her involuntarily bounce against the bed. Jiggling everything and making his jaw clench.
“Christ, you’re so goddamn sexy. So innocent yet so dirty underneath.” He bent to suck on her nipples, one after the other. “My dirty girl.”
If she could be his, there was a good chance she’d try to be anything he asked. Except she didn’t have to. She’d been her this whole way through and he seemed to enjoy her just as she was. Clumsy and sometimes inappropriate and clueless about all the things the seductive women he met every day knew as instinctively as breathing.
Yet he was with her.
Her.
She watched him rip the packet and roll on the condom with starved eyes. She couldn’t see enough. He pinched the tip and she wanted to ask why, hungered for every bit of carnal knowledge her could give her. Then he ranged his long, hot body over hers, fitting his latex-covered dick between her legs, and she moaned.
“Wish it was just your skin,” she mumbled before she realized what she was saying.
“Me too.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath coming hard and fast against her cheek. “So much. If you get on the pill…” He trailed off, and she swallowed hard.
Maybe he wanted her to stay for more than a few days.
Maybe he just wanted more, the same way she did.
Or maybe he was horny and wanted to come inside a bare pussy like any guy with a hard-on.
“Eyes on me,” he murmured as she closed them. The intimacy was too much.
What she craved was even worse.
But she opened them because she’d promised herself no regrets. And if she didn’t get to see every nuance of his expression as he sank inside her this first time, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
Dipping his forehead to hers again, that fierce green so close, he shifted and brushed his cock against her. Readying her with slow, drugging strokes over her clit. Soon she was moving with him, her body somehow just knowing what to do. He gripped her legs and hoisted them up around his hips, hovering his lips over hers as he pressed inward, just one shallow thrust.