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31
AVERY
Original featuresof the old building adorn Bryn's hotel room—old-fashioned furniture, beams in the ceiling and hideous fleur-de-lys wallpaper. Somehow, the décor in the room isn’t going to be what sticks in my mind tomorrow or whenever I look back at this night.
“This is strange,” I say as Bryn tugs me close from behind and rests his chin on my head.
“How?”
“Me and you. The things you said tonight are a shock. Up until a couple of days ago, I never wanted to see you again.”
Bryn turns me around and runs his finger along my cheek, the intent in his darkened eyes clear. This is what I want too. I want his lips and his hands on me, to be in his arms tonight and every night. I want Bryn in a way I never thought possible, the way the sun needs to shine and the rain needs to fall.
Most of all, I want to be his. In Bryn’s eyes, there’s breath-snatching truth: I already am.
I dig my hands beneath his shirt, tiptoeing so my mouth reaches his. Effortlessly, Bryn picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding his face as I kiss him. Bryn responds with an engulfing passion, our teeth clashing as he backs me against the wall. I tear my mouth away to catch my breath and Bryn shifts his attention to my neck, kissing and nipping my skin.
Beneath his hands and mouth, I disintegrate into pleasure, digging my nails into Bryn’s back to keep myself grounded, trembling.
“Bryn,” I whisper as he dips his tongue into the hollow of my neck.
“What?”
“I never said.”
“What?” His words are distant, pre-occupied.
“About how I feel.”
Bryn ignores me and pushes me harder against the wall, sliding his hand along my thigh. “You feel good to me.”
“How I feel about you.”
“You’re about to have what I guarantee will be mind-blowing sex with me, when you said you never would. I think I know,” he says mouth not leaving my skin.
At his promise, I grip him harder, as he pushes my dress higher, large palm against my ass, his obvious arousal pressing against me.
“I know, but…”
Sighing, Bryn drops me to the floor. “Stop talking and tell me how to get this dress off.” Finding the zip on the side, Bryn tugs but it doesn't move. He growls in frustration and pulls harder.
“Don't tear my dress!”
“Get out of it then!”
“You're a bit bossy, aren't you?”
Bryn pulls both straps of my dress from my shoulders and runs his tongue along my collarbone before meeting my mouth. “Take your clothes off.”
I pull my head back and raise an eyebrow. “You do know it's me you’re dealing with here, and I don't–”
In a swift movement, Bryn seizes hold of me and pushes backward so I fall onto the bed, my hair splaying across the sheets.
“Fine, don't take the dress off. I can work with that.” Bryn kneels and settles between my legs, pushing my dress to my waist, and himself against me. The fervour of his hands and mouth shock and arouse me, as I give in to what my body has screamed at me to do every time I’ve been alone with Bryn.
As Bryn’s mouth hungrily claims mine, his hands move to my leg again, but this time when he pushes his hand up my thigh, he doesn't stop. I gasp as he runs a finger along my panties.
The taste of this man, the skill of his kisses and the way he teases, triggers my own recklessness to match Bryn’s loosening self-control. I shuffle backwards onto the bed and pull Bryn by the shirt, wanting his body covering mine. He slides his hand along my side to the zip again and as he pulls hard, I hear the seam rip.
