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F I F T Y S I X
- Quinn -
I followed Maddy up the stairs to the second floor, clenching my jaw as I studied the way her light purple dress shifted over her curves. When she started down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder at me, and I felt like I’d been sucker punched.
She was so beautiful. Between the flirtatious glint in her eyes to the way her braided updo had come loose, allowing soft wisps of brown hair to frame her face, I couldn't imagine wanting anyone more than I wanted her.
I watched her retrieve her keycard and lick her lips as she pushed our door open, and as soon as we were inside, I grabbed her and pulled her to me. Her small clutch dropped to the floor with a thud, but I barely heard it over my hammering heart.
"Quinn," she breathed against my lips. "Slow down."
My hands roved her body, gathering the fabric of her dress at hip level so I could pull her against me while my tongue played with hers. She tasted of white wine and raspberries, and I couldn't get enough.
"Don't rip my dress," she said, her hips writhing against me as she wove her fingers through my hair and tugged hard enough to make my scalp tingle. Still, my blood rushed in the opposite direction, anticipating the pleasure that was to come.
"It's too long," I said, pressing her back against the wall. "I'd like it shorter."
She kicked her heels off without taking her lips from mine and lifted one leg, wrapping it around me tightly, her hungry hips rocking in a way that made my lower body ache. I worked myself against her, the two of us dry humping up against the wall until my need for her grew too urgent, my craving like a beast fighting its chains.
I slid my hands under her ass to lift her up, marched her over to the bed, and tossed her in the middle of it so her dress spread across the white comforter. She propped up on her elbows, her chest rising and falling with her breath, her eyes wild.
"Hike up your dress," I said, loosening my tie.
She swallowed.
I slid the silk fabric from behind my collar and tossed it aside before doing the same with my jacket. It landed on the desk chair, and I heard it slide to the floor as I started on the buttons of my shirt, my eyes on hers.
Soft light from the street faded through the sheer curtains, bathing her in a glow that made her look like a fallen angel. The thought that I was the man who’d tripped her up filled me with a sense of duty stronger than any I'd ever felt. Not just to love and protect her, but to make her come so hard she'd have to hold onto her halo for dear life.
"More," I said, pulling the bottom of my shirt from my pants and starting on my belt.
She chewed her bottom lip.
"Higher."
The back of her dress was still spread beneath her, but she lifted the fabric on top as I’d asked, bunching it in her hands until her sexy slip of a thong came into view. "I could just take the whole dress off."
"No," I growled. "I don't want any distractions." I shoved my pants down with my boxers, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me when I saw her eyes pop wide.
"I feel so overdressed now."
I laughed and set a knee on the bed, squeezing my dick in my hand to relieve some of the ache. When I saw that she was transfixed, I stroked myself once and then again, pressing my thumb hard along the throbbing vein that rose to meet it. "Let's see if I can make you feel something else." I gripped the inside of her knees and slid my hands up her inner thighs.
A breathy exhale escaped her throat, but she didn't lie back. Instead, she watched as I pressed the back of my fingers against the outside of her panties, my mouth watering when I felt her heat. I stole a glance at her pained expression. "You want to practice saying no to me?"
"No," she breathed. "Keep going."
My smile tugged to one side, and I pressed two fingertips to where her shrouded bud was throbbing and teased her until she soaked through her panties.
"Still feeling overdressed," she joked between shallow breaths.
I took the hint but fought the urge to tear through the delicate lace. Instead, I slid her panties down her thighs and used them to stroke myself again, hardening at the way the soft lace felt against my solid length.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Marking you with my scent," I said, watching her as I eased my pain.
"More like torturing me."
