“And what do you believe in, Samantha Hayes?” I met his gaze. “Right now? Letting my boss fuck me in a beautiful hotel room.” He took my hand, brought it to his lips.
“Then you’re exactly where you belong.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
theo
She tastedlike champagne and bad intentions.
Her lips found mine the second I closed the space between us, soft at first, testing, teasing, then hungry. Desperate, even. Like we’d both been holding our breath all night, and this kiss was oxygen. Her hands found the sides of my jacket, tugging me closer until I could feel every curve of her pressed against me, silk on silk, heat under skin.
“God, you’re bad for me,” I muttered, mouth brushing her jaw as my fingers slipped the pin from her hair. Dark brown waves tumbled down, wild and soft, and I fisted a handful as she gasped.
“And you’re terrible at pretending you don’t want this,” she whispered, tugging my tie loose with a practiced flick of her wrist. She pushed the jacket from my shoulders. I let it fall. The tie followed. She unbuttoned my shirt like she had a plane to catch, fast, focused, not even pretending to be delicate. I lovedthat about her. I hated how much I loved that about her.
“You wore this dress on purpose,” I growled, lips skimming her collarbone, hands sliding down the open back, fingers brushing bare skin. “Knew exactly what it would do to me.” She laughed, breathless and cocky. “I wore it because it makes my ass look great.”
“Accurate,” I said, gripping said ass and lifting her onto the edge of the table beside the champagne. Her legs wrapped around me instantly, instinctively, like we’d done this a hundred times. My hand slid up her thigh, pushing the silk higher, until I found exactly where she should have panties.
“You weren’t joking about not wearing panties?” I asked, my voice hoarse. She tilted her head, smug. “Would’ve ruined the line of the dress.”
“Jesus Christ, Samantha.” I kissed her again, rougher now, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she tugged my shirt open. Her hands were everywhere, chest, shoulders, neck, like she couldn’t get enough. Neither could I.
She pulled back just enough to breathe. “Take off your pants.” I stepped back and did as I was told, dropping them to the floor. She watched, chest rising, lips parted, looking at me like she was hungry for me. She got down from the table, took her dress off, as I served the champagne without looking away from her. She wasn’t wearing anything.
Her breasts bounced slowly as she sat at the edge of the bed. She opened her legs, “Come here, Mr.Jones.” Her voice was low, teasing, almost dangerous. “Show me how you take control.”
“Bossy,” I murmured, stepping between her knees, giving her the glass. She took a sip of the Dom, eyes focused on mine, and set the glass on the floor next to her. I step between her legs and push her back onto the bed, slow but firm, watching the way her eyes flicker with heat. She let me. Her legs stayed open, inviting, daring me to do something about it.
So, I did. I dropped just a little bit of champagne on her body. It splashed onto her breasts, her stomach, and just a bit under her belly button. She gasped at the cold. I set my glass on the table and went to kiss her. Her mouth opened beneath mine, soft and sweet, until I deepened my tongue, teasing her lower lip with my teeth. She moaned into my mouth.
I moved lower, my lips trailing down the elegant line of her throat, licking the drops of champagne there, stopping to feel the flutter of her pulse under my tongue.
Then further, down the curve of her collarbone, and lower. She gasped when I sucked lightly on the soft swell of her breast, her back arching, her fingers tightening in the sheets now. I took my time licking the rest of the Dom off her.
My tongue flicked over her nipple, drawing another breathless sound from her lips. I circled it, teased it, feeling it harden under the attention. Her body shifted beneath me, hips pressing up as if every nerve ending in her body was bound to my mouth.Then I bit, just enough to make her cry out. Her hand fisted the sheets, head thrown back, lips parted in something between a moan and a curse.
“Fuck, Theo…” That sound, my name, raw in her throat, sent heat straight through my spine. I moved to her other breast, kissing a trail across her chest before repeating the same slow torture. My tongue teased, my teeth grazed, and her hands never stopped moving—my hair, my shoulders, the space between us, she couldn't get enough.
“Are you trying to kill me?” she breathed, voice wrecked. I looked up at her, lips wet, jaw tight with restraint. “Not yet.” I dragged my mouth lower, across her stomach, pausing just above where she was already pulsing with heat. Her breath hitched, hands fisting the sheets again as I looked up at her, watching her squirm beneath me, completely undone.
I kissed the inside of her thigh, slow and open-mouthed, letting my tongue graze her skin. She shivered, legs falling open further like a silent invitation. I did the same to the other thigh, nipping gently this time, just enough to make her whimper and try to shift her hips closer.
“Patience, sweetheart,” I murmured, even though I had none myself. She moaned my name, a plea and a curse in one, and when I finally dipped my head between her thighs, I didn’t hesitate.
One long stroke of my tongue, finding her clit on the first try, and she gasped like the air had been punched out of her lungs. “Oh, fuck—” Her hipslifted off the bed. I wrapped an arm under her thigh, locking her in place, and did it again, slower, firmer. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging hard as I devoured her, tracing her rhythm, matching her breath.
She was sweet, warm, soaked, already on the edge, and I wasn’t going to stop until she fell apart completely. Her thighs trembled. Her voice was wrecked. And when I sucked her clit into my mouth just once, she shattered, hips jerking, mouth open in a silent cry, eyes squeezed shut as the waves took her.
I didn’t stop. Not until she begged. Not until her hands tugged me up, pulling me to her mouth like she couldn’t stand one more second without kissing me. She tasted herself on my mouth, and I felt her unravel, right there in my arms. Her fingers wrapped around me with a grip that made my jaw clench. My breath hitched, every muscle going taut as she stroked me slowly.
I tried to say something, maybe her name, maybe a warning, but then she sank down, lips parting around the tip, and my thoughts scattered. “Fuck, Samantha,” I groaned, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, the other buried in her hair, not guiding, just there.
Her mouth was warm, soft, and so goddamn confident. She moved like she knew exactly what I liked, exactly how far to push. Her tongue slid along my length in slow strokes, her fingers curled around what she couldn’t take. Every sound she made, everyglance up through those lashes, was wrecking me. I looked down at her, flushed and focused, and I swear I’d never seen anything more dangerous. Or more beautiful.
“You’re going to ruin me,” I said, breathless. She smirked around me, wicked and knowing, and that was it. She already had. I pulled her up, her breath still shaky from the way she’d just unraveled for me. Her lips were swollen, pupils wide, skin flushed. Beautiful didn’t cover it; she looked wrecked and radiant all at once.
“On your knees,” I murmured, voice low.
