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We both watched as they dripped down the curves of her breast, a drop falling on her thigh before she decided to rub it all into her skin.
Holy fuck.
All I could do was stare as she gazed happily down at herself, admiring her gleaming tits before pulling her dress back on and climbing back onto my lap.
She wore a dirty smile on her lips, clearly satisfied with whatever dazed look I had on my face as she slid her palms up my chest to circle her arms around my neck. She let out an mmm as she sighed, and as she gazed at me—like a little sex kitten with that sultry look of content—I found myself aching badly to taste her lips. To taste her mouth and her tongue and confirm just how sweet I knew she was.
But for whatever reason, I didn’t let myself do it.
As if it meant something for me to hold back on this last indulgence.
“Can we still go back to the hotel?” she asked me softly, breaking me out of my daze. It was her squirming that even alerted me to the fact that I’d absently slipped my hands back under her skirt to play with her pussy.
Poor girl. She was so fucking wet all the time.
“Yeah,” I said, letting her gently ease my cock back into my pants and buckle me up as I called my driver. I already knew I was far from done with her for the night, because fuck it, I was already going to hell.
I might as well make it worth it.
17
HOLLAND
I woke in the morning to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand, but I was steeped so deep in my warm, toasty, particularly heavenly slumber that I ignored it, letting myself drift back to sleep before it started buzzing again.
Co
me on, I whined inwardly, shooting my arm out to grab my phone, answering with my voice muffled and my face still half-buried in my pillow.
“Hello?” I mumbled.
“Morning, sunshine.”
At the first sound of that merry, smart ass voice, my eyes shot open. And all at once, I processed everything.
I was still in the hotel room. From last night. My brother was on the phone. And the water was running in the bathroom.
Because Iain was in the shower.
Holy shit, he’s still here.
He’s still here and he’s showering.
I raced through several emotions in a matter of seconds—stunned excitement to confusion to a vague, kind of hazy unease as I hurriedly ran my mind back to remember the end of last night.
Oh God. I squirmed under the sheets at the memory.
Because Iain couldn’t keep his hands off me in that car last night. After his driver got in, he’d fingered me to another orgasm, forcing me to walk across the hotel lobby dripping between my thighs. He murmured such dirty things to me through the whole elevator ride, getting me so hot and bothered that I knew he was going to devour me the second we got in the room.
But the second we got in the room, he got a call from a client out West, and even I could hear how fired up this guy was. So I showered while he took care of the call, and by the time I got out, he was still on the phone. He didn’t look up when I peeked my head out from the bedroom, so I decided to scroll Instagram on the bed till he was done.
But then apparently, I fell asleep. And apparently, he let me.
And not only that, he stayed the night as well.
But wait. Did he sleep too? Right here? With me? I had a million questions as I looked at his undisturbed side of the bed.
“Hello?” Adam said impatiently, startling me back to earth. “Jesus. Did you fall back asleep?”
