His hand grips my hip as he surges into my body as though it belongs to him. The stretch is exquisite, his tortured groan everything. He moves over me, once, twice, pinning me to the bed as my moans layer over his, my whimpers over his whispered compliments.
He rises over me, hooking his hand under my knee. The slick sight of his cock as it works me makes me unspool. My hands, grasping and greedy, drag him down, and I press my teeth to the skin of his neck as it hits.
There. Oh, God. There.My soul twists from my body, euphoric.
He stills as I grind against him, crying out, everything around me ceasing to make sense. There is only Oliver over me, inside me, as I’m consumed by pleasure.
Chapter 7
OLIVER
“Hey.”
“Is dried grass. Is not an appropriate greeting,” I reply.
“Thanks,Mom.” Fin, my friend and business partner, saunters into the suite. “I’ll try for polite next time.”
“Liar.” I swing the door closed. “I thought we were meeting downstairs.”
“I was early.” He pauses midturn, unable to resist his reflection in the wall mirror. He slides his hand through his fair hair and, satisfied all is as it should be, drops negligently onto the end of the sofa. “Actually, you were late. But don’t let that minor detail bother you.”
“By five minutes,” I murmur, making my way across the room to the credenza. “And it’s breakfast, not a merger.”
“It was breakfast, now it’s brunch.”
“Any excuse for a mimosa.” With my back to him, my mouth curls as I swipe up my wallet.
“I’m not your girlfriend.”
“You’re almost pretty enough,” I reply, shooting him a look over my shoulder.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,Mr. My Time Is Valuable.Where’s my apology, huh? You give me shit for my timekeeping.”
“Because it’s mostly an alien concept to you.”
“Why are you staring at your wallet? Did last night’s date clean you out?”
I turn to face him as I slip it into my back pocket. “Paying for companionship is more your thing, isn’t it?”
“One time.” Finger in the air and grin unrepentant, Fin adds, “It happened one time. And she told me she was a model.” His finger becomes accusatory. “And I didn’t pay for it in the end, so it doesn’t count.”
“If you say so.” Leaning back, I fold my arms across my chest.
“Speaking of women”—he glances over his shoulder in the direction of my bedroom—“where is the delightful Selena, anyway?”
My answer is a nonverbalwho?
“Or is it Elizabeth this weekend? Carolina? Whichever horsey woman you’re boning this week.”
I slide him a bored look. Fin has never met Selena, Elizabeth, or anyone else coming out of my bedroom.
“One of these days I’m gonna catch you out,” he says with an admonishing wag of his finger.
“Unlikely.”
“I know women are the reason you live in a hotel.”
“I live here because it’s convenient.”
