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Nothing but the air and sexual tension filling it.
He cages me against the wall of the pristine, elegant elevator, then reaches over and presses the button for the twentieth floor. Only he doesn't stop there, just slowly trails his fingers down to light up every single floor between the lobby and where our room waits for us.
“What are you doing?”
A slow, devious grin spreads across the lips I’ve been fantasizing about having on me since the moment I saw him at the bar. It spells nothing but danger. “I want more time with you in here.”
Oh, sweet mother of God. I'm in trouble.
He brushes his lips lightly over mine. Barely a whisper. Barely a touch. Barely even there. But it lights a fire in my core that has me gripping the lapels of his suit coat to keep my knees from buckling.
I suck in a shaky breath. “We could have gotten to the room faster if you hadn't done that.”
He chuckles against my lips. “What fun would that be?”
His right hand slips between my thighs and up under my dress.
I tighten my grip on him. “Nolan”—I glance up at the camera in the elevator's corner—“someone will see us.”
The doors slide closed, and the car begins to move up, his hand mimicking the motion.
“That's the entire point, Jack.”
His lips crash to mine, robbing me of my ability to respond with anything coherent. He devours me with a feral hunger that matches my own, the sweet taste of the bourbon he was drinking hitting my tongue.
Strong, determined fingers find the thin strip of material covering my pussy, and he groans into my mouth. “Christ, Jack, you're already soaking wet.”
I pant against his lips, tugging on his jacket. “What did you expect? After that little performance in the car back there and then at the bar.”
The elevator jerks to a stop, and the doors open. I nervously turn my head to check the hallway outside on the second floor, but thankfully, no one’s waiting.
Gripping my chin with his free hand, Nolan turns my face back to him and kisses me deeply again, probing his tongue along mine, his fingers slipping aside my thong and plunging into me.
“You liked that, though, didn't you?” The doors to the elevator close. “Just like you like this.” He probes deeper inside me, and the car moves up again. “The fact that someone's watching us.”
I don't want to admit he’s right, but my body clenches around his fingers in response. His chest rumbles in satisfaction as he pumps inside me, his thumb finally finding my throbbing clit.
The elevator stops again, the doors opening ominously. If we get caught, we’ll get kicked out before we ever get to the room.
And that would be a real fucking tragedy.
Our exposure doesn’t stop Nolan, though; he continues kissing me while languidly stroking my pussy.
This isn’t a race.
Long, drawn-out strokes inside me.
Slow, deliberately gentle, almost glancing swipes over my clit.
As floor after floor passes, the doors opening and closing again, he only winds me up tighter. My arousal coats the inside of my thighs, slick against his hand.
If this is what he can do with that, I can’t even imagine what he can do with his mouth and other assets. That silver tongue coils and strokes mine the higher we climb, mimicking what his expert fingers are doing.
But every time I start to get that little buzz coursing through my veins, that heat spreading across my skin, every time I get even remotely close to coming, he pulls mee back again, dangling my orgasm just out of reach, relentless in both his drive and his restraint.
The elevator halts at the next floor—at this point, I’ve completely lost track of where we are—and the doors open, but neither of us has bothered to check for anyone the last few times.
“Oh, whoops…”
