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My breasts heave against the door and my breaths come fast and uncoordinated as I lay my heated cheek on the surface.
As if that’s not enough to send me into hyperawareness, he tangles his fingers in my hair and pushes the long strands to the side, baring my back and neck, then wraps his hand around my nape.
He grabs it in a steel-like hold, leaving me no room to move, and the knowledge of that? The fact that I’m completely at his mercy draws a shudder from deep within me. It’s long and consuming and leaves me in a daze.
I’m not supposed to surrender to this, right? To the knowledge that I might not be able to escape his clutches, even if I wished to.
It’s not in my good-girl genes to want this, but I can’t help the subconscious tremors rushing through me.
His teeth find my earlobe and he bites down. I’m drunk on the scent of his cologne, the discreet yet mystic quality to it, just like that forest from my childhood.
Logically, I should’ve stayed away from it and him, but I can’t.
I won’t.
I’m held hostage by his relentless grip and savage beauty. The type of beauty I didn’t know I was attracted to until tonight.
He’s still licking my earlobe, nibbling, assaulting it with his tongue, when he whispers, “Now, tell me, beautiful. Do you believe it’s a good idea to come with a complete stranger into a hotel room and not ask for his name?”
Shit.
Please don’t tell me he actually knows my family? Is this an attempt to lure me into a trap and expose me?
I put a halt to those thoughts before they occupy me. I’m just being paranoid.
That’s it. Paranoia and my inability to cope with it.
So I whisper, “I like it.”
“What do you like?”
“The no-strings-attached part.”
“I like that, too, but do you know what I like about it the most?”
“What?” My voice is too breathy and it has everything to do with his hold on me, with the way his thumb grazes my pulse point and pushes down as if emphasizing it.
“That I can do whatever I want.” His voice becomes raspy and it’s grabbing me in a chokehold, or maybe it’s his words.
Maybe it’s a combination of both.
Either way, I’m trapped in a state I’ve never experienced, and for the life of me, I can’t decide whether that’s good or bad.
All I know is that not knowing his name and deciding this is a one-time thing makes me lose all my inhibitions.
“You’ll let me, won’t you, beautiful?”
“Yeah…” I trail off because I wasn’t thinking when I agreed. Or maybe I haven’t been thinking during this whole night. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but who am I kidding? It’s not the vodka that’s flowing through my veins right now. It’shim.
Everything about him.
“Good.” He laps his tongue on the shell of my ear. “Now, tell me, are you a virgin?”
The sudden question freezes my limbs and causes my pulse to roar and throb in my veins, right beneath his hold.
“Why are you asking?” I speak so low, I’m surprised he can hear me.
“I don’t do virgins.”
