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It’s a heady feeling, soaking myself in the juices I helped create.
I work my fingers in and out, drawing out her orgasm and serving her another because we both deserve this release after the night we’ve had.
My baby is going to sleep well tonight.
And then the image I did not anticipate sneaks into my psyche. There should be no place for tender romance in the midst of tied up finger fucking in a stairwell. But before I can shoo it away, a picture of my sweet Melissa curled up in my arms surfaces in my mind’s eye.
There she is, naked and sleeping against my chest while I stroke her hair, watching her breathe.
It’s sick. I’m demented. My eldest brother’s sickeningly sweet romantic flair that came about when he met Jessica is contagious, infecting what used to be a penchant for a quick fuck and a slap on the ass as thanks.
But there the image remains, burned forever in that awful way a trauma stays with you longer than it should. Only this image brings a peace to me that I never knew existed, so I cling tighter to it, making it mine forever. Melissa keeps coming on my face, but my mind’s eye drifts to that sleepy doll, all flushed and perfect, trusting a criminal like me to protect her while she dreams.
I don’t know who I am.
Melissa’s orgasms crest, her limbs losing their fight with every breath she drags into her lungs. Her head lolls to the side in complete satisfaction.
A door opens and a gasp sounds from above, completing the fantasy for my dirty doll of being spied on during sex.
I stand and collect her things while she recovers and decides between sleep and post-coital conversation.
No need.
I untie her legs and massage them to get the blood flowing. Then I hoist her clothes over my shoulder, along with her two bags of belongs. I scoop my doll in my arms like a bride and carry her up the steps and into the hallway of the third floor, where our night is just beginning.
7
Carrying a naked woman and all her things through the hallway is far easier than I imagined. Perhaps that’s because my cock is hard as a rock, and I am mere feet away from sinking myself into her soaking heat. I’ve never wanted to get anywhere faster than I want to get my Melissa into the hotel room and spread out on the sheets.
“Someone is going to see us!” she protests, her drooping eyelids fighting between bliss and fright.
“I hope they do. I like showing off what’s mine. Make sure everyone knows this sexy naked woman is staying in a room with me tonight.”
She smiles like a cat who’s far too pleased with herself at the thought. “Thank you for the best night of my life. I can’t believe we just did that. It’s been my fantasy for so long. Do you think anyone saw us?”
I smirk at her intrigue. “I know they did. I didn’t exactly lock the doors to the stairwell. I had other things on my mind, like making you scream my name.” I set her bare feet down only so I can swipe us into the room. “Satisfying, that.”
She huddles into my side, shielding her breasts and that delicious triangle between her legs by pressing them into me.
I kiss her once the door pops open, backing her into the room and kicking the door shut behind us. She is just as sinfully sweet as she was when she was on display for me, and even though she’s climaxed a handful of times, she’s ready for more.
If there was any sure sign that she’s the one for me, it would be that.
Melissa slides my jacket off my arms without breaking our kiss.
It’s a standard room I’ve chosen because if Lance is looking for her, knowing I have her, he wouldn’t suspect a Moretti would settle for anything short of the penthouse. My queen deserves better than this king-sized generic hotel room, but she deserves safety, too, and a good night’s sleep.
I can deliver on both those points.
“I like when you undress me,” I whisper between kisses while she fiddles with the buttons on my starched white dress shirt. “Your kink is being watched? Mine is you.”
She smirks through our kiss. “That’s a good line.”
I shake my head as she tugs the dress shirt off me and throws it on the floor. “It’s not a line. I’m not the kind of guy who needs a line. You’re the prettiest goddamn vixen I’ve ever seen. We could have a quiet night of missionary, and it would be the hottest sex of my life.”
I grab her ass with both hands after she slides my undershirt over my head. It’s firm, round and just the right height. Everything about this woman is perfect, and I intend to declare my infatuation in no uncertain terms once I get her onto the bed.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I swear aloud. “I’m sorry, Melissa. I have to answer, no matter what. Family rules.” It’s the unofficial fourth rule. The first three were set down by our father; the fourth of “always answer for family” was set by Brunello. We don’t argue when he lays out logical demands.
