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His voice flamed her need and sent it roaring like a bold wildfire that refused to be contained.
“I want to add to my list,” she murmured. “Number five—find a man and help him experience his wildest fantasies, the things he dreams about when he touches himself, eyes closed in the shower—”
“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”
She rubbed her thighs together as wet, reckless desire raced through her. “Yes. I would.”
“You’d like to watch me wrap my hand around my cock and listen as I describe all of the things I’m thinking about doing to you since I first saw you admiring your paintings. You want to know what makes me hard for you.” He rocked his hips into her backside, allowing her to feel every inch of him.
“Yes.” She was close to begging now. “I want to work my way through your fantasies, too. Starting with your number four.”
“Lucia, you found your man.”
Chapter Five
Lucia slipped the hotel key card out of her clutch, but before she swiped the card, she allowed herself this final chance to ask: Are you really ready for this? Because once they went inside, there would be no turning back.
If she sent Cade back to his room, regret would find her as soon as the door closed, and it would follow her home. Instead of memories, what ifs would become her constant companions.
He would go if she insisted. As aggressively as he’d pursued her, he’d also respected her consent at every turn. Even about the mask. He hadn’t said a word of protest about leaving it on after she’d spelled out her rules back at the club. Instinct told her to trust him, at least with her body.
And tonight, wasn’t that all the trust she needed?
She swiped the card and turned the handle, and he followed her into the suite.
Beyond the mirrored closets in the foyer, the space opened up. A king-size bed stood on the left. A few steps farther was a sitting area with an L-shaped sofa and a desk facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered a bird’s-eye view of the Strip.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked as she led the way to the sitting area. “I could order a bottle of champagne. Or something to eat?”
“No.” He caught her hand and pulled her close. His lips brushed hers. “I have everything I want right here.”
She tossed her clutch on the sofa, and then she went to work stripping off his clothes, beginning with his tuxedo jacket. Every time she set a button free, he kissed her as if he wished to possess every inch of her body. The third time it happened, she gave up on undressing him and lost herself in his kiss.
But then he drew back, stepped out of her reach, and took over the task of unbuttoning his jacket and shirt. They hit the floor, followed by his shoes and pants, and he stood there in his boxer briefs.
His muscles, oh, God, his muscles…every inch of this man’s body left her aching with the need to touch, taste, explore.
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a wry smile. His message was clear.
Your turn.
She reached for her zipper, but then she hesitated.
“I should dim the lights,” she said.
“No.” His boxer briefs joined the pile, leaving him naked in the middle of her hotel suite.
She drew her lower lip between her teeth, her body restless with desire. In the dark corners of a nightclub, her dress covering her waist, she’d been able to hide the still visible reminders that the last five pounds she’d tried to lose held tight to her hips. Her body was far from faultless. But his? Every muscle defined to perfection—
“The lights stay on,” he said. “I want to see you. Naked and on your knees.” His hand wrapped around his long, hard length and stroked up and down, as though the very sight of her—clothed or unclothed—made him ravenous for her. “I need to see every inch of that gorgeous body when you take me in your mouth.”
His words—the deep, rough sound of his voice—and his lingering gaze on her body made her own desire rise so high that it eclipsed her self-doubt.
Screw it.
Her hands moved to the back of her dress. Her clothes hit the floor piece by piece—dress, bra, panties—as her gaze remained fixed on his hand as he pleasured himself. His hips thrust into his touch, and she longed to take him into her own hands.
Naked apart from her mask, she knelt at his feet. His movement slowed, and she felt his gaze on her. She placed her hands on his thighs and ran them up until her fingers met his. He guided her, showed her how to touch him as her free hand explored the hard lines of his body, mapping the contours.
