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I guess he has a point. There’s probably been plenty of action right here in this hotel, come to think of it.
I still can’t believe I’m here with him. He’s so handsome; the girls behind the front desk stop and watch. When I turn their way, raising an eyebrow, they pretend to be busy. “This feels like a dream,” I muse as we step onto the elevator. My feet are killing me, and I’m sore almost all over, but I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. Like I made up for years of not having a life at all in one short night.
And I have him to thank for it, the man still standing with his arm around me. Protective? Possessive? I don’t know. I only know it feels good. And to think, I was shocked and angry when I found him in the room. But I never could have guessed how things would turn out, either.
Now I wish there was more to this than a single night. My heart sinks not at the idea but at the fact that I had the idea in the first place. This is not a man to fall for. We had fun, a lot of fun, but I need to get over it now. Right now, right this very minute, or else I could end up with my heart broken all over again.
“Bed, sweet bed.” Once we’re in the room, I sink onto it, not bothering to take my coat off before I do. What matters more is getting these heels off—I’m not used to walking in them, and my feet are starting to go numb.
When Colton catches me messing with the straps, he sinks to one knee before me. “Let me.” Even now, half-dead with exhaustion, I can’t help but thrill at his touch. He takes his work seriously, carefully unfastening the buckles before loosening the straps covering my feet and ankles, then easing the shoes away from my feet. I let out a blissful sigh, one that only gets louder when he begins rubbing one foot with his big, strong hands.
“You don’t have to do that,” I whisper, though I don’t want him to stop.
“Again, telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. Don’t you know better by now?”
He’s right. I should know better. Instead of telling him to stop, I settle into it, allowing the pressure from his hands to soothe the ache in my feet.
Unfortunately, a new ache is starting to stir. One that begins a lot higher up, the place where my thighs join. Not a minute ago, I was sure I couldn’t do anything else tonight but pass out cold.
Now, watching him take the job of rubbing my feet so seriously, on his knees in front of me… It’s intoxicating, the way the rest of the night has been.
“How are your legs? Are they sore, too?”
“Now that you mention it…” I bite back a giggle as he moves his hands further up until he’s massaging my calves. It’s magic, his skillful touch, how he applies just the right amount of pressure until I could just about melt into nothing.
“I like this too.” He goes from staring at my legs to looking up at me. “Alone, all to myself. With nobody else looking at you.”
He works his way up to my thighs, and I realize I’m holding my breath as he inches the hem of my dress higher and higher, exposing an inch of skin at a time. Soon, it’s not enough for him to only touch me. He begins dragging his lips over my skin, and there’s nothing for me to do but sink deep into mindless bliss, every touch, every brush of his lips, and flick of his tongue pulling me deeper into pleasure.
But it’s different than before. I couldn’t describe it in words if I tried. I only know how it feels. He’s gentler now than he was at the club. Almost considerate. I’m not going to fool myself into thinking it means anything, but is it wrong that I sort of want it to?
No, you idiot, it’s just for tonight. Maybe it would be better if I stopped him?
I would also be the stupidest person in the world if I did. Who would stop this? The anticipation that makes my breath catch and my heart race, the growing heat, the promise of what’s to come.
Besides, now that he said it, I understand something else: I want him all to myself, too. Just the two of us, one more time. If I have to spend the rest of my life without him, I might as well have plenty to remember him by.
By the time the dress is around my hips, and he’s begun to lap at the soft seam between my leg and my mound, I’m on my back, writhing, moaning his name. I want to lose myself in him again, to lose all connection to the girl I was when I woke up this morning. I want what he brings out of me. He called me a goddess, and that’s who I want to be, his goddess. Someone worthy of worship.
And he is worshiping me, lapping at my covered pussy before pulling the panties down, over my knees, my ankles. But instead of eating me again, he sits me up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he strips off my coat, tossing it aside before unzipping my dress and sliding it down my shoulders, my arms, until finally, he pulls it off entirely, where it joins my coat on the floor.
“These tits. Perfection.” That’s all he says before burying his face between them, grunting like an animal, then unfastening my bra so he can feast on my nipples. Back and forth he goes, taking his time running his tongue in slow, lazy circles before drawing them between his teeth and sucking. All I can do is whimper my approval, running my hands through his hair and holding him as close as I can.
I want him. Not just tonight, but always. I’ve never felt more alive—who could blame me for not wanting to give this up?
He releases me with a popping sound, looking up to give me an almost drowsy smile. “You are perfect.” Those three little words go straight to my pussy, making my clit throb painfully. Perfect. He thinks I’m perfect.
I need to touch him. I need to feel him and explore him like I haven’t been able to yet. I take off his tie, then begin unbuttoning his shirt. I want to touch what I’ve seen. I need to commit every bit of him to memory.
I shouldn’t be surprised that once his shirt is off and I begin running my hands over his impossibly huge shoulders and chest, that he’s quick to take my wrists in his hands and hold them together.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
He doesn’t answer verbally, but he doesn’t really need to once he wraps the silk tie around my wrists and pulls tight, rendering me pretty much helpless.
He then pushes me back onto the bed, holding my wrists above my head with one hand while nudging my legs apart with his body. His covered erection presses against my pussy, and my eyes roll back in my head at the unbelievable heat building there. Not just heat, either.
Hunger. A deep yearning for more. For all of him.
