by Vonnie Davis
The elevator dinged to a stop. A woman asked what floor, remarking they couldn’t have sex in an elevator. He stopped devouring her lips and barked over his shoulder, “Seventeen, dammit!” Then he bit her earlobe. “I’m going to tear this thong off your ass and take you hard. If you don’t want it, you’d better damn well tell me now before I carry you to my room.” His rapid breathing rasped in her ear, almost as irregular as hers.
Did she want this? Casual sex had never been her thing, but then neither was paying a lot of money for a scanty dress and, as Webb had called them, fuck-me stilettoes.
His hand slid farther under her and a long finger swept along her crack until it reached her clit. He shifted so his lips were against her ear again. “You’re wet for me, sweetheart. What’s it gonna be?”
“Ah…” She blinked a couple times, trying to form a coherent thought with which to respond.
“Oh say yes, young lady. You only live once.” The elderly woman patted Gracie’s bare leg, the contact bringing her back to reality. Oh, sweet Jesus. She’d been all over a guy she didn’t even really know, in front of these people. She must have lost her ever-loving mind. Grabbing the hem of her skirt, she began sliding off Webb.
He pulled her back against his groin, stopping her descent. “Stay. I don’t give a damn what other people think.” How had he sensed her discomfort? “What will it be? Dinner with my management or room service?”
She studied his face. “Won’t you get in trouble if you don’t show?”
“I’m not worried about them. You’re the only one I care about right now.”
His reply couldn’t have been more perfect. “Then room service sounds great.” She bit his earlobe and he growled deep in his chest.
When the elevator stopped, he glanced at the number displayed next to the door. “Our floor.”
Harold patted Webb’s shoulder. “Give it to her good, son.”
With both hands cupped under her ass and her legs still wrapped around his waist, he marched down the hotel corridor. Gracie peeked over his shoulder and grinned at the four remaining passengers smiling and clapping. She should be embarrassed. Any other time she would be, but today, right at this moment, she wanted this man like she wanted a national title for her team. If she could write about this insane blind desire and the unrelenting need pulsing in her clit so the reader got half as aroused as she was, Raven Sylk would have a best seller.
CHAPTER SIX
With every step Webb gained toward his room, Gracie’s damp mound bumped against his hard-on. Her firm ass cheeks fit nicely in his palms. Later, after he’d had her once or twice, he’d place her on all fours, tilt that sweet ass in the air, clamp onto it and pound until his eyes rolled back into his head. He had a full night of sex planned. The single condom he had tucked in his wallet would never be enough.
He hadn’t counted on this fierce attraction, this intense need.
Yet, with each snide remark she uttered, her full red lips had both pissed him off and turned him on. Every time he looked at her mouth, he imagined it wrapped around his cock. Christ, even the thought of that visual hardened him further, to the point of pain.
As soon as his lips fused with hers, only one refrain stormed through his brain—take her, take her, take her. Hell, he was a grown man, not some randy teenager. Where was his freaking self-control? Right, Thunder’s management had told him he had none. And, fuck ‘em all, right now he didn’t care what they thought.
At the moment, his raging cock was issuing a command that he wasn’t going to deny. If he was supposed to go a month without a woman, he needed a sex-filled night to prepare him for that long stint of celibacy. And she was just the one to provide that. Sweet Lord, she was sex, spirit and sass.
And he wanted her.
When the door to her room opened earlier, she’d taken his breath away. Hell, he’d damn near come in his boxers. He had to keep grumbling and growling just to keep from taking her in the entry of room 2219 or on the way to the elevator.
He set her feet on the corridor’s carpet and reached in his jacket pocket for the room key. His left hand remained at her waist to keep her from scurrying off. Her one stilettoed-foot rocked side to side, showcasing her nervousness. Normally, her emotions animated thosebrown eyes. Right now, she looked everywhere but at him.
“Gracie?” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Gracie?” He peered into her eyes.
Her worried gaze finally locked on his.
“What’s wrong? Scared?”
Her chin hiked in defiance and he wanted to kiss her for the show of bravery.
“Are you wondering if what we felt in the elevator was a fluke? That maybe if I kissed you again, it wouldn’t have the same effect?”
“I don’t know you,” she whispered. “Not…not really. I’ve never had sex with a man the same day I met him.”
A rush of unexpected pleasure surged through his gut, a feeling next to protectiveness. Her words softened his heart. Not his cock though. It was still hung up on having her luscious lips sliding up and down its engorged length.
He cupped her face with his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t be afraid of me, baby. I won’t hurt you. I won’t be gentle, ʼcause hell, I’m not a gentle man, but I won’t force you to do anything. I’ll just try my damndest to make you feel things no other man has.” He’d never spoken truer words, and that knowledge shook him to his soul. Why the powerful pull to possess? Because he was a Dom? Or was it more? Hell, he’d just met her. This was purely sex.
Her fingers fidgeted against his shirt. He wrapped his hands around hers to hold them still, positioning them over her head against the wall. “Kiss me again.” He shifted toward her, his hard-on rubbing her mound. On a groan, he covered her lips with his, tasted her essence, and tumbled into passion.
She eased back a fraction and sighed his name against his lips. Something primal charged free and reared like a stallion. He fisted a hand in her raven hair and plundered. Gracie trembled in his arms and he reveled in her response.
“This is your last chance to walk away, sweetheart. Once I insert this key card and turn the handle, I’m carrying you inside and taking off every stitch you’ve got on. Decide now, one way or the other.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and closed her eyes as if deciding the fate of the world. “Open the door.” Her voice was so low, he might not have heard her if he hadn’t been kissing his way up her velvety neck.
“Say it again. I dare you.”
Fire snapped in her eyes. Obviously she didn’t like being dared. “Open the damn door. Make love to me.”
He scooped her into his arms and carried her into his room, kicking the door shut behind them. “You’re mine for the night and I plan on fucking you until you forget every man you’ve ever been with. First, give me another kiss.” He inclined his head and nibbled on her lips as the heat of desire swirled in his balls.
He set her down and backed her against the wall. Her lips were swollen, eyes hazed with need. The soft spot at the base of her neck beckoned and he leaned in to answer its siren call. She gasped when he bit her, causing him to chuckle, his hands firmly spanning her waist.
“Before this night is over, I plan on kissing, licking, and biting every inch of your soft, sweet-smelling skin.”
“Go for it, big guy.” She snuggled closer and that errant skinny sparkly strap slipped off her shoulder again. Damn thing was an annoyance. He ripped it from the dress, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room.
“Hey, I just bought this!”
“I’ll buy you another.” He tore off the other strap just because it was touching a part of her skin that he wasn’t. His fingers curled into the top of her dress, and he yanked it down. All the air whooshed out of his lungs. “Holy fuck!” She wore no bra and had full, firm breasts with nipples like pencil erasers. “Jesus,” he breathed.
Gracie blushed and reached to cover them with her hands.
He grabbed her wrists. �
��Don’t hide from me. There’ll be nothing between us tonight.”
Leaning her back over his arm, her breasts projected upward. Sweet Lord, what a sight.
His fingertips trailed up her midriff toward the tempting peaks, and her skin quivered under his touch. When he swirled his tongue around her aureole, she whimpered. Although he never once touched her nipple, it peaked, as if begging for his mouth.
“Please.”
“Please, what?” His finger rubbed circles around the aureole. “You’re a big girl. Tell me what you want.”
She shook her head.
He pulled back and glared into her passion-filled eyes. “If a man can voice what he wants, so can a woman. Tell me what you want, Gracie, so I can take care of you.”
“Suck me, dammit.” Her hand cupped the back of his head and drew him to her breast.
He chuckled. “All you had to do was ask.” He latched onto her nipple, drew it into his mouth, and sucked. She writhed in his arms and he held her tighter. If he didn’t soon get inside this woman’s wet heat, he’d lose his mind. He moved to the other breast and sucked it until his cock grew even harder. The damn thing was going to bear the imprint of his zipper’s teeth for years.
He straightened. His index fingers and thumbs tweaked her hardened buds, still damp from his mouth. Just to please himself, he coiled his fingers around her wrists and placed her hands over her head. “Don’t you dare move or I’ll paddle that fine ass of yours.” He stared into her eyes. “Do you understand?” He used his Dom voice.
She nodded.
“Stay.” He strode to the desk and dialed room service. “This is Webb Mohanty in room seventeen-oh-eight. Send up a bottle of champagne on ice, strawberries, a can of whipped cream and a box of condoms as soon as humanly possible. Oh, and tell the person bringing it to knock and leave the cart in the hallway. I’ll get it myself.” He shucked his jacket and hung it across the back of the chair. He kept his gaze on Gracie, and she trembled.
She was every man’s wet dream. Raven hair tousled, lips swollen, and a body made for sex. She was naked except for the tiny patch of red lace covering her mound and those sexy-as-hell heels. Her foot started twisting back and forth again. He was getting to her. Good. She’d damn well gotten to him, had crawled under his skin like a tic, creating an itch he didn’t know if a couple good fucks could ever erase.
Their eyes locked and the tension built between them. He sat on the foot of the bed and tugged off his boots, staring at her the entire time. After sliding off his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his pants.
Removing the cell from his pants pocket, he turned it off, and placed it on the desk. No one would interrupt them tonight. Tomorrow he’d plead a pulled muscle from tackling the purse snatcher. He’d beg for a massage, whatever it took to cover for tonight. Because no one was taking him away from this raven-haired woman.
He padded to her, his feet whispering against the carpet.
She shivered when he slowly eased his fingertip from her navel to her chin. “You’ve been a good girl, obeying my command not to move.” He rested one forearm over her head and skimmed his other hand over her breasts and down her flat abdomen. “You’re beautiful. Exquisite.”
“I thought you said my breasts were too big.” She tossed her long hair back in defiance.
“I’m a man. I say dumbass stuff sometimes.” He rubbed his open palm over a hardened nipple. “There’s not a thing wrong with you, except you’re wearing too much clothing.” He closed his fingers around the lace of her thong and tore it from her. “Beautiful,” he breathed as he pressed a kiss to her navel. His fingers delved into the wet curls at her mound. “If you were mine, this would be bare.”
“If you were mine, your balls would be hairless, too.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “One good Brazilian wax deserves another, wouldn’t you say?”
He tugged on her short hairs. “I’d say you’re too sassy.” His thumbs separated the folds to her pretty pink pussy and he leaned in to taste, sweeping his tongue over her clit.
She jerked. “Dear God!”
His thoughts exactly. He ran his tongue first on one side and then on the other of her clit. She pushed her sex into his face and he slapped his hands to her ass cheeks to hold her there. Then like a dying man savoring his last meal, he ate her. Her muscles tensed. He gently bit her clit before soothing it with his tongue. A wail from deep inside her surfaced, a sweet sound to his ears. He’d always been a lover who enjoyed wringing every shudder and climax from his partner.
He slid a finger into her wet channel and eased it in and out.
“Oh, sweet Lord.”
“I’m going to give you a climax right here against the wall. Then I’m carrying you to the bed where I plan on getting your attention.” He slipped two fingers in her and brushed his thumb over her swollen clit.
“You…you’ve got my attention now.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe. But there’s nothing like tying a woman’s hands to the headboard and delving balls deep into her hot sweetness.”
“You…you’re tying me up?” Her sexy alto voice hit a high octave.
“Fucking A.” He kept his fingers and thumbs moving, watching the emotions play out on her pretty face. When the muscles of her abdomen and thighs started quivering, he felt for her G-spot.
“Webb!” She shuddered her release, and he leaned in to taste her climax. Her liquids were as sweet as nectar from the gods. Her knees buckled, and he stood to catch her, carrying her to the bed.
God, was there anything prettier than a woman flush from an intense climax? Her full breasts trembled with every breath she sucked in. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her pale skin.
Someone knocked on the door. “Room service.”
“Give yourself a twenty percent tip and leave it.” He couldn’t bear to take his eyes off Gracie. His fingertips trailed down her cheek and neck.
“Sir, you’ll have to sign.”
Dammit.
“Coming.” Or I will as soon as I get rid of your ass. He unlocked the door and snatched the pad from the waiter’s hand. He glanced at the cart, made sure the box of condoms was there and scrawled his signature on the bottom line. “Thanks. I’ll see to the cart.” The man nodded, turned, and barreled off. Webb pushed the cart into the room.
Gracie had crawled under the covers, the sheet tucked under her chin. Had she thought he’d let some other man in here to feast his eyes on her lush body? She was for his delight only—at least for tonight, anyway. Something about that thought didn’t sit well. He was a football player in Florida and she was a basketball coach from Idaho. Soon they’d both return to their own lives, but tonight…tonight she was all his. And damn the next man who ever touched her, for the bastard would have to outdo all the things he planned on doing to her in the next several hours. Try as she might, she’d never forget what happened between them.
He tore the foil off the bottle of champagne. “Need a drink, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” She sat and the sheet pooled into her lap. He fought to keep his tongue in his mouth. “I still have my shoes on.”
“Leave them.” He untwisted the wire around the cork.
“But you called them ‘fuck-me stilettoes.’”
“Yup. And you’re going to fuck me while wearing them.” He popped the cork and froth coursed over the top into the flute he held.
“You’re a bossy man.”
He grinned and she smiled in return. “That I am, gorgeous. It’s called Dominant.” He handed her a glass and tipped his filled glass toward hers. “A toast. To all the memories we’ll make tonight.”
She clinked her glass against his and then took a sip. He leaned over her and swiped his tongue over the drop of champagne lingering on her bottom lip.
“This is the first I’ve ever had champagne with no clothes on.” Her gaze dropped for a few seconds before rising to lock on his. “My first orgasm standing up against a wall. My first time wearing heels to bed.” She
took another sip and tilted her head as if thinking. “My first football player.”
He’d set his flute on the nightstand and reached for his belt. “I damn well better be your last football player, too.” Christ, what made him say that? He had to get his shit together. She was just for tonight.
She watched him undress as if she couldn’t get enough of looking at him. A heady experience for any man, and he was determined to enjoy every part of her reaction. When he tugged down his black boxers, his cock springing free, her brown eyes widened. Her hand reached out to touch his mushroom head and a spot of pre-cum leaked out. Her pink tongue swirled over it and then granted him his fantasy. She wrapped her red luscious lips around his shaft. Holy fuck.
He’d worry later about how she learned this skill so well. For now, he stiffened his knees against the edge of the bed and enjoyed every lick and pump her head made over his cock. To his disappointment, she stopped and took a large sip of champagne. Her mouth captured his cock again and, holy fuck, she hadn’t swallowed the cold bubbly.
The contrast of her warm lips and cold champagne fizzing against his sensitive, engorged skin nearly blew the top off his scalp. He fisted his hands in her hair, inhaled through his nose and gritted his teeth. At this moment, he’d have granted her anything. His balls tightened and tingles prickled his spine.
“Stop. I want to be inside you when I come.” He pushed her away and sat on the bed next to her.
“Webb? What’s that scar on your back?” Fingertips swept over a round indent caused by a bullet.
“An injury from a mission. It’s all healed. Not worth talking about.” He gave her a quick kiss. Then he reached for his tie. “I won’t make this tight on your wrists. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you and I won’t.” Once he had her wrists tied together, he secured it to the headboard. He ran his hands down both her arms. “You okay? Not too tight?”
“I’m okay. I’ve never had a man tie me up before.” Her gaze flicked to the room service cart. “What’s the whipped cream for?”