Mike came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close.
“It’s not even a question.” He pulled back her hair and ran his mouth along her neck, sucking, nipping, loving. “What happened to your braids,” he asked, his voice hoarse with need.
“Decided on a new look.”
“I like it, but your braids ... I miss them.” His teeth dragged over her ear, latching onto her earlobe. “I want you so fucking bad. All of you.” He squeezed her hip from behind.
Lynx twisted in his arms so she could face him, and stood on the balls of her feet to reach his mouth. “All of me?” Her lips tickled against his as she spoke.
“Every inch—past, present, and future.”
And then he latched onto her mouth. He wasn’t gentle. He was convincing, taking, grabbing her bottom lip between his and sucking.
A small moan came from Lynx, giving Mike’s tongue entry into her mouth. With her back pressed firmly against the glass, he made love to her mouth, one hand planted on her hip, the other on her ass.
Lynx craved more friction, but she didn’t want to rush this moment. It was too special, too momentous, too overwhelming with sensations.
Mike slowed and pulled his mouth away. “Is this okay?”
She nodded and ran her hand down his arm—noting the goose bumps that formed along her way.
On Big Mike.
“I want you,” he said. “Think I said that already, but I can’t help myself. I could say it all fucking night, but I don’t want to pressure you.”
Mike looked deep in her eyes, searching for an answer, maybe a commitment. She gave one quick nod and he picked her up off the floor, smiling when she wrapped her legs around his middle. He walked with her somewhere. The bedroom, she guessed.
His bedroom was decorated in white and gray, with a platform king-sized bed covered with a gray comforter. A steel dresser and bureau, and nothing else. The room was impersonal and completely devoid of any color.
Mike set her on the bed and pulled her shirt off. “There now, the place is a little brighter,” he said, eyeing her red bikini top—a splash of color in the neutral room. He must have read her mind about the space.
He toed off his basketball shoes and ripped off his shirt, then lay down next to her. His hand smoothed over her belly, his index finger tracing her navel. Lynx noted the difference in their skin tones—his white to her soft brown. It never bothered her before, but after Zayid and his obsession with skin color, she wondered.
“Does it bother you? My skin?”
Mike’s hand stilled. “Say what?”
“With the hotel and everything, you’re going legit, making a name and all that. What will your parents say? Vegas royalty and a biracial chick?”
“Lynx, I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you. All of you. I don’t care if you’re red, blue, orange, or purple.” His words came in puffs against her cheek. Then he rolled on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbow. “You’re so gorgeous.”
Kissing her deeply, he let his hand wander up and down her side, dipping his thumb into her jeans until he stopped, bent, and shimmied them off with her Chucks. Making quick work of his jeans and boxers, they were skin to skin except for Lynx’s bikini top and thong.
Mike knelt over her, his knees on either side of hers, his hand running up and down the inside of her thighs. His finger swirled over her panties. When he found they were soaked, he moaned and dipped his finger beneath them, running over her bare mound. He rubbed her most sensitive spot, and she came alive.
Lynx closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel every sensation, each pulse and touch. Mike’s teeth moved her top out of the way and closed over one nipple, his hand never leaving her core until she came, reaching a height she thought she’d never see again.
Then he was sheathed and inside her, her thong and bikini top tossed to the floor. He started slow and gentle, then he went fast and hard, her leg hooked over his hip, until the only word they knew was each other’s names.
