by Mia Knight
“How drunk are you?” he growled.
“Why don’t you find out,” she whispered and kissed him. She swept her tongue into his mouth and dug her nails into his back as the dark taste of him combined with a hint of lime hit her starved senses. She moaned into his mouth and drank deep—classy sin. She didn’t care about the crowd. All she cared about was making Marcus feel a modicum of the desperation that consumed her. She wanted him as he’d been the other night—stripped of all civilization and unwilling to take no for an answer.
He pulled back. “Carmen.”
She kissed his cheek. “You woke me up, Marcus, and now I need. How much do you want me?”
When she tried to kiss him again, he tried to avoid her mouth as his eyes moved around the room. She surveyed her prim businessman with giddy anticipation. Marcus liked control. That much was obvious. His image was very important to him, which made him the perfect challenge. Like any man, she didn’t care for anything that came easy. She liked the chase, and she respected a man who didn’t bend easily to her will. The other night, she got a taste of what lay beneath his smooth professionalism, and she wanted more. She wanted to bait the beast he kept under such rigid control. This was the perfect setting for her seduction.
She kissed the curve of his jaw as she loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt so she could reach his neck.
“Carmen, let’s get out of here. I have a suite ...” He trailed off as she sucked on his pulse. “Carmen.”
“Watch the stripper, Marcus,” she breathed against his pulse.
“You should give her lessons. She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
She smiled and nipped his neck. He jumped and gripped her hip.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
She leaned back to survey her hickey. “I’m having fun.”
“We can have fun elsewhere.”
She leaned against him to keep him in place and slipped her hand into his jacket. He opened his mouth but stiffened when she rubbed her hand over his nipple. She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Let me, Marcus.” The muscle in his jaw flexed, and she laved it with her tongue.
“Let you what?” he growled.
“Let me pay you back for the other night.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Her hand moved from his chest, down his rock-hard abs, and past his belt to his dick. He tensed, but he didn’t push her away. She traced his length and watched his face and enjoyed the shudder he tried to suppress. She leaned into him while she teased him through the material. She was pleased to see that he was now one hundred percent focused on what she was doing to him.
“I’ve always had a thing for a man who knows how to dress,” she said as her hand left his dick and traveled along his zipper. Her fingers trailed up and down, up and down. A muscle twitched near his eye. “I like the way you dress, the way you smell, the way you taste …”
When she leaned toward him, he turned his head, but she went for his neck and her hickey. She would make it big as fuck. He’d be wearing her mark for a couple of days. He shifted, rubbing his erection against her. She obliged and sent her hand back to his junk and gripped harder this time. He dropped his face into her hair and let out a heartfelt groan.
She moved from his neck to his ear and nipped. “How’d you know doggy’s my favorite position?” She cupped his face and brushed teasing kisses over his smooth skin. “Can you give me what I need?”
He pierced her with lusty green eyes. “What do you want, Carmen?”
She leaned close, so their lips brushed as she said, “I want you mindless.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Why?”
“I want the real you.”
“This is the real me?”
“There’s more.” She was sure of it, and the best way to uncover who he really was by calling out his inner caveman. “How much do you want me?”
His lips firmed, and he didn’t answer. She was ready for him, but he still had a modicum of control. It was time to break him. She placed her hands on his chest and ran them slowly down his body as she dropped to her knees. His eyes bulged. He glanced at those around them, but when she ran her hands along the inside of his thighs, his eyes came back to her.
Carmen kept eye contact as she nuzzled his erection through his slacks. She traced his cock with her tongue, leaving a damp trail in her wake. She found the head of his cock and kept eye contact as she gripped it between her lips, which was quite a feat since his slacks were stretched to the breaking point. His eyes went blind with need, and she knew she had him.
Even as he reached for her, she was already rising. He opened his mouth, and she slipped her pointer and middle finger into his mouth. He grabbed her wrist to hold her hand still as he sucked on her finger, tongue swirling between both digits. Her body felt as if it was going up in flames.
Marcus pulled her hand from his mouth and clasped it in his before he pulled her through the crowd. He charged down a hallway and tried both master suites, which were occupied. The bathroom had a line, and she was beginning to feel feverish. She needed him now. Marcus seemed to be feeling the same because he opened a random door and they were greeted with the sight of an unused laundry room complete with a marble island to fold clothes and two sets of stainless steel washers and dryers.
“There’s no lock on the door,” Marcus snapped.
“Who cares?” She grabbed handfuls of his jacket. “Fuck me.”
He glared at her. Desire warred with reason.
She cupped his face. “Marcus.” Her voice was harsh with need.
He picked her up and placed her on the marble table. The icy surface under her ass made her hiss in surprise. He tossed the middle panel of her dress to one side and paused to look at the damp lace between her thighs.
“You’re a dangerous woman,” he said as he slipped two fingers past her underwear. She braced her hands on the table and tossed her head back as his fingers stretched her and then curled. “You’re soaked.”
“I told you,” she panted, “I need you.”
Marcus withdrew his fingers and dropped. His head went between her legs, and she spread wide. She moaned when she felt the first swipe of his tongue. She was too hungry and needy to play coy. She mashed his face against her pussy and rocked her hips against his mouth. When his tongue slipped inside her, she dropped her head back as pleasure wiped her mind clean.
Someone in the hallway cheered. Marcus didn’t pause. He was too far gone, and so was she. There was only a door between their hookup and one hundred guests, and she didn’t fucking care. All that mattered was that he kept doing that with his tongue. She shuddered and grabbed a handful of his hair as ecstasy nipped at her.
Marcus raised his head, and she screamed, “No!”
“I’m not going to last,” he bit out as he undid his buckle and slacks. He pulled his cock out of his boxers and yanked her to the edge of the table. He pressed the head of his cock to her entrance, and she held her breath. She wasn’t prepared when he grabbed her by the throat and yanked her forward so they were nose to nose. His face was drawn with lust, and his hot breath fanned her face. She went for his mouth, but he held her in place.
“Have you been with anyone since me?” he growled.
She couldn’t think past the lust. “What?”
His hand flexed on her throat while the other slid his dick up and down her slit. She moaned and tried to take him, but his grip on her throat kept her at his mercy.
“Have you fucked anyone since me?” he said against her mouth.
“No. Now fuck me!”
His hand disappeared from her throat, and then he was sinking into her, stretching her deliciously. She grasped handfuls of his shirt as he pressed his forehead against hers and panted as he sheathed himself to the hilt. They stared at one another in the dim light as the party carried on mere feet away.
“Would you have given me a blowjob in front of everyone?”
“Yo
u’ll never know, will you,” she whispered.
“You make me crazy,” he said as he dropped his head onto her shoulder.
“That’s how I want you.”
“How do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered in her ear.
“Surprise me.”
He raised his head. She had a split second to see his grin before he shoved her on her back on the table. Before she knew what was happening, he climbed on with her. He knelt, spread her legs, and dragged her ass along his hard thighs until he slid inside her. His hands spanned her waist and controlled her involuntary jerk as he impaled her. She couldn’t hold back a loud groan as the position caused him to rub against her G-spot. She tried to grab onto something, but nothing but the cold marble was beneath her hands.
“Holy shit. Marcus, I—”
He gripped her hips and began to move her on him. Hard, grinding thrusts that made her kick and jerk. She was flat on her back with her legs splayed wide on either side of him. The contrast of cold marble beneath her bare back, the soft material of his slacks under her ass, and the heel of his hand which landed on top of her pussy and began to apply pressure made her crazy. She tried to lever her ass up so she could hit the right spot and bring it home, but he wasn’t allowing it. He was toying with her, controlling her.
“Marcus, I swear I’m going to—” she began hoarsely, but a hard thrust made her clamp her mouth shut.
He hit that spot again, and she screamed. The door opened, and she closed her eyes against the flood of bright light.
“Holy fuck!”
Marcus hauled her up to straddle his lap. “Get the fuck out and close the door.”
Carmen was too far gone to care about their audience. She wrapped her arms around him and kept riding him, so lost in her high that nothing would stop her.
“I’ll pay to watch,” the voice tried to bargain.
“Get out.”
“Fuck,” the man grumbled before the door closed, and they were once again locked in semi-darkness.
“I’m going to bring it home,” she said and launched herself at him so he tipped backward. She didn’t pause to savor the sight of Marcus Fletcher splayed out beneath her, hair a mess, clothes in disarray. She was too hungry. She braced her hands on his chest and began to move. She tipped her head back as she rode him, seeking her pleasure.
He yanked her down so her hands were braced on either side of his head. He latched onto her breast through the thin material and bit. She cupped the back of his head, holding him to her as she fucked him. He bucked beneath her, going deeper than she believed possible. She swiveled her hips and had the pleasure of watching his eyes roll and then flutter shut.
“I-I can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.
He didn’t have to because she was already there. She pumped her hips, impaling herself on him and moaned as she fell headlong into one of the most intense orgasms she ever experienced. His groan echoed in the small space. He gripped her ass and rocked her on him, and she hissed through her teeth.
“You’re going to kill me,” he puffed.
She laughed weakly as she slumped on top of him. “You’re a wonderful man, Marcus Fletcher.”
Her body was one throbbing mess, but she didn’t care. If anyone walked in, they’d have no doubt what they’d been doing, but they were both fully clothed, which made the whole encounter that much more titillating.
All worries faded into the ether. Those dark emotions clawing at her throat, threatening to drag her under, were banished for the moment. She basked in the glow. Her body ached from the pounding she took, but it was worth it.
Someone hit the door, making them both jolt, but the door didn’t open. Raucous, drunken laughter slipped through the door as the assholes continued down the hallway.
“We better get out of here,” Marcus said.
She rolled off him. He slipped off the table and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. He made an attempt to look presentable and turned to her.
“All right?” he asked.
Carmen gave him a lazy smile. “Fabulous.”
He grinned as he dragged her across the table and made her stand. He straightened her clothes.
“How did you end up at this party?” he asked.
“Cormac got me in.”
“Cormac?”
“Cormac Hart.”
Marcus’s brows rose. “The UFC Lightweight Champion?”
“Of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed and cupped her chin. “You good?”
“Now I am.”
He fingered her hair. “I like the red. It suits you.”
The door opened, and a man with a woman under each arm entered. He scanned them while the women giggled uncontrollably.
“Dude,” he drawled and bobbed his brows.
Marcus grasped her hand and tugged her out of the room. She leaned into him as he navigated through the mayhem. It wasn’t until she saw the familiar double doors guarded by security that she realized he intended to leave.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You’re done for the night.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.” When she tried to dig in her heels, he wrapped an arm around her waist and propelled her past the security guards. “What have you had to drink?”
“Champagne … and a shot of Patrón, but I have a high alcohol tolerance,” she said with a shrug and added, “And I sweat out most of it when I dance.”
“Of course, you’re drunk on champagne.”
“Who said I’m drunk?”
“I do,” he said and pulled her into the elevator.
Her head was pleasantly fuzzy, so she leaned into him. He pulled her under his arm and kissed her temple.
“You smell amazing,” he said.
“So do you.” She yawned and nuzzled his neck. “Like classy sin.”
“Classy sin,” he repeated and shook his head. “Whatever you say, babe. I’m glad I didn’t find you wrapped around some loser this time.”
The champagne prompted her to admit, “I was going to bang someone, but he ruined the moment with a lame pickup line.”
“How bad was it?”
“He asked if I worked at Subway because I gave him a footlong.”
Marcus grinned. “Accurate, but poorly put, hmm?”
He led her through the casino. A man screaming his head off roused her from her walking slumber. At first, she thought the man was in a fight but then realized he hit the jackpot. She craned her neck to get a look at his machine, but Marcus directed her in another direction.
“Hey!”
“Tonight’s not a good night,” he said and shrugged back his sleeve to look at his watch. “I’m late, and I have to change.”
“Don’t let me hold you up,” she said and tried to get away, but Marcus didn’t release her.
“You’re going home where I don’t have to worry about you.” He marched her outside and towed her toward a waiting taxi.
“I brought my car. I’m not drunk, Marcus!”
“You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I’m tired.”
He settled her in the back of the taxi. When she tried to go out the other end, he stopped her with a grip on her thigh and cupped her cheek.
“I don’t have time tonight. I’m late for my meeting.”
He kissed her, and she forgot to struggle. Her hand fisted in his shirt. He pulled back, searched her face, and then kissed her twice more.
“You know where to find me,” he said and slammed the door in her dazed face.
He gave her address to the cabbie and strode back into the casino. Carmen slumped against the seat and closed her eyes as exhaustion pulled her under. Her demons were quiet for the moment. She wasn’t sure what to think of Marcus’s highhandedness, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be truly angry. He sated her inner demon. He would be dynamite if she ever got him in bed.
She must have fallen asleep because the cabbie
had to yell to wake her up. He told her Marcus slipped him money. When did that happen? She stumbled to the house and realized she was blitzed because she couldn’t walk a straight line. She knocked on the door for Mom to open, but the house remained dark and silent. Odd. She unearthed the key from a flowerpot. It took every ounce of concentration she possessed to unlock the door. She could feel herself losing her battle with consciousness as she trudged upstairs. She fell face first into bed and moaned. She was drifting off to sleep when it occurred to her that Marcus shouldn’t know her home address.
9
A ringing phone interrupted her dreamless slumber. She groaned and covered her head with a pillow to block out the noise. The phone quieted, and she relaxed. She pulled the blankets snugly around her and popped one eye open when the phone began to blare again. She bared her teeth and peered over the side of the bed at her clutch. Maybe there was a crisis … She tilted her top half out of bed, fished the phone out of her clutch, and peered at the unfamiliar number.
“If this is a telemarketer, I’m going to find you and kill you,” she growled.
There was a pause and then a delighted, feminine laugh. “I fucking love you, girl!”
Something was familiar about that voice, but it was too fucking early to figure it out. She heaved herself back into bed and closed her eyes, so the room would stop pitching.
“Who is this?”
“Luciana Roman. I asked Angel for your number, and he wasn’t happy, but I told him it’s an emergency.”
She tensed. “Emergency?”
“Girl, your picture’s all over the internet!”
Her eyes flew open. “What?”
“You’re dating Cormac Hart and didn’t tell me? Oh, my God, he’s so fucking hot. I want to trace his abs with my tongue and suck on his nipples … but I won’t because you’re dating him! Oh, my God. Does he like to go down on you? Please tell me he does. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. In the picture, he’s all dripping sweat. I’m staring at this picture of you guys, and you look amazing together! Your eyes are closed, and his arms are wrapped around you from behind. So romantic. Whose party is this? It looks wild! Did you fuck at the party?”