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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
At first, I was surprised that someone who drives a Bugatti on a daily basis would be staying in a regular room rather than one of the suites higher up—or even the penthouse. Then I thought, Drago has never come off as over-the-top or someone who cares about materialistic things. He has a nice house and an expensive car, but I haven’t seen anything else that gives away he comes from money.
I like that about him. Even though I come from money, I don’t rely on my father’s wealth, or my brother’s. I pride myself on being independent; a woman that can take care of herself. I never wanted to be someone that, years down the road, couldn’t land on her own feet no matter the circumstance.
And then my mind wandered over into dangerous territory. Drago had a room at a hotel and Rebecca De Luca was with him tonight. Anger coats my skin and I hate the feeling that’s etched inside of me.Was he going to fuck her in here?
If he was, do I really want to know about it?
Unlacing his left boot, I pull it off, placing it next to the right at the end of the bed.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I tip my head up, looking at him as he stares down at me. His hands are braced on either side of him, gripping the comforter he’s sitting on, and currently the only thing keeping him in an upright position. He’s drunk; really drunk. Like Eric, I can smell the bourbon on him from my kneeled position in front of him.
“Just sleep it off, D.”
I stand, taking a step away from him, looking around the room. It’s large enough with a full-length couch next to the bed and an oversized reading chair close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The curtains are drawn open, and although it’s pitch black in the sky, the city still bustles below.
I can’t leave him here alone; I know that. Not knowing Drago’s tolerance for alcohol or even how much he’s had, I need to stay to make sure he’ll be okay. I can leave before he wakes up in the morning. Maybe he won’t even remember I was here. That thought wrecks me. I don’t want to be so forgettable to him, but what if I am?
“I haven’t had you in so long.” His words cut through my negative thoughts, pulling my eyes to him again. “I can remember every detail in my head.” He raises his hands in front of him, flipping his palms over, looking at them as if they’ve offended him. “Yet, the feel of running my hands all over your body is just out of reach like some cruel joke.” He clenches his hands, dropping them back to his sides and resting them on the edge of the mattress.
His eyes climb, seeking mine. When our gazes lock, he stands.
“I need to be inside you, or I’m going to continue to die and wither away until there is nothing left of me. I need to feel you again, baby.” I gasp, not expecting that admission. D stalks forward, but I step backward. With every step he makes, I retreat until my back meets the wall. “Please, Bri,” he begs.
Who knew this large beast in front of me was capable of begging for anything. His sheer need for me is my undoing. I was going to make sure he got into a bed, and I was going to stay to make sure he didn’t throw up and choke on his vomit, but not once did I think I’d be giving myself so willingly to him again.
After all, he is the one that ended us. He didn’t want me, so why does his need for me break down every wall I’ve put up?
“Don’t be gentle,” is my only request, because I need him as much as he needs me—maybe more. And although I love gentle Drago, I crave the beast that I know lurks under the surface of his skin, or maybe it’s the dragon inked on him that’s a part of who he is. Either way, I want it and I need it.
“Get out of those fucking pants before I tear them off your body.” Heat scorches my skin, heating me from the inside out. I can literally feel it climbing up my neck. Nobody’s words have ever affected me the way his do; no one else’s ever will. I know that as a matter of fact as well as I know my own name.
My dress pants are gone as quickly as I can unloop the buttons, shucking them down my legs and kicking them off to the side.
He’s on me within the next second, pressing my head against the wall as his lips devour mine. Nothing about his kiss is gentle; it’s hard, demanding, and in full control. My head starts to spin as his scent mixed with the whiskey infiltrates my senses.
I vaguely hear his belt coming undone and the zipper of his slacks being pulled down. The next thing I know I’m hoisted up the wall, and on instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, but then so am I. He must have pushed his boxer briefs down with his pants, because his thick erection twitches through the material of my panties, causing electrical currents to ripple through my pussy.
I’m wet, I know I am; I have been since the second his tongue swept inside my mouth, dancing with mine. Every single time his teeth bite down on my bottom lip I get a little dizzy. It’s one of my favorite things he does to me.
Drago’s hand grips the back of my thigh on the side of my body that wasn’t shot with such strength I’m certain it’ll leave a bruise that will match the blue hue around my wound. But I couldn’t care less. I want this kind of pain. It’s more pleasurable than not.
I can taste the whiskey on his tongue. It tastes of burnt sweetness and maybe something citrus. As drunk as he seemed only minutes ago, you wouldn’t know it with the steadiness of how he holds me exactly where he wants me; where I want to be.
Dropping me an inch, he presses my upper back farther into the wall. And I gasp, taking his breath down my throat when his dick starts running up and down the lips of my pussy.
“I want my panties off,” I demand. “I need to feel you skin-to-skin, D.”
The satin material is keeping his cock from touching my clit. The desire, the need to have his dick running through my pussy lips instead of on the surface is strong.
He reaches underneath me, pulling my thong over my ass cheek, giving me exactly what I want. I swallow, closing my eyes when I feel his cock touch my skin for the first time in far too long. Drago keeps ahold of my panties so they stay out of the way as he slides through my folds, rubbing my clit just right.
Jesus, this feels good.
Gripping his shoulders, I dig in with my fingers and press down more so that his dick is a hard rod between me.
