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It was so hushed, Simon couldn’t even tease her with a little dirty talk. Instead, a slow intensity bloomed and grew between them.

An older couple met them just as the doors opened. They all rode upstairs in silence. Margo’s fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt.

Instead of letting her be, he drew the pads of his fingers down her ass to the little slit in her skirt. He traced a lazy figure eight along the back of her thigh, then a nine as the numbers lit up above the doors.

She shivered when he traced a ten along her inner thigh and then an eleven. “We’re here,” he said against her throat just before the doors opened. He slipped out of her skirt and took her hand. “Have a good night,” he said to the couple.

“What a nice young man,” the woman said as the doors closed behind them.

“You’re not a nice man,” Margo said in an undertone.

“I’m not?” He walked backwards, leading her down the hallway to their room.

“No.” One brow speared up into the wreckage of her hair. Her bangs were fluffed up from the car and the alley.

He growled. “You’re right.”

And he wasn’t going to apologize for that either. Not when he knew she loved that side of him every bit as much as he loved tearing apart the carefully constructed facade she showed the world.

But not him. Never him.

He dug out their keycard from the little pocket stashed on the back of his phone. Before she could say a word, he pulled her inside, flipped off the little sweater she wore over her corset top, and turned her to face the wall.

“Don’t move. You may want to hold on for this,” he murmured, dragging his fingers over the corset’s hooks to the stretchy fabric of her skirt. He peeled it down, letting it drop to the floor.

“Simon.”

He crowded her into the wall, slipping his hand between her thighs. “So wet for me. I love when you get all riled up from sucking me off. Did it remind you of that night in Saratoga all those years ago?”

She let out a soft groan.

“I remember that night. I lived off that night for a damn long time.” He dug deeper until he felt the pop of her seam giving way for him. The silky warmth of her pussy made him impatient.

Just like another night.

The first night.

He ripped her tights wide open and crouched behind her. He jerked her panties aside to get to her. To taste her. He couldn’t go another minute without it. The civility of undressing her was beyond him at that moment. He lapped at her wetness, dying a little inside when she gave him more. Always gave him more.

Her tights were in tatters before he calmed enough to properly do his job. She soaked his face, his fingers, his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of her as he stroked her and readied her for his cock.

He was already hard for her, but tonight, he felt clumsy. She’d already made him come once, but it had barely slaked the need crawling under his skin. He was wild with it, and didn’t have the wherewithal to temper his hunger.

Or hers.

He followed the call of her body. The sweet relief of her first cries. He used two fingers, then three and licked her from front to back. Anything to get her there. Her thighs trembled first, then her whole body. He gripped her ass as he pushed her for more, demanded everything. When she swayed against him, he gripped her hips to steady her even as he dipped his tongue deeper.

She slapped the wall and growled his name. He smiled against her thigh, then against the slick perfection of her pussy, and he circled her clit with his fingers with an accuracy born of intimate knowledge. It still wasn’t enough.

Her warnings of retribution only drove his need for more.

He stood up and jerked his pants open. He dragged the head of his cock through her lips and groaned at the heat of her.

Another night with tights just as shredded superimposed on this one. He’d been just as wild for her then. The rightness of her clasping body was no less amazing now than it had been that night.

With his other hand, he jerked at the hooks keeping her skin from him.

She pushed at the clothing and twisted her neck enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes were crazy with want. He knew what she needed. When her corset lay at his feet, he filled his hands with her swollen breasts. He tugged on one and she cried out. She didn’t have her piercings in tonight, but she didn’t need them.

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