by Tiffani Lynn
I nod. He calls the bartender over and tells him to put the drinks on his room. Then pulls me by the hand back to the front desk. “She’ll be staying in room 823 with me. Can you have her bags sent up?”
The desk clerk blushes and replies, “Yes, sir.”
He propels me toward the elevator and once we’re inside presses the eight button. On the second floor, more people get on the elevator so he tugs me back against his incredibly firm body and wraps an arm around my waist, securing my position. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to settle my nerves. I’ve never done anything remotely like this. We exit and walk to his room with his hand on the small of my back. The contact sends chills down my spine.
Not the luxury suite I vacated earlier, but his room is adequate, although it only has a king-size bed, not two queens like I expected. His balcony does have a beach view though. A knock on the door signals the arrival of my suitcase. He takes my bag from the bellhop and tips him.
“I’ll leave you to get ready. Is an hour sufficient?”
“Um… I probably only need a half hour to be honest. I showered before I went downstairs earlier.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes. Do you have any preferences for dinner?”
“No, I eat anything.”
“See you soon.” He grins as he closes the door, and I stand staring at his retreating back, wondering what in the hell I’m doing. My mother will have a heart attack if she finds out about this arrangement.
****
Thirty minutes later, I’m standing in a little black dress and black strappy heels, inspecting myself in the mirror, when the door opens and he appears. “Hey, I need to change. Give me five minutes.” He collects something from the closet and a few things from his suitcase and disappears into the bathroom as I apply my lipstick.
He strolls out of the bathroom in charcoal tailored slacks with a black button down shirt. He’s ridiculously hot, and I feel the strip of lace between my legs dampen in response.
“You look amazing,” he compliments me.
“Thank you. You do, too.”
At dinner, conversation is easier than it’s ever been with a man for me. I don’t know if he senses my awkwardness and tailors the conversation, or if it’s the amount of alcohol in my system.
After dinner, he laces his fingers in mine. An intimate gesture that startles me. “Let’s take a walk. The weather is beautiful here, a novelty this time of year for us Midwesterners.”
“That sounds nice.”
We walk for 15 minutes, not saying much, just holding hands, when he asks, “Do you feel better about sleeping in my room?”
“I think so. This all seems weird to me. Like the part of a movie where the woman says yes when she clearly should’ve said no, and later regrets it as she’s locked in a small cage wearing a dog collar while a freak wielding a whip yells at her.”
His laugh is hearty as he squeezes my hand. “The desk clerk knows you’re staying with me. If you turn up missing, she’ll be the first one to point the finger in my direction.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about her.” My body settles in an instant and a grin appears on my face. “In that case, yes, much better.” He chuckles and shakes his head.
We come to the end of the sidewalk. “Want to walk on the beach or go back to the room?”
The wind tussles his midnight colored hair, giving him a boyish appearance, and I melt a little more. Now that I feel safer, my mind begins to loosen up and let some more interesting things in. My gaze shifts to his lush lips and suddenly I’m unable to look at anything else. The night air is charged with an electricity I can’t explain. One I’ve never felt before. He closes the gap between us and his warm breath travels across my lips. “Room or Beach?” he questions again, his tone quiet.
So out of character for me but unable to help myself, I press my lips against his, noting his are the softest lips that have ever touched mine. His hands grasp my cheeks, holding me in place while he tilts his head, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. The kiss is all consuming and the hottest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Our tongues tangle and stroke against the other, and I have an insane urge to hike my leg up on his hip and grind against him. Instead, I pull away, panting. “Room. Take me to the room, please.”
His smile this time is different than previous ones. It’s spectacular and slightly predatory. My nipples peak and poke through the fabric of my bra and I wonder if you can tell by looking at my dress. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the curb. Stepping out into the street he hails a taxi to whisk us back to the hotel.
The cab ride is used as a teaser of things to come as his fingers stroke the inside of my thigh and he whispers naughty things in my ear. In the elevator, he pulls me against him, my back to his front, his erection pressed into my back and the heat of his breath against my ear as he bends to lick it covertly. My knees shake with pent up desire. By the time we reach the room, I’m a hot puddle of goo.
When the door to the room closes, he spins me and slams me against the wall as his mouth crashes down on mine in a punishing kiss. I lift my leg over his hip like I wanted to earlier and rotate against him. The pressure is so good a deep groan escapes my lips. He reaches under my other leg and hikes it up so that both are up. I wrap them around his waist and kiss him harder. He spins again and stalks to the bed, depositing me in the middle. As he unbuttons his shirt the muscled planes of his chest are exposed drawing a sigh from my parted lips. He kneels between my open thighs and murmurs against my most sensitive skin, “My raven-haired temptress, so fucking sexy.”
Beckett
As I glance up at her from between her perfect thighs, I notice her eyes are clouded with lust, her silky hair fans out around her head and shoulders. Tiny black lace panties peek out at me from under the hem of her dress, which is still hiked up high around her hips from my attack a second before. Her lips are swollen from the kisses we’ve shared, and she’s panting in anticipation.
So damn hot.
As I kneel in front of her and push the dress higher, I search her eyes to confirm consent. She nods her head, and I shuffle the little, black panties down her shapely legs and toss them to the floor.
I run my hands up the inside of her thighs and push them open all the way. Her pussy is bare and glistening with the evidence of her arousal. My cock pushes painfully against my pants. I reach down to unbutton and unzip my slacks, hoping to give my cock some relief. Dipping my face down against her sex, I inhale the sweet scent of her. Because I’m unable to help myself, I swipe my tongue on her smooth lips and then reach up to part them. Peeling the folds back, I examine the swollen tissue before I lick in soft strokes. She whimpers as her hips lift, almost as if she’s moving to place me right where she wants me, so I pin her to the mattress. “I need to taste all of you, be patient. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
The sexiest little mewl comes out of her mouth and her muscles relax. I smile against her sex, while I continue to work her. She’s so responsive to my touch, to my tongue, to my words.
When I realize she can’t take any more, I suck her clit between my teeth and flick the nub with my tongue. She raises off the mattress and bucks wildly as she comes, screaming my name.
“Beckett, Beckett, Beckett!”
It echoes off the walls and my chest swells with satisfaction. I release her and wait while she catches her breath. She’s the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen. Her body, now completely relaxed, melts against the bed as I crawl over her hooking her knees with my forearms as I go, spreading her wider, leaving her more vulnerable.
My rock hard cock bobs between us, smacking against her skin as I move into position. I lower my hips into the cradle of her pussy adding pressure to the sensitive tissue. She cries out at the contact as her eyes roll back into her head. Her body shudders uncontrollably again. She has the sexiest expression on her face as I watch her body break apart and rebuild for me.
“Beckett,” she whispers as she f
inds herself again, the one word from her lips is enough to ignite an inferno within me.
I sit back on my heels and reach for my pants, ready to be buried deep, pulling a foil packet out of my slacks. I tear it between my teeth and roll it down my length. She’s now up on her elbows, watching the process with hooded eyes.
I readjust her legs to rest on my shoulders and lower myself until we’re skin to skin, the head of my cock rests at her entrance. I roll my hips so slowly I ache with need, entering her an inch at a time. Once I bottom out, I realize I’ve never been wrapped in a pussy this perfect or this hot. I run baseball stats through my head in an attempt to settle my balls, which have pulled up tight, ready to blow with the slightest movement. By the time I’m through with the ’69 Mets roster, I’m settled as she squirms under me, ready for more.
I lower my head and tug the top of her dress down with my teeth and whisper, “Let me see them.” She complies, peeling the dress down and lifting her full, round breasts from the cups of her bra. Her dusky nipples pebble in the cool air of the room. I swipe one with my tongue, swirling before I grip lightly with my teeth. She whimpers and I repeat the process on the other breast, rocking into her through it all.
She lifts up, capturing my mouth with hers in a kiss meant to entice and consume all at once. I look down between us to where our bodies meet and watch my cock disappear into her glistening sex. “So fucking sexy,” I growl as I pump into her harder, faster, her tits bouncing with the movement. Her body arches up and I nip at her nipple, harder this time, working to get a reaction from her.
Lowering my head into the space between her shoulder and her ear, I groan, “Your pussy is so fucking tight. So good. Grip me harder.” She squeezes her walls around me. My groan is louder than before. I slam into her over and over until my back arches with my head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, hips thrust forward and explode inside her. She screams my name again, and I slip her legs down to rest on the mattress, collapsing against her.
After several minutes, I peel myself away from her and dump the condom in the trash can. When I return to the bed, I remove her dress and bra and toss them to the floor with my clothes. I roll, pulling her on top of me as my body recovers, wondering why a woman like her is alone on vacation, especially the week of Valentine’s Day.
****
We’ve spent the last 48 hours having sex in every position possible. Now that she’s leaving to catch her return flight home, my head is a damn mess. Since the demise of my marriage three years ago, I haven’t found anyone worth getting involved with, but there’s something about the polished, conservative beauty that has me snared. As I suspected when I first laid eyes on her, she’s the kind of woman who keeps everything locked away, her emotions, her expressions, and her sexuality. But I found out over the last two days that I have the keys to unlock and release everything she’s hiding. Unleased, she’s the sexiest, most uninhibited woman I’ve ever been with. In addition, discovering her beautiful mind as we talked about the world in general in between our sexcapades was a gift in and of itself.
Escorting her to the airport shuttle idling outside the lobby feels like the green mile preceding the executioner. I want her to stay for my remaining couple of days. I’m not ready to let her go, but I understand she has to go back to work. My friends are probably pissed because they haven’t seen me since I found her at the bar that night, but I could care less. I wouldn’t trade the last couple of days for anything.
Lizzie plasters a fake smile on her face and accepts my tender kiss before climbing into the vehicle. Why does it feel like I just let the woman of my dreams walk out of my life without a fight?