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He eyes me, as though sizing me up. I meet his gaze steadily.
“Well?” I repeat when he doesn't move.
He grins, that sly and—damn it—rather charming grin, and deals the first hand.
It takes me about five hands to realize I'm in over my head. Not only is he much better at poker than I am, but he's also wearing way more clothes by default than I am.
“You cold?” he teases, looking me up and down as I shiver and curl up on myself. My shoes went first, one then the other. Then my necklace. Then my dress, so now I'm only in my bra and underwear and the only thing he's lost is a single stupid shoe.
“You said I wasn't allowed to put a blanket on,” I reply, still very cold but too proud to admit it. He's trying to get me to admit defeat, and I won't do that.
He hums. His eyes are like a trail of fire as they look me up and down, shamelessly. I'm not doing much to dissuade him, though, so maybe that's on me. He's being shameless because I'm letting him be.
“I do hate to see a beautiful woman suffering,” he murmurs, and meets my eyes with another sly grin. “I could warm you up.”
I arch a brow. “And how would you do that?”
In answer, he slowly licks his lips, and suddenly it's like we're back in the elevator and his mouth is on me, hot and eager and very, very talented and…
I shiver, pressing my legs together, which I realize a second too late. I can't hide or pass off the way I am feeling, since I'm basically completely naked in front of him and there's nowhere to hide. It's not like I have a high ground there anyway, the smug dick knows I'm attracted to him and knows he's capable of getting me off, so of course he's going to latch onto that. He’s like a dog with a freaking bone.
“You could just go sleep on the couch like a gentleman and let me get under the covers,” I say without much heat.
“Mm, but covers won't keep you as warm as I can,” he replies, setting his hand down and rising from his sitting position to a kneeling one. He slowly starts crawling over to me, and I…don't move. I don't want to move. “I can make you feel like you're burning, Sloan.”
His fingers graze my ankle, running up for a split second before lifting away. He's so close now, close enough to lean forward and kiss. He's on his hands and knees, prowling towards me like a predator. I bite my lower lip, hard, and slowly push the knee closest to him out, and shiver when he immediately puts his hand on my inner thigh.
“Go on, then,” I challenge. “Warm me up.”
With a victorious, eager smile, he lunges the final distance and kisses me. I spread my legs with another shiver, already much warmer when he settles between my thighs with a happy sigh, like this is where he's meant to be. He tugs me down off my mountain of pillows and presses me flat on the bed, shoving cards out of the way so they clatter to the floor with a hollow fluttering sound.
His hands are restless and greedy, tugging my underwear down off my hips and to my knees in one sure motion, then he reaches under my body to unhook and remove my bra, so I'm completely naked.
“You know, if you're going to pretend this is all about warming me up, skin on skin contact is better,” I say with a laugh.
He laughs as well, kissing his way down my chest.
“You're right,” he says, quickly turning his attention to his shirt and tie, his belt, his slacks, that stupid remaining shoe and both of his socks. He keeps kissing his way down my body, not pausing anywhere, his focus is completely on his destination. “But we both know what this is really about.”
He looks up at me for a single moment, long enough for me to give him one more nod of permission, before he closes his eyes and dives down between my legs like he's ravenous for it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he—or anyone—would be so eager to do this, or that it would feel so good. It's like he has a map to every sensitive part of me and absolutely no sense of mercy.
I can't control the noises I'm making as he curls his tongue around my clit and starts sucking, embarrassingly loudly in my opinion, not that he seems to care. And not like I can keep quiet for long when he's using his mouth like that, so we're both being noisy. Hopefully our neighbours forgive me.
I moan loudly, spreading my legs further when he nudges my knees apart with his shoulders to get closer, two of his fingers sliding over my entrance to get them wet—and, God, I'm so wet already, my face flushes just thinking about it.
He pushes his fingers inside me and curls them, tugging lightly against that sensitive spot buried just inside me as he scrapes his teethsogently over my clit and then licks over it, back and forth, heavy and slow. The combined petting motions send waves of pleasure up my spine, like I'm being slowly dragged down, down, down, farther and deeper by the heavy, hot weight pooling low in my stomach.
Frantically reaching for purchase, one of my hands slides into his hair and I fist my fingers in his hair, biting my lower lip when he merely moans in encouragement and runs his tongue over my clit more quickly. Clearly, he likes having his hair pulled. My other hand is holding on to the sheets for dear life.
One thing is for certain: I'm not cold anymore.
Sweat breaks out behind my knees and at the small of my back, and I only notice because he hooks an arm beneath my back and makes me arch up, tugging me closer to his mouth and fingers. That heat is building up inside me, coiling tighter and tighter like a snake. I can't catch my breath.
“Noah,” I try to warn, even as my thighs start to tighten, my legs clenching around his head. I pull on his hair, but it does nothing except make him move his fingers faster. The waves feel ground-breaking now, like a tide I don't have the strength to fight. My stomach keeps tensing and there isn't enough air in the room. “Noah, I—”
He moans against my sensitive, aching pussy, and pulls back, suddenly enough to make me gasp. He rises to his knees and I lift my head to look at him, finding him fisting his cock, which is so thick and hard, it looks painful.
I need it inside me.
