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The doors pinged just in time. She backed her way in, my hands on her hips, until her back hit the wall and my body hit hers.
“You ready, Lancaster?” she asked teasingly. I smiled and dipped my lips to her ear.
“Always, Winnie Winslow. Always. And do you know why?”
She smiled; I could feel her cheek pull up against mine and her breath hitch right in her throat. “You love me.”
“More than your perfect beating heart will ever know.”
As the elevator doors shut, Wes’s eyes changed from playful to predatory. My nipples hardened in anticipation as his thick arms caged me in. We were the only ones in the car, and my ragged breathing sounded damn near obscene in the small space.
He nuzzled his face into my neck, and with the very tip of his tongue, licked a warm path to my ear. “Something has been on my mind all day,” he whispered into my ear.
“What?”
I could feel his smile against my skin. “Wicked hotel sex with a woman named Winnie,” he answered.
Our name is Winnie! my vagina shouted in excitement.
“Do you want to hear about it?” His hands moved into my hair, caressing the strands and turning my neck to the side so he could suck softly at the base of my neck.
“Yes, please,” I answered on a quiet moan.
“It starts with a room covered in white. Duvet, sheets, pillows, everything. All white,” he said against my skin. “And Winnie is naked, in the center of the big, white bed, on all fours. Waiting. Like a trophy. Prey. Like a pleasure-filled nude. Her skin looks so much darker against everything around her, and the skin between her thighs is already slick with arousal.”
Holy fucking shit…
“I take off my clothes slowly, meticulously, with my eyes locked on Winnie, her back arching to stop herself from coming before we even get started,” he described with his lips to my ear. “And she’s not the only one fighting it off. The sight of her perfect tits bouncing below her with each breath is almost more than I can take.”
His hands slid down my arms and then back up again, encouraging goose bumps to pepper my skin. I couldn’t fight my moan, and my head fell back against the wall of the elevator. At least, I thought we were in an elevator, but hell, who knew at that point. I couldn’t think past anything besides Wes’s sexy-as-fuck words and the incessant throbbing between my legs.
“When the anticipation is finally too much, I walk to the bed, to Winnie, taking my time, like a predator savoring his already lost prey. Torturing the little creature by smelling it hungrily and licking its skin. Every fucking inch of her perfect, delicious skin. Dipping my head between her legs, I don’t even make an effort to hide that I’m smelling Winnie’s perfect cunt.”
God. Who knew the whole prey-predator thing was this hot? Who cared if it ended with a praying mantis move. Actually, it’s the females who eat the male’s head, right? So at least I’m safe.
My hands found their way to his T-shirt, gripping it tightly in a desperate attempt to find some sort of balance. I feared I might melt into a million tiny puddles at his feet.
“I suck her hanging tits, rubbing each nipple with the tip of my tongue until she can’t take it anymore, so lost in the numbing sensation that she needs the bite of my teeth. God,” he groaned. “We both feel out of control. And we’ll stay that way as I whisper into her ear and lean over her from the back, with my hard cock pressed against her cunt.
“Maybe, she doesn’t even get my hard cock inside of her. Maybe, I spoil her rotten, and eat her sweet little pussy for hours. The whole time, though, Winnie has no idea what she’s in for.”
Can you get high from words alone? Because I think I’m high.
High as a motherfucking kite…
The elevator dinged our arrival to the twentieth floor where our suite was located, but at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I even knew my name. I just really fucking hoped it was Winnie.
Wes grabbed my hand and led me out of the elevator and down the hall, until we were standing in front of the teal grand entrance. This place cost a fucking lick, but the Billionaire was footing the bill.
Yeah, some things about the money are nice.
He slid the room key into the slot, and our entry was granted with a flash of green. His hand never left mine as he moved through the pristine suite, dragging my willing body toward the master bedroom.
The second we walked inside, I knew everything was about to change.
The golden duvet and matching mahogany pillows were gone.
And in their place, white.
All white.
Everywhere white.
“Take off your clothes, Winnie,” he demanded. “And get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”
I didn’t have to think twice, removing my simple sundress, bra, panties, and sandals with the precision of a professional clothes remover. Not that that was an actual job, but I knew if it were, I’d be hired on the spot.
I crawled onto the bed on my hands and knees until I was in the center of the big, white bed, on all fours, with my eyes facing the wall and Wes at my back.
“Beautiful,” he whispered and ran a finger down my spine. “So fucking beautiful.”
I could hear him removing his clothes, at the exact pace he had described, not rushing, not taking his time, but simply removing with confidence and precision.
The sounds of his shoes slipping off and his boxers softly hitting the carpeted floor only increased the delicious torture, and my spine curved of its own accord, pushing my ass and pussy toward him for some relief.
And then he was on the bed behind me, naked chest pressed to my back. My body trembled in response as I felt his thick, hard cock sliding through my arousal.
“Yes, baby,” he whispered into my ear. “Already so wet for me.”
“Please, Wes,” I begged. “Please, I need to feel you.”
He pushed the tip of himself inside of me and then just as quickly pulled back out. I whimpered, and my back arched from the delicious torture.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” I whispered, delirious with my need for him. “Please. Please. Please. I need to feel you.”
“You beg so prettily, sweetheart.” His hand reached forward and pulled my chin back toward him. He licked across my bottom lip and then sucked it into his mouth at the exact same time he pushed himself deep.
My responding guttural moan echoed inside the spacious room.
“Consider this just a taste of what’s to come, sweetheart,” he whispered against my mouth. “Me and you are going to clock a lot of miles on this bed this week, and you can bet that later tonight, I’m going to feast on that perfect cunt for hours, Win.”
I was lost after that.
And he didn’t hold back, driving into me with smooth and steady strokes until I felt myself falling into the abyss of my climax.
“Yes,” he encouraged, and his hands gripped my breasts, his thumbs sliding across my pebbled nipples. “Let me feel that perfect pussy come all over my cock.”
And I did. Just like that. With me on all fours and Wes at my back, the memory of both the actual encounter and the perfect teasing way Wes had painted it preemptively, he thrust inside of me with hard and deep and fast strokes that gave me no choice but to come on a scream that most likely let half the resort know what was happening inside our room.
Holy hell, I have the best life. The best fucking life. Literally and figuratively.
About an hour after part one of wicked hotel sex with Wes had come to a close, I was sitting inside a spacious conference room, surrounded by the staff and players of the Mavericks. Wes stood at the front of the room, eyes serious and mouth set in a firm line.
God, he looked so sexy. I knew we were there to discuss important matters—and hopefully, to prevent a publicity nightmare—but I couldn’t stop thinking about that white bed. And me on the white bed. And me and Wes on the white bed. And the fact that there would be more of me and Wes on the white bed.
God, if I keep blushing like this, everyone will know what’s on my mind. And with these characters, it’s bound to turn into a fucking curtain call where Wes and I are forced into alternately bowing and accepting compliments on our performance.
I cleared my throat and tried to gain some perspective. Now was not the time for fantasies, no matter how amazing those fantasies were.
But were they really fantasies?
I mean, I knew they were going to become reality.
Hopefully, part two would begin right after Wes stressed to the group of burly football players dressed in board shorts and flip-flops, that no one would be “crowning” Miss Teen USA unless they wanted their balls FedExed Next Day Air back to their homes from Atlantis.
Yes, good job, Win. Focus on the team. The players.
Anything but the white bed…Goddammit…
“Does anyone have any questions about anything I just explained?” Wes asked the group, glancing around the room as if to dare one of them to ask or say something ridiculous.
I honestly hadn’t heard a single word he’d said, too lost in my own pervy daydreams.
“I’ve got a question,” Quinn Bailey announced.
Wes’s eyebrows rose, and he nodded toward Quinn. “Yeah?”
“What’s wrong with Dr. Double U?”
Within seconds, every person in the room had their eyes on me. I fought the urge to shield my face or crawl under the table. Which was an extremely odd reaction coming from me. I mean, I was generally always composed and could handle anything.
